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9:20 AM
You know you’re addicted to Korean dramas if…
Inquirer
Last updated 03:12pm (Mla time) 11/16/2006 1. YOU’VE tried, or you’re trying, to learn Korean in the hopes that one day you’ll watch your favorite dramas without aid of dubbing or subtitles. 2. You’ve watched your favorite dramas at least three times, and your favorite scenes -- the most heart-wrenching or the most kilig -- at least 10. 3. Someone asks you to recall a particular scene from your favorite drama and you recite it in full detail, including the actors’ lines and the episode number where such scene is found. 4. You convince your friends, family, classmates, officemates and just about anyone who hasn’t caught the Koreanovela bug yet to watch Korean dramas. And you do this with the kind of fervency that would make a door-to-door salesman proud. 5. Your cell phone’s ring tones feature the theme songs of "My Girl," "Full House," "Winter Sonata" (or the ring tones featured in such shows). 6. Your MP3 player contains mostly K-pop music or Korean ballads from your favorite drama’s soundtrack. 7. You create an online shrine dedicated to your favorite hallyu star or show. 8. You know what hallyu means. 9. Your Korean drama collection is big enough for you to open a small video rental shop. 10. You’re part of several fan clubs or a regular in online forums such as those found in soompi.com, d-addicts.com and tsinoy.com, all dedicated to your favorite K-artista or artistas. 11. You tirelessly write, petition, clamor and beg local television stations to bring your favorite Korean star to the Philippines. 12. You’re one of the earliest to line up at the airport when a K-star does come. Then you follow him or her to the hotel, where you’ve also booked yourself. If he or she has TV guestings or mall tours, you chalk up perfect attendance in all of them. 13. You save lunch money to be able to afford pricey collector’s items from www.Yesasia.com, such as DVDs or other K-drama paraphernalia. 14. When you do have lunch, you regularly make a beeline to Korean restaurants to eat kimbap, kimchi, and other such food fare that are featured in the dramas. You also search high and low for soju. 15. You save up money for your dream tour of Korea to see all the places featured in their dramas. 16. You watch your favorite drama all over again, this time dubbed in Filipino and shown in local channels, even if you’ve seen the entire English subtitled version. 17. You dream in Korean (plus points if the dream has English subtitles).
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9:14 AM
Spellbinding TV fare
Inquirer
Last updated 03:12pm (Mla time) 11/16/2006 THE HYPE over Korean dramas, which began airing alongside Chinovelas three years ago, is as strong as ever. Pinoy viewers can’t seem to get enough of such shows as "Jewel in the Palace," "Lovers in Paris" and "Endless Love." Just what is it about Korean drama that has Filipino audiences completely spellbound? Short and sweet One thing that characterizes a Korean drama is its relatively shorter length compared to its Filipino, American or Latin counterparts. While Pinoy teleseryes and American soaps usually have hundreds of episodes spanning years, sometimes even decades, Korean dramas usually follow a 16- to 20-hour-long episode format. Moreover, fewer characters are introduced, giving us a less complicated plot and a more realistic story line. "I think Pinoy audiences are fed up with soap operas that last for years. They want something they can invest in and at the same time would have a beginning and an ending. Korean dramas fit the bill since they are short enough for viewers to watch the entire run. And since they feature only a few main characters, the audience is able to become involved with them despite their shorter length," says Bambi Tan, a law student and an avid Koreanovela follower. The whole package Aside from its length, there is the plot itself. While some Korean dramas have one-of-a-kind plots, others have plot lines that border on cliché. These dramas feature Cinderella story lines or include plot devices that involve one or more leads contracting a terminal disease, losing his or her memory, or getting into an automobile accident. However, Pinoy drama fans do not seem to mind them, so long as these plot lines are backed up by solid acting, crisp dialogue, timeless music, and a good-looking cast. Breathtaking locations are a bonus. Korean producers have long recognized that good production values go a long way in terms of ratings, and they do not mind splurging on handsome-looking productions. The 2002 drama "Winter Sonata," for example. While the show featured a lot of plot devices (which included one of the leads developing amnesia, getting into a car accident, contracting a deadly disease and becoming disabled), it was nevertheless considered a classic not only by Filipino audiences but also by viewers across Asia. Its secret? It showcased sizzling onscreen chemistry between its lead actors, Bae Yong Jun and Choi Ji Woo, heartwarming melodies by renowned Korean composers such as New Age songster Yiruma, thought-provoking dialogue and, best of all, a timeless story of first love set against gorgeous Korean winter backdrops. The sites where "Winter Sonata" was filmed, such as Namiseom Island and the Chuncheon area, have become popular tourist spots. Enterprising travel agencies have organized tour packages showcasing these TV locations. Filipino values Another reason we Pinoys have taken a liking to Korean dramas is the values found in the shows reflect our own. "For instance, in romantic dramas, an entire series may contain only one or two kissing scenes and not much holding hands. Compared to Latin and American soaps that feature a lot of bed scenes, Pinoys find it easier to relate with Korean dramas," says Tan. Then she adds, "And besides, the rare hugs and kisses shared by couples in Korean dramas become much more meaningful and kilig." Family also plays an important role in Korean dramas, and characters always take into consideration their family members when making important decisions. Many Pinoys find that trait very familiar. Korean wave The Korean drama hype is not an exclusively Filipino phenomenon. In fact, by the time local networks began broadcasting Korean soaps in 2003, following the success of another East Asian drama, "Meteor Garden," many Southeast and East Asian countries, such as Taiwan, Singapore and Thailand, had already done the same two or three years earlier. Hawaii also began showing Korean dramas as early as 1989 through its KBFD network. Korean dramas have reached across the globe to countries such as Egypt and Mexico, and many predict their popularity will reach more places outside Asia in the years to come. The popularity of Korean dramas have also sparked worldwide interest in all things Korean, such as food, films and music. Many call this the Korean or "Hallyu" wave. In countries such as Vietnam and Singapore, it has become a trend for K-drama fans who wish to understand their favorite shows in the original language to take up Hanggul or Korean language lessons. Kimchi, kimbap, soju and other Korean food fare have never been more popular in Japan as they are now. Meanwhile, K-pop or Korean pop music is booming as well. In fact singer/actor Jung Ji-Hoon, better known as Rain, star of the popular 2004 miniseries "Full House" and one of the names usually associated with K-pop, sold out New York’s Madison Square Garden twice in his concert there last February. He is expected to hold a world tour next year. Movies that feature Korean drama idols are being exported at a hefty price tag because they are expected to rake in huge box-office returns. The 2005 movie "April Snow" starring actor Bae Yong Jun (whose star factor among Japanese middle-aged women rivaled that of the F4 during the "Meteor Garden hype" in the country), shown in various Asian countries including the Philippines, reportedly earned Y2.72 billion in Japan alone. Until when will the spell cast by Korean dramas last? Naysayers give it a couple more years. Tan disagrees. "Pinoys know a good storyteller when they come across one. As long as Korean dramas have beautiful stories to tell, they will always have an audience among Filipinos."
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11:46 AM
Lol, found this online. As a favor to a friend sophomore year, i agreed to write this piece for the school paper. Reading it again, i just have to say-- gosh it's so ditzy, hee hee.
Saying hello
They say that to lead a healthy life, especially as a college student, one must strike a balance between studying and socializing. Lucky for us because we get to have the best of both worlds. We all know that Ateneo is a fine academic institution, but are we aware that it is just as great as a social academy?
Ateneo is wonderful in a sense that it is big enough to give everyone space but small enough to be a community. Even though we would probably never get to see every student in school, our four or five years of stay on campus give us ample opportunity to meet as many people as we can remember.
Classes, orgs, parties and various activities introduce us to all types of Atenistas—from the pious to the superjock, to the rich brat to the honor student. But before we meet and deal with such people, we first have to start with the basics: saying hello.
Saying hello is an art, as well as a basic act for a social person. It is especially useful in college. To thrive in a school as populous as the Ateneo, socializing isn’t so much a luxury as it is a necessity. Greetings, usually accompanied by gestures such as a smile, wink, high-five or beso-beso, are tried-and-tested mechanisms used to start any conversation, introduce oneself, break the ice or acknowledge just about everyone we know. How and how often one greets another could spell the difference between a loner and Mr. Popularity. But sometimes the need to greet can become burdensome. Here are a few of those instances:
Scenario one: On newly made acquaintances—to greet or not to greet. While strolling along EDSA walk, you notice a classmate, whom you’ve spoken to once, walking toward your direction. This causes a mild attack of apprehension as you mentally debate whether or not to greet her. Rejection is the last thing you desire, so you decide to greet her only if she makes the first, even the slightest, move.
Unknown to you, your classmate is undergoing the same dilemma. As both of you approach closer, you and your classmate glare at each other for a split-second, each searching the other for a glint of acknowledgment. Finding none, both of you hastily look away. The next time your paths cross, both of you turn away and deliberately avoid each other like plagues. What could’ve been a nice relationship is cast away, all because of a minor incident of not saying hello.
The thread that connects two newly met acquaintances is a fine one. Failure to greet each other once, and you may never do so again. The fear of not being acknowledged is what makes people think twice when saying hello to an acquaintance. To solve this dilemma, a friend of mine applied the “eyebrows technique.” When greeting acquaintances, she meets their eyes and raises her eyebrows in acknowledgment. If the other person failed to respond, no problem, she just looks away with eyebrows still raised and pretend that she hasn’t seen anyone. Funny technique, but she swears that it works.
Scenario two: I-don’t-know-you-but-you-know-me. He just greeted you enthusiastically by name, while all you manage is a weak hello as you rummage your brain trying to recall when you’ve met him—if you’ve met him at all. In other words, he thinks you’re somewhat acquainted but you swear you’ve never seen him in your life. Before your already inflated ego gets any bigger, the reason why you can’t quite recall him is probably just because of poor memory (shame on you). Let me narrate an incident to illustrate the other instance. I had a newly-met acquaintance that I rarely see but who gives me a warm hello every time I do so. One time I saw him ambling along and decided to return his animated greetings. I smiled warmly and waved at him. Yet all he did was stare at me as if I had something growing on my face. Weird, I thought. Still, I continued greeting him whenever I see him, and he gradually began to return my hello’s, and sometimes even with an accompanying dimpled smile.
Then one day, the guy I thought I’ve been greeting all those times came up to me and said hi. I realized right then that I’ve been greeting the wrong person! In hindsight, what I’ve done seemed like a stupid mistake because although the two guys look alike, they are definitely not identical. I still see my friend’s look-alike around, although I don’t greet him anymore and instinctively turn away in embarrassment.
Scenario three: The myopic hello. On instances when you’re not sure if you should say hello to the person saying hi to you, just wave back—you have nothing to lose. Or do you? Before you lift your arm in response, make sure first that you are the recipient of the other person’s greetings.
A friend of mine saw that the person coming toward her was waving, so she waved back in response. Although she wasn’t sure if she knew the other person, she was ready to call out a greeting when suddenly, a person from behind her called out first. That was when she realized whom the person in front of her was waving at. In order not to lose face, my friend pretended to be waving at someone else. Nevertheless, the next time around she was more careful when greeting someone.
These are only some of the instances where you are not sure what to do when faced with such a dilemma. I’m sure each of us has an embarrassing story to tell. As a last piece of advice though, when in doubt, just say hello. A greeting is always a refreshing sight, and very few can resist a warm smile. If all these don’t evoke a respond from the other party, you can always look away and pretend to smile at no one in particular. People will think you’re just happy.
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8:47 AM
An article about Raymund Narag, Rosanne's friend, published today
Finding Purpose in Jail
IN 1995, 21-year-old Raymund Narag had a promising future ahead of him. He was about to graduate cum laude from the University of the Philippines and was a leader in various college activities and organizations. He was set on becoming a lawyer and had plans to enter the UP College of Law. He had a family who was proud of him, friends who cherished him and a girlfriend whom he loved very much.
Everyone thought he was bound for success. However things changed when, just three days before college graduation, he was served a warrant of arrest for crimes he did not do. He allegedly took part in a rumble caused by his fraternity, Scintilla Juris, which resulted in the death of UP student Dennis Venturina, as well as the frustrated and attempted murder of others.
It was one of Raymund's bleakest moments. "Instead of a diploma, I showed my parents the papers taking me away from their custody and placing me under detention. Instead of marching to the stage hearing the applause of friends and relatives, I dragged my feet to jail. My parents figuratively died," he says.
Long immersion
After receiving the warrant, Raymund and his co-accused -- 11 others who were members of his fraternity -- voluntarily surrendered themselves to police authorities. They were placed in the Quezon City Jail while their case was pending.
Raymund was taken aback at the conditions of life in jail. "It took me time to adjust. I had to sleep in a cell that could ideally accommodate 10 inmates but actually contained 50. We had to look for our own food, clothing and beddings because the jail management couldn't sufficiently provide for it," he recalls.
During this time, Raymund convinced himself that he was simply undergoing a long immersion process. "I thought then that our detention was just a part of a long and under-budgeted immersion program, the way I used to immerse in squatters' communities. It was but an education process so that I would be exposed to the ills of society."
Reality check
However, Raymund had a cold dose of reality when the decision for bail petition came out, nine months after he and his co-accused were put to detention. His heart sank when he learned the results.
"Nine of my brods were granted bail but two of us were denied," he says. He was denied bail because a witness identified him as one of those who "whacked the victim [who was] lying on the ground."
Raymund repeated his pleas of innocence, to no avail. When his motion for reconsideration was denied, Raymund decided to face his situation squarely and realized he would probably be staying in jail for a long time.
"I realized that the mess I was in was no longer an immersion. It was destroying my life, and I could not simply rot [in jail]. I then told myself that I had to be productive, and that the idiocy of my situation would not turn me into a lowlife," he says. The first thing Raymund did to improve his situation was to apply for an outstanding pass from the court to be able to enroll in the UP Open University program. The court later allowed Raymund to go to school once a month, taking up a course in New Enterprise Planning.
In turn, Raymund organized and taught in a functional literacy class in jail, teaching his fellow inmates what he had just learned from his course in the Open University program, as well as basic subjects such as English and Math.
His teaching stint began Raymund's transformed outlook on jail life, as he started to regard his fellow inmates "not as individuals to be condemned but as souls waiting to be touched with reformation."
Becoming 'mini-city mayor'
It didn't take long for Raymund to find a "career" in jail. Or rather, his "career" found him.
"Eventually, my fellow inmates recognized my leadership potential and elected me as secretary of the inmate organization," he shares. As secretary, Raymund was able to come up with projects to better the lives of the inmates.
"We organized the 'No Bail Band,' which produced "Hiram na Buhay," an anti-death penalty song that became a hit during the Leo Echagaray execution. We also came up with a cultural committee that held weekly singing, dancing and drama contests," he says.
Raymund also tied up with the Ugnayan ng Pahinungod, a volunteer arm of the University of the Philippines, to conduct seminars on the rights of the accused, the different stages of criminal procedure and different modes of release, etc. They also trained inmate paralegal volunteers.
His dedication to improving the lives of his fellow inmates earned Raymund much-deserved respect and reverence from everyone. The inmates found a leader in Raymund, and eventually everyone began calling him Kuya Raymund-young or old, inmate or guard alike.
Not surprisingly, he was elected mini-city mayor, the top position in the inmates' organization, during his fourth year in jail. In this position, Raymund was able to institute more reforms in jail.
"I endeavored to do away with human rights abuses that were considered standard practice in the jail, like paddling the feet of erring inmates. I also advocated removing the practice of collecting exorbitant 'commitment' fees from new inmates. The commitment fees are like tuition, which were originally used for cell upkeep. However, some inmates and jail officers abused this mechanism and it placed further strains on the conditions of the inmates," he says.
Raymund also spearheaded raising funds the purchase of computers and the construction of a grotto, "which symbolized our commitment to peace," he explains.
Realizing the power of giving recognition to the capabilities of each inmate, Raymund empowered them by allowing every inmate to feel directly involved to the organization. He allowed each "pangkat" or group to resolve its own conflicts. The result was astounding: During his term as mini-city mayor, no major jail disturbance such as riots or escapes occurred.
The changes Raymund implemented at the QC Jail caught the attention of the media. It cited such programs as the graduation of those who took part in the literacy program, the Miss Quezon City Jail (which was a fundraiser), and various other cultural activities.
Free at last
After spending almost seven years in jail, the courts acquitted Raymund and released him from detention in 2002. At present, Raymund, 30, is married and will soon be a father. He is wrapping up his master's degree at the National College of Public Administration and has just finished writing a book about the penal conditions of the Quezon City jail, which he hopes will reach policymakers.
Aside from advocating for penal and criminal justice, he is also campaigning for non-violence in campus among the fraternities.
"I do not want any frat man, or any student for that matter, to suffer the same fate I have suffered. I am doing this on behalf of all the parents who fear that their sons might have a future destroyed. I hope that the fraternity system will find its relevance in the educational system," he says.
Although he found his stay in jail difficult, Raymund has no bitterness or regrets.
"I am thankful I had this experience, which made me more humble," he says. "I believe everyone has a mission in life. Mine was revealed through a long and torturous road. But when one responds to this mission, everything will have a meaning. And then one will truly see the beauty of life."
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9:00 PM
Out of the classroom, into the community
"WHAT will you do after graduation?" is perhaps the most common question posed to college seniors.
Although replies usually reveal plans of entering the workforce, setting up businesses or going into further studies, you may just hear one or two who are bent on making a difference by becoming NGOs, priests, teachers or entering other service-oriented fields.
Sounds amazing, but is it worth it? Given today's hard times, what motivates these young people on planning to pursue a line of work that is usually difficult, demanding and offers little pay?
2bU! interviews some graduating seniors about their plans and insights regarding entering service-oriented vocations.
For love of country
"I kept thinking about what my ethics teacher, Father Que, told our class last semester -- our country needs us. I thought that maybe this is the first step for me, my way of helping our country somehow," says Pamela Joy "PJ" Mariano on what inspired her to join the Jesuit Volunteer
Philippines (JVP).
PJ, a graduating Philosophy senior, was overjoyed when she was recently accepted, along with 33 others, to this year's batch of JVP.
Her friends had mixed reactions about her plans, though. "Not everyone is comfortable with the idea because it's such a different path to take from college. I got jokes about being a candidate for sainthood, but I guess I have my selfish reasons for joining too," PJ shares.
A socio-pastoral arm of the Jesuits, the JVP sends volunteers to different parts of the country to take on the roles of teachers, campus ministers, parish workers and community organizers for a year, with an option to extend to two years.
A volunteer can be assigned to do a variety of tasks roles that will assist needy local communities-from implementing literacy programs in indigenous communities in Zambales to caring for cancer-stricken kids in Cagayan de Oro.
"I guess what all these varied jobs have in common is that they all contribute, in one way or another, to the promotion and betterment of the lives of the poor and the oppressed," says PJ.
Although PJ is excited about her JVP year, she also feels anxious about it. "I'm scared, no, terrified, at the prospect of beginning my term as a volunteer. I'm plagued by doubts: Will I be accepted by the community? Can I handle homesickness and loneliness? Am I strong enough, physically, emotionally and spiritually?"
She's also gearing herself up for a life outside her comfort zone. "The first three months that we spend in the area, we're not allowed to call home or write letters, because we might spend more time pining for home than getting settled and starting to work. We're also encouraged not to
receive money from our parents. We have to try and live a life that is much simpler than we're used to," she says.
But in spite of her worries, a bigger part of her is looking forward to being able to help her fellow Filipinos. "Call me idealistic, but I feel really lucky to have the opportunity to trigger change. A lot of Filipinos need to rediscover hope, that there's hope for our country, and that there are people who care."
For more information about the JVP, visit www.jvpfi.org.
For love of God
At age 12, Celerino "Rino" Reyes knew he wanted to be a priest. After grade school, he decided to enter the San Jacinto Minor Seminary in Tuguegarao, inspired by his father who was once a seminarian.
His decision surprised his friends. "My friends and classmates were shocked to hear that their notorious grade school bully was aspiring for the priesthood," Rino chuckles. "Well, I guess they eventually understood that with God nothing is impossible -- I have changed for the better."
And change he did. Now a graduating pre-divinity student in the Ateneo de Manila University, Rino's years of discernment and living as a seminarian has convinced him that his aspirations to become a priest are genuine. He says, "I want to be a priest because I feel a deep desire to be of service to God and His people."
But he confesses that he sometimes feels tempted to abandon his goal. "When issues -- psychological, emotional, academic, vocational -- come up and I find myself unable to handle them, I feel like giving up. Fortunately, I feel that I am not alone in bearing these setbacks. Oftentimes I transcend these problems by praying, spending some time in quiet solitude, and talking to people who can understand," he says.
Although his desire to become a priest is firm, he expressed some worries about entering priesthood. "Frankly speaking, with all the issues concerning the church today, all the scandals that pop up from time to time, I feel scared, scared that I might not be able to lead that life which is required of every aspirant to the priesthood-a life of prayer, sanctity, chastity and moral uprightness," he confesses.
After graduation, don't be surprised to see Rino joining other fresh graduates in search of work. "The seminary encourages us to go out for a while to experience the world. We are given one to three years of regency where we get to choose what work we want to be into... to be exposed
to a life without the seminary structures and we literally live on our own without the security provided by the seminary," he explains.
He is prepared to leave the San Jose Seminary in Ateneo, where he has stayed for four years now, once he finds a job. "I have applied to various jobs in the corporate world, government and foreign services. This period of regency is a test for me to see if I'm really called for priesthood."
Then he adds, "While it is true that I do want to be a priest, I remain open to the voice of God, open to where he may lead me. For in the end, what matters most is not my plans or desires but His plan for me, and that is where I want to be."
For love of people
Luisa Peralta, a Development major at the University of Asia and the Pacific, is planning to go back to high school-as a teacher, that is.
"It's always been my dream to teach in Woodrose, where I studied in high school... I was inspired by my teacher who said you should always give something back to that which you hold dearly and which contributed something to who you are right now," says Luisa.
Luisa is not daunted by the tremendous demands of becoming a teacher, such as putting in long hours and earning relatively low pay.
"I have always believed that teaching is a noble job. Even though it has a lot of demands, I know the rewards in teaching-such as molding young minds and perhaps influencing future movers and shakers -- makes it worth it," she says.
Similarly, Marcelle Fabie is set on becoming a teacher, but for quite different reasons.
The graduating Ateneo Communications major has recently decided there is nothing else in the world he'd rather do after college than to teach Philosophy, his favorite subject.
His love affair with the subject began during his junior year. "I've always been the kind of person who wants to look into the deeper meaning of things. I think Philosophy heightened this inquisitiveness I have, and after just one semester of it, I was hooked," he says.
He hopes to teach the subject soon in the Ateneo, where undergraduates are required at least 12 units of Philosophy subjects. He has recently taken the entrance exams for Masters in Philosophy in the Ateneo to aid him in his goal.
Marcelle looks forward to the day he can share his passion with others. "It's undeniable that Philosophy has influenced me greatly, and this influence has led me to better things... teaching Philosophy is my way of rendering this service to others, as this is simply the field that makes me grow as a human being," he says.
More than just introducing students to Philosophy, he hopes to make a difference in other's lives through teaching it.
He says, "Maybe I can't lead students to enlightenment in a mere semester, but I know that through teaching them, I'm helping them on the way there. That first step, I believe, is every bit as important as the journey itself, and is every bit important as the last step."
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7:14 AM
Just another story
Once upon a time, there was a 15 year-old-girl who was deeply infatuated with a 21-year-old guy. They met one summer in a play, where the girl was one of the lead actors and the guy, the assistant director. Weeks before the show opened, the actor playing opposite the girl backed out and the guy volunteered to take his place. However, the director replaced the guy with another actor at the last minute. The girl was disappointed, to say the least
The guy had always been the girl's fantasy—an unattainable one at that. The guy was what girls would call a “catch”— he was charismatic, charming and he came from a de buena family—so it was not surprising that girls swooned at his presence. Luckily, the guy loved girls almost as much as they loved him.
Unluckily, the girl witnessed the guy switch from one girlfriend to the next— this week it was a reed-thin model, the next it was someone he met at a bar— just as if he were changing shirts.
The guy also somewhat made the girl feel she meant nothing to him but a kid sister, as if careful not to give her even a glimmer of hope. One time, the girl thought she overheard him say he would never go out with kids. Perhaps the guy intended those words to reach the girl’s ears, sensing her crush on him. Perhaps the girl was just paranoid.
But when the guy was not playing the tough I'm-older-than-thou act, he was sweet to her. He saw to it that the girl was taken care of, and he provided her the most stimulating of conversations. At those times, she prayed he didn't see her as the kid. She thought he was very cute too.
She considered the times hanging out with him as one of her best. Occasionally they'd eat out (with the other theater people, of course), go to bars, or stay at the girl’s house until the wee hours of the morning, talking, goofing around, and filming silly commercials together— commercials directed by the guy and acted out by the girl and some of their friends. One time, after filming at the girl’s place, they decided to take a dip at the pool at 3 a.m. The others didn’t care for swimming, so it was just the two of them—the girl and the guy— chatting the night away. They stayed submerged in water till dawn. In a way, the girl was satisfied with just that. But of course, a kiss wouldn't hurt.
When summer—and their play—ended, their days together came to an end as well. They rarely saw each other after that, which saddened the girl a lot. But what did she expect? A few months later, the girl threw a party at her place, as an excuse to see him. And come he did, totting his new girlfriend along. The girl never threw a party for his expense again.
Time came when the girl no longer clung to her fantasy, although she never forgot the guy. She knew she had to be realistic, so she moved on to boys her age. From time to time, the girl would bump into the guy—at the mall, at a club, at a party thrown by a common friend. When that happened, she would act cool, calm and collected, as if the sight of him didn't affect her at all. She could be a very good actress when she wanted to.
Two years later they met again. This time during the guy's grandma's funeral. The girl was 18 now, and the guy 24. The girl was happy to see him, and quite surprised that the sight of him didn't set out butterflies in her stomach anymore. Time erases a lot of things—or does it really?
The girl noticed something different about the way guy acted towards her that night, but she couldn't really put a finger on it. Before the girl left, the guy asked for her number. They were in contact regularly after that.
The guy would ask the girl almost everyday how she was doing. They'd joke about things, exchange stories and talk about old times again. Guy would sometimes flatter her using sugary words, and she would ride on with it, assuming nothing. One day, the guy surprised her with a Chinese quote. He would sometimes refer to the girl as Chinese because she resembles one, but since she wasn’t, she had one of her Chinese friends translate the quote.
"It means 'I love you,'" explained the girl's friend. To say the girl was startled was an understatement. But it did explain the way he was acting the past few weeks. He couldn't be serious, the girl thought. It was so sudden, so soon. It seemed that she got what she had always wanted, what she had always craved for. But why did she feel that familiar sinking sensation at the pit of her stomach? She recalled the guy’s long line of girlfriends during their theater days. That was not what she wanted to end up being— just one of those girls he’d get and discard quickly.
She couldn't bring to ask him about it. But she didn't have to because the next night he told her again, this time in plain English. She didn’t say anything. They never talked about it again.
The guy suddenly stopped contacting her. In a way, the girl was relieved. The guy was a past chapter in her book, as far as she was concerned. But deep down, she knew she still liked him. But she told herself it was better that way. She wanted none of the pain, none of the complications that went with liking him.
Soon, the girl heard the guy had a new girlfriend. She didn't feel a thing this time--no stinging, no churning of the stomach. He would contact her from time to time to say "What's up?" to which she would obligingly reply "I'm fine. You?”
Then a year later, after months without contact, the girl received a call from the guy.
Guy: You doing anything later?
Girl: I'm doing stuff for work. Why?
Guy: I want to go out. But not alone...
She gave it a long thought. She knew she wanted him, wanted him still. But what he could give her was not enough. She wanted what her fantasy promised her—the whole deal. She wanted him for keeps. But she knew he couldn’t give her that because he still hasn’t changed—he was the same person she knew at 15. She knew what she had to do, although she wished she could be weak and not say…
Girl: Sorry I can't. Still have a lot to do. I have a deadline soon. Raincheck?
Guy: Sure.
Both girl and guy knew there was no raincheck. The guy got the hint. Still they played along, talked a bit about their lives and reminisced about old times again, both aware that it may be their last time to do so.
They haven’t spoken since.
*******
Once upon a time, there was a 15 year-old-girl who was deeply infatuated with a 21-year-old guy. They met in theater, where the girl played as one of the lead actors and the guy, the assistant director. The guy had always been the girl's fantasy--an unattainable one at that. And she was right. Because they were never together, and it seems never will be. At 20, the girl moved on. It took her a long time, didn’t it?
Still, sometimes, the girl would find herself, like now, remembering those summer nights she spent with him four years ago: Their stimulating conversations, their swim at 3 a.m. and, most especially, their acting together. He could be a very good actor when he wanted to. Just like her.
Exactly like her.
***********
Conversion in Palawan
ALTHOUGH Palawan is known for its beaches and crystal-clear waters rich in marine resources, not being keen on water sports and activities, I was not excited to be going there.
But everything changed when I set foot on the province. One look at the sparkling blue-green waters and I knew I couldn't spend my time just staring at it.
Palawan's waters felt like nothing else. Since it was the dry season, the weather was perfect for sunbathing and the lukewarm water delightful and soothing to the skin. Swimming alongside colorful fishes in the translucent waters was an added treat.
But the best part was the place's serenity. At Dos Palmas, where we stayed, the beach was secluded and was almost like our private enclave.
Time seemed to pass quickly while in the water, and I was amazed at how soon night fell.
Snorkeling mishap
I would have been more than happy to just wade in shallow waters, but the Dos Palmas people who organized the trip, had other plans for us.
Leeds Trompeta, sales manager of Dos Palmas, laughingly dismissed my reservations about snorkeling. "Don't worry, it's very easy. Even kids can do it," Trompeta said.
Snorkeling for the first time was a strange and awkward experience. I was too preoccupied with breathing at first to fully appreciate the rich marine life below. But soon, I forgot about the breathing business and focused my attention on the multihued soft corals and other aquatic
species underneath. It was spectacular!
But just when everything seemed okay, I absentmindedly inhaled air through my nose, forgetting that I should breathe through the snorkel. My mask wasn't tight enough so salty water got through my nose, gagging me.
On reflex, I raised my head to get some air and struggled to remove the mask and mouthpiece.
"Blow! Blow!" the snorkeling instructor commanded, meaning I should blow water off my air passage instead of removing my mask and snorkel. His instructions worked, but snorkeling suddenly ceased being leisurely and became hard work.
Scuba Diving 101
Next on the agenda was introduction to diving. If I was worried about snorkeling, I was terrified of diving! The choking I experienced when snorkeling was still on my mind.
My paranoid mind came up with possible underwater disasters: drowning, bursting my lungs by rushing too fast to the surface or even getting chewed to pieces by gigantic man-eating sea creatures. But though terrified, I was also drawn to the idea of being able to breathe underwater,
feeling weightless and swimming among the fishes. In the end, curiosity won over fear.
After a 15-minute orientation, we headed for Helen's Garden, a diving spot in Honda Bay perfect for beginners. My heart was pounding as I strapped on the buoyancy control device, a belt that can be inflated or deflated to control buoyancy, diving mask and the heavy compressed
air tank.
"Don't worry. You won't feel its weight once you're in the water," the dive master said. As I placed the regulator in my mouth, he also reminded me to, "Breathe in and out slowly. Don't hyperventilate."
After a few minutes of practice on the surface, the dive master and I started our descent to 10 then 20 feet below.
The feeling of sinking was both exhilarating and nerve-racking.
Although it felt invigorating to be underwater without holding my breath, I couldn't help but be conscious of my breathing. Equalizing the pressure in my ear also proved to be tricky.
But soon, my fear was replaced by wonder. My breathing became relaxed and, for the first time, I saw how beautiful it was down there! Various sea creatures that I used to see only on television and magazines, swam before my amazed eyes.
My dive master signaled for me to kneel on the ocean floor and touch the soft corals and giant clams. I tried to brush my fingers against the tropical fishes, which came in all colors of the rainbow, but they were too fast for me.
By the time the dive was over, I was already thinking about being back among the fish and corals again.
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9:18 AM
I'm amazed how people get together, and even marry, as a result of chatting. To hit it closer to home, some of these people are my friends.
The essay below is inspired by my friends who have found their significant other via the internet.
Cyber romance can be just as true or false as the low-tech version
February 13, 2003
Inquirer News Service
I FIRST heard of a cyber-relationship when my friend Diane (not her real name) had one five years ago. She met her cyber-boyfriend, a 20-year-old Canadian named Jeremy, at one of the mIRC chatrooms she frequented. He was charming, interesting and so much older than most of the guys she knew (she was just 14 then). She swore it was true love.
For months she stayed up late, sometimes until dawn, chatting online and e-mailing him on a regular basis. She swooned over his movie-star looks (he sent a picture), captivated by his husky Canadian drawl (they swapped phone numbers and he called her once) and, all in all, flattered by the attention he showered her.
When I asked her if she wanted to join me on a trip to Vancouver, Canada to spend summer with my aunt, she practically skipped on her way to ask her parents' permission. Diane was ecstatic when they let her join the Canada trip.
But things soured for Diane in Canada. Whenever she called Jeremy, which was pretty often, he was never home. All of a sudden he stopped sending e-mail. He also disappeared from the chatrooms. Though we were na‹ve teenagers then, we got the message: Jeremy wasn't serious about Diane. My poor friend came home brokenhearted but wiser, at least about cyber-relationships.
In love with an idea
In a cyber relationship, a thin line separates being truly in love with another person and being in love with just the idea of him or her. Despite stories of couples falling in love before setting eyes on each other, I believe that technology should only be used as a tool for meeting people. Cyber relationships that rely solely on technology rarely work because they lack one thing: the human touch. No matter how many love quotes you send or how hot your conversations on the phone are, a cyber romance can never be without warm embraces or sweet kisses.
Still, cyber relationships flourish. What makes virtual friendships so enticing is that it is so easy to reveal your true self without fear of being judged or getting a biased hearing. Sadly, the opposite is also true. It's a dangerous world out there, and many people are not who they claim to be.
When one is being honest while the other is not, problems will surely arise especially when love is involved.
Jack, 19, met Paola in a chatroom. He got her cell phone number and they became constant textmates. Through the text messages and their chats, they professed their love for each other. Jack found it strange, though, that Paola would not talk to him on the phone. The relationship continued this way for months until Jack suggested a meeting. When Paola didn't show up, Jack was naturally hurt. But the reason for Paola's no-show proved to be even more mind-blowing: Paola was actually Paolo. Jack finally understood why "she" didn't want to talk to him. The lesson: Don't give your heart to someone who won't talk to you on the phone .
Another problem in cyber relationship is when a person starts imagining how his or her cyber friend will look. A cyber couple can happily exchange endless phone calls, text messages and e-mail for months. But one face-to-face meeting can instantly dispel the rosy haze, both feeling deceived because reality does not even come close to what the imagination has conjured. The solution: exchange pictures from the very start of a virtual relationship.
Happy endings
But not all cyber relationships end on a sour note. There have been wonderful stories about people finding love in cyberspace and living happily ever after.
Joy and Norman met in the chatrooms in 1998 and had a long courtship. It took months before they talked on the phone and several more weeks before they finally met in Joy's house in Quezon City.
Norman had two surprises for Joy on that first meeting. First, he told her he liked her and, second, he brought a huge snowman stuffed toy, which she was to find out cost P3,000. But it still was an uncomfortable meeting. They barely talked to each other. The next day, Joy was surprised when Norman paged her nonstop. His incessant paging, which went on for weeks, irritated Joy. When the paging eased, she began to miss him. Then it hit her: she liked the guy.
It took another year before Norman would ask Joy to be his girlfriend. They have been together for three years since and Joy always recalls that first encounter with a grin.
One time, she asked him teasingly, "What did you think of me when we first met?" Norman finally confessed what was on his mind that fateful day long ago. "The moment I saw you... I knew it was you."
It was probably just sheer luck that brought them together in the chatrooms but Joy and Norman probably believe the chance encounter was written in the stars.
Indeed, finding true love is possible online but don't go chatting just to look for it. Finding someone special in the chat rooms is not much different from meeting him or her anyplace else. After all, as the saying goes, you can find love in the most unexpected places-including cyberspace.
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9:10 AM
This essay is a result of a semester in my European Cinema class. I realized soon after how much I have missed before by dismissing all Euro films as artsy-fartsy.
Euro films' simplicity and subtlety lost on Filipinos
October 09, 2002
Inquirer News Service
AT THE FIRST meeting of my European Cinema class in Ateneo de Manila University, our teacher, Father Nick, asked us to name five European movie stars, who didn't make it big in Hollywood. The class of about 70 students couldn't even name three.
My class' lack of knowledge about European movie actors reflects just how foreign European cinema is to us Filipinos. Why is it not very well appreciated? Perhaps many find European cinema too tedious to watch with its slow-pacing, discreet background music and the use of subtitles. Plus, people have no patience for films with long periods of silence and a lot of dialogue.
What we want is action. We want million-dollar movies with plenty of gimmicks, garish stunts and a sex scene or two. We want flicks like "Titanic," "Lord of the Rings" and "The Godfather." We don't want subtlety; we want the plot served straight up.
European cinema and Hollywood movies are like apples and oranges. While American productions are escapist, the European ones are realistic. European movie stars rarely look like Brad Pitt and Catherine Zeta-Jones to titillate the viewers; continental actors look like regular people (unless the story calls for an attractive person) to keep audiences focused on the storyline rather than the cast.
There is nothing wrong with Hollywood movies but you have to experience European cinema at least once. Sit through an entire film and watch as its beauty unfolds. The European cinema's charm is in its sheer simplicity. Witness how the subtleness transforms the film into a powerful medium evoking realizations, feelings and emotions that Hollywood productions rarely achieve.
European movies also tend to linger in the audience's memory long after the film has ended.
Here are three films that capture some of the best qualities of European cinema.
'Cinema Paradiso' (1988)
This is a beautiful and heart-rending film about a unique friendship. Much of this Italian film, directed by Guiseppe Tornatore, is told through flashbacks. In the beginning, we see a middle-aged famous film director, Salvatore, receiving news that an old friend named Alfredo had died. Salvatore begins to reminisce about his childhood and his thoughts take him back to Giancaldo, a small village in Sicily, a few years before the coming of television.
The village had only one movie theater called Cinema Paradiso, where the villagers went for entertainment. We then meet the film's two protagonists: old Alfredo (Philippe Noiret), who operates the projection booth, and a fatherless young boy, Salvatore or Toto (Salvatore Cascio), who is drawn to the booth and makes it his home away from home. With their shared love for films, the two form a special bond.
The friendship is broken with the arrival of Elena, Toto's love interest in his late teens. Alfredo tells Toto to leave Giancaldo and forget Elena, because she has forgotten him. Toto follows Alfredo's advice. Years later he learns that Alfredo "betrayed" him by making him believe that Elena did not love him. But was it really a betrayal, or was it an act of love? The audience is left to decide.
'Au Revoir, Les Enfants' (1991)
There is something eerily haunting about stories on the Holocaust. The horrors the Jews went through reverberate in your mind long after you hear the stories. "Au Revoir, Les Enfants (Goodbye, Children)" is no exception.
This film takes us to World War II. The year is 1944 and the setting is a French Catholic boarding school where several Jews are hiding from the merciless Nazis. Among them is young Jean Bonnet. With a new name and identity, Bonnet pretends to be a new student. At the boarding school, he meets and befriends classmate Julien Quentin, who soon learns of Bonnet's secret. But Quentin does not really understand the significance of being a Jew in a country run by Nazis until the Nazis come to the school looking for Jews. His quick, unthinking glance in Bonnet's direction leads to his friend's discovery and, later on, demise. Young Quentin finally understands the shocking reality of racism and the cruelty of war.
"Au Revoir, Les Enfants" is a bitter tale, but one that must be told if only to remind us constantly in order to avoid a repeat of the tragedy.
'Amelie' (2002)
This French film, which was shown here recently, is a lighthearted drama/comedy starring Audrey Tautou in the title role. She portrays Amelie with a brilliant mix of coyness, vigor and mischief. The film opens by showing Amelie's sad and lonely childhood, no thanks to her bizarre and unaffectionate parents.
As a result, she grows up to be an eccentric, unable to relate to people and with no real purpose in life. One day she discovers a rusty old tin box hidden in her house. She decides to return the box to its original owner, starting in the process an adventure that would change her life and the lives of the people around her, although for the better.
What's fascinating is how Amelie helps these people in the most creative and extraordinary ways. For instance, she "kidnaps" her father's garden gnome and later sends him anonymous postcards with photographs of the gnome taken in the world's well-known tourist spots just to entice the old man to travel.
The diversity of characters surrounding Amelie adds spice to the movie: there's Dufayel, Amelie's neighbor, who paints a copy of the same Renoir painting year after year; Amelie's boss who is a former trapeze artist; and there's Nico Quincampoix, Amelie's love interest, who works at a porn shop and collects people's discarded snapshots in photo booths.
Judging from how long it was shown in movie theaters, "Amelie" seemed to have done quite well in introducing the Pinoy audience to the beauty of European cinema.
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9:05 AM
Something I wrote for class... I don't think my prof appreciated the humor in this one, which explains my less-than-satisfactory grade.
Today's REAL Horoscope
Aries: You are deep and personal in your thoughts, the quiet type. In fact, you don’t speak at all because you think you are too good to speak to others. You are conceited and obnoxious, but luckily nobody knows this because you don’t utter a word. People like you a lot and believe you are the perfect listener, one who does not past judgment on them. They are wrong though, and inwardly you giggle and make fun of them. Your lucky colors are aquamarine blue and fuchsia pink.
Taurus: Don’t bother starting your diet today because you are doomed to be an Ike Lozada/ Dabiana look-alike for ever. Remember to count ten before getting mad. But don’t get mad, get even. Your lucky numbers are 1, 2, 3…10.
Gemini: Stop watching Betty la Fea and get out of that couch NOW, you lazy worm. Today is the day you will finally meet Mr./Ms. Right. Unfortunately, he/she will make a run the minute he/she catches a whiff of you. Must be your deodorant—or lack of it. Your lucky color is blue, as in Secret deodorant blue.
Cancer: You have the IQ of a dinosaur and will never amount to anything. Your mother hates you and your father thinks you are a loser. Your only friend is a mongoloid psychopath, who is unfortunately locked up right now. Even blind people think you’re ugly. You don’t have a lucky number or color.
Leo: You are the forgiving type and you don't bear grudges. Sadly, nobody gives a damn. Nobody cares about you, or even talks to you. You are afraid that nobody will go to your funeral, and you are probably right. Your best friend is your Coleman, which, given the chance to talk, will tell you it loathes you. Your lucky number is 0 and .01
Virgo: You're an unscrupulous animal who would sell relative's limbs to buy a cell phone. Stop whining about not having a significant other, and start doing something about that halitosis. I don’t want to tell you this, but you don’t really see dead people. There, now you’re not special anymore. Your lucky numbers are 66666 and 99999.
Libra: Remember now, the early bird gets the worm. So don’t be an early worm. You are a nice person, so nice that everyone just walks all over you. You fall for every sob story that comes your way, and you’d give the shirt off your back just to make the world a better place. Wait, you just did! Now look where it got you— cold and butt naked! You are the bum in EDSA who walks in the nude peering inside people’s cars. Your lucky color is white.
Scorpio: Please don’t get mad, but everybody talks about you behind your back. You think you are so popular, so beautiful, so well-liked but all people think otherwise and all they really care about is your money. Without your money, you are nothing! Luckily, the gods are kind to you and you are bound to be rich for life, so you will never know how unpopular you really are. Your lucky color is green.
Sagittarius: You can’t read, so why bother telling about you.
Capricorn: You are the eternal optimist, seeing the best of any situation. You have no grasp of reality and live in a dream world. According to the alignment of Pluto, your lucky planet, today is the best day to come out of the closet—that is if people still don’t know about you, you flaming homosexual. Don’t forget to smile: smile and the world smiles with you. Cry and you cry alone. Your lucky color is jolina pink.
Aquarius: You are the cream of the crop, the best of the very best and people from kingdom come are just dying to be associated with you. The paparazzi follow your every step because you are oh-so famous and beautiful people flock at your doorsteps hoping you’ll grant them a date this time. Unfortunately, you are autistic and really locked up at the Mental Hospital. Too bad. Your lucky number is 1, a number as lonely as you are.
Pisces: You get on well with people because you are bisexual. Don’t bother getting out of bed today because this is just not your day. If a black cat crosses your path, strangle it. Your lucky numbers are 18 and 6667.22.
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11:04 PM
It's bad enough to like someone who does not like you back. But to have a crush on someone who does not know you exist? Ugh, the pits.
Especially if you're a girl and all you can do is make pa-cute and hope that he'd notice you...
A lesson unlearned
Inquirer News Service
March 13, 2002
RUMMAGING through my things one night, I dug up something I haven't seen for a long time-my grade school autograph book. I began to smile as I was flooded with wonderful memories of carefree days and former classmates as I leafed through its pages.
Typical entries were: Dedication: "Thanks for letting me sign your nice slum book. TCCIC (Take Care 'Coz I Care)"; Describe your crush: "Secret"; What's your most unforgettable moment: "When I slipped in front of my crush at the canteen."
Re-reading my classmates' slum book entries reminded me of one of the things that occupied our minds back then: first crushes. They were either celebrities or schoolmates (I went to a coed grade school). Mine was a schoolmate.
I was in grade five when I first felt the stirrings of young love. My first crush was a grade ahead of me. He was lanky and bespectacled-not crush ng bayan material, although my friends said he looked cute. To me, he was the best-looking guy in school.
I couldn't recall any first encounter, but I would notice him whenever I saw him with someone I knew. As I started to see him more often, I felt strange new emotions. My heart would skip a beat or my stomach would do cartwheels when our paths crossed. Sometimes, our eyes would lock for a second or two. The eye contacts were probably accidental but, na‹ve as I was, I harbored illusions that he was as aware of me as I was of him.
I thought of confiding in my friends, but paranoia got the better of me. I was scared that they might unintentionally reveal my secret and he would find out about it. Not that it would make a lot of difference since he didn't know who I was.
But, like all secrets, it was soon out in the open. One day, a classmate returned a notebook she borrowed from me and said, with a grin, "I saw what you've written at the back." I immediately turned to the last page and saw to my horror that it was filled with thoughtless scribbles of my crush's name. The next day, the news reached others. One or two classmates graciously offered to introduce me to him, "He's my ate's classmate, just tell me when you want to meet him," while some devised plans to get him talk to me. Though I appreciated their trying to help, I wanted to get to know him without anyone's help so I profusely declined the offers and told my friends not to mention the topic again.
My paranoia increased after that. I began to avoid him, simply stealing glances once in a while, because I was afraid that even just by looking I would give myself away. Then the school year ended.
The following year I didn't see much of him and I heard he left for the States the year after that. The accidental meeting I was waiting for never happened. Looking back, I realized how foolish I was to forego a chance to meet him because I was waiting for the right moment.
Though I risked revealing my feelings by asking a classmate or even an acquaintance he was always with to introduce us, it would still have been better to have done so instead of wondering years later what could've happened if only I did something. It's sad that I never got to talk to him because I was too afraid.
Sometimes, we miss the most beautiful moments simply because we refuse to make the first move and choose to sit down and wait. But I was young then, what did I know?
The tragic thing is, I still haven't learned my lesson.
The author is a sophomore Philosophy major at the Ateneo de Manila University. She has recently given up stalking her crushes.
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10:25 PM
If you think picking up guys in this country is easy--even if you have valid excuse for it (like we did)--you are WRONG! This assignment shows that Filipino guys are not yet ready to get "picked up." I guess it's just done not here. Which is why the guys we "picked up" smelled something fishy the minute we approached them.
Nevertheless, I enjoyed doing this little assignment.
Hard art
Inquirer News Service
November 20, 2001
EQUIPPED with nothing but guts and killer getups, we headed to Makati one Saturday night with one mission: to pick up guys. On the surface we were cool, calm and collected. But inside we were going bonkers—at least I was.
Our first stop was Pier One at Fort Bonifacio. We all had drinks to bolster our confidence before spotting our first prospects: two guys a few tables away. Jules and I took on the task.
We moved closer to our preys and prayed that it would turn out ok. We approached them and paused before their table. Eye contact with the guys, check. Exchange of warm smiles, yes. It's now or never.
"Hi, I'm Melissa and this is my friend Jules. Can we join you?" I blurted. If the guys were shocked by our bold come-on, it didn't show. Without missing a beat, they stood up and graciously offered us seats.
Wow, I thought, it's that easy? The guys, Jeck and Chris, were charming and well versed so our conversation flowed well. We swapped cell phone numbers and before we knew it, Pam was signaling us to go. It was time to hunt for new blood. But before we did that, we were faced with the daunting task of telling them about our little "experiment". Thank god the guys were cool with it, although afterwards their smiles became less frequent.
After a while, I left our group and went with Cher to scan the place for fresh prospects. Finally, we set our sights on a group of guys who looked like they were having a blast. Without a moment's hesitation (I'm exaggerating, of course) we approached the group and bravely introduced ourselves.
All conversations halted, necks craned at our direction and everyone at the table stared at us. The silence was frightening and suddenly, I was not feeling confident anymore. Then one of the guys stirred and offered us a smile and his seat. I began to breathe. Cher and I joined the group and we zeroed in on the two Spanish-looking guys seated right next to us, Rafa and Carlos, both junior college students at CSB.
Chitchats and cell numbers were exchanged and after 45 minutes or so, we bade Rafa and Carlos farewell.
Shortly, we went back and spilled the real reason why we approached them. Rafa and Carlos were astounded. A friend of theirs started chuckling aloud while another hooted to the two guys, "And you thought you were hot!" In a while, Carlos half-jokingly remarked, "I knew there was something fishy about you two. You were too aggressive." They agreed to an interview, but refused to have their pictures taken for the paper.
Afterwards, our group headed to Pravda. The place was packed and I saw a couple of people I knew. I was tempted to join them and call it quits with the assignment. It was past 2 a.m., after all, and I was dead tired. Also, it didn't help that all the guys there seemed taken. Luckily, we had a little assistance from Jules. "You see that tall guy standing alone, sipping a drink? That's a friend's friend. He's harmless.
Good luck." And with Jules' blessing we approached Jay (not his real name), a basketball player from DLSU. His friend Luke joined us momentarily and eventually Cher was left with Jay while I was chatting with Luke. He offered to buy me a drink and our conversation lasted longer than I had expected. It was a pleasant surprise when we found out that we both live in the same village. Time flew by quickly until it was time to go, although Cher and I begged for a few more minutes to wrap things up. We told the guys that we had to leave for Pier One. They offered to go with us—that is, if it was ok.
Breaking the news was the part I dreaded. Jay took it pretty well. Luke, on the other hand, felt bad. "So is your name really Melissa?" he asked me skeptically. Ouch. He thought the whole thing was a lie, which was totally understandable. Luke and Jay grudgingly agreed to have their pictures taken and announced that they were leaving right after. So much for the offer to accompany us to Pier One.
Most of the guys we met that night eventually got over the shock of being the guinea pigs of our experiment. I still have contact with some of them as of this writing. Although it was fun meeting them, I truly felt horrible when it came to confessing our ulterior motive. Yet come to think of it, I would never muster the courage to approach any of these guys on my own. And even after finding out how simple it could be with the appropriate smile and the right guy, I don't think I ever would do it.
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8:11 PM
An article about my trip to Canada last summer... I think this version is a bit too short--I had to remove a lot of parts in order to meet Inquirer's word limit. I'm trying to find the original, longer version but it seems that I've lost it. Oh, well.
Going solo in Vancouver
Inquirer News Service
Sept. 25, 2002
By Melissa Telan
IF you wish for peace and calm, then a vacation in Vancouver in spring may be just what you need.
Vancouverites say that Vancouver is loveliest during spring when the air is tinged with the sweet scent of pine, when the cherry blossom is just blooming and when the snow-capped Rockies looms on the horizon. After two years in college, amid the frazzle of midterms, deadlines and presentations, I felt that it was time to revisit the place.
When I was 13, my best friend and I spent summer in Vancouver on our own. Last summer, I went by myself. Initially, my younger brother was to accompany me, but he decided to stay home and spend vacation with the girl he was courting.
The idea of exploring Vancouver on my own didn't daunt me. In fact, the thought of absolute freedom for two months just thrilled me. What I didn't expect was the occasional moments of loneliness and a constant craving for a ready ear and a reassuring laugh only a travel-mate could provide. Peace and calm, indeed, has its price.
Adventures
Armed with only a guidebook, a bus pass, a map of the Lower Mainland (which included Vancouver and its neighboring cities), I set out on the streets of Vancouver.
Every day was unique. One hour, I was enjoying a latte in a cafe at the cobble-stoned streets of Gastown, the next I was having a Greek feast at the Lonsdale Quay in North Vancouver. I ticked off every tourist attraction recommended by the guidebook: universities, galleries, casinos, museums, mountain resorts, science centers and parks.
I was not disappointed, but the real adventure was in places outside of the guidebook when I simply hopped on a bus not knowing where I was going and what I was going to do.
During my first trip to Vancouver, I remembered conducting a mad shopping spree in Metrotown (Lower Mainland's version of Megamall) and Robson Street (think Rodeo Drive of Beverly Hills). But on my recent trip, shopping lost its charm after I realized how expensive everything was when converted to pesos. That is, until I discovered thrift-buying.
Good Finds
With the help of the yellow pages and the dailies, I combed the city in search of thrift stores, consignment shops, flea markets and garage sales. My patience and perseverance was rewarded with good finds: a Griffin and Sabine book (one dollar) at a thrift store in downtown Vancouver, a Nine West black leather tote (eight dollars) in a Salvation Army store in North Vancouver, a Versace purse (ten dollars) for my mom in a consignment shop in Kerrisdale.
But what I liked most about thrift-buying is getting to know the people behind these stores. I swapped stories with an elderly Irish thrift storeowner who, I found out, didn't really need the money she earned from her shop. She was already well-off enough. I listened to more of her accounts before I bade her farewell, and then she removed something from her lapel and placed it in mine. It was a tiny pin of the Canadian flag, "because you're very nice," she said. I was touched. She told me it was her good-luck charm, and it was pinned to her whenever she traveled abroad. "Now, it will go to the Philippines," I told her. She laughed and asked me to visit her again soon.
As I boarded the plane going home, I had a nagging feeling that I forgot something. Now it came to me: I never visited my Irish friend again.
Flirting
One of the things I mastered in my first few days of my two-month trip was the art of dining alone. What I failed to perfect was how to act when someone joins you while you are doing so. Come to think of it, there is no crash course in the art of flirting with strangers, especially if you were brought up the Maria Clara way like me.
If you are female and alone most of the time, chances are you'll bump into ready Canadian bachelors who are happy to get to know you. Or at least ask you out for coffee. You meet them everywhere: the library, the gym and at the streets. At first, I found their brashness rude, and I was unable to react to their come-ons. But, like all things, I got used to it. I soon welcomed the freshness of simply introducing yourself to anyone you fancy without inhibitions. Also, it was a great way to meet cute guys. With the experience, I found out that with an open mind and a ready smile, you can talk to just about anyone.
There is something magical about traveling alone, something enchanting about not knowing how your day will turn out or what you will see but certain that it will be wonderful, because it is something novel. Something you have never experienced before.
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7:30 PM
This is an essay I wrote way back in high school--I found it years later, chiseled it a bit and submitted it to my English class since I was too tamad to write something that time, hehe. After that, I submitted it for publication.
Unlike what some people would like to think, this is entirely fiction... although you can say it's inspired by my weight loss a long, long time ago.
Reflections of an ex-Fat Girl
published in BNEXT
May 20-26
Until three years ago, I was the constant center of ridicule. Everything about me was weird; everything I did made people snicker and laugh. People gossiped about my slightest move, scrutinized my every mistake, and mimicked my actions behind my back.
Or maybe I was just paranoid. But nobody can really blame me because I had every reason to be.
I was 15 then, sick and tired of those shrill jabs I got each time I was ignored, criticized or laughed at because of my looks. My whole life I felt hideous, (no) thanks to my unsightly excess baggage. Being 30-plus pounds overweight, everything about me just seemed disgusting.
I was so sensitive about my weight that I'd cringe at the mere sight of anybody whispering, thinking that they were talking about me. I think one of the most essential lessons I've learned from puberty is that in this society, people are like gifts under a Christmas tree it's the packaging that counts.
So everyone covers themselves with fancy clothes and jewelry; they show off flashy cars with equally flashy dates; travel the ritziest places and tell everyone about it in a "sosi" (elite) twang; and make sure they are seen in the right places with the right people. That is how the world turns.
And how I longed to fit into that world! How I very much liked to be smack in the middle of what was happening to its shallow existence. To be one of "them," be merry, and live like there is no tomorrow. Unfortunately, I was not good enough. I did not have any of the mentioned traits above. I could not show off fancy clothes because my body was anything but fancy. I was not gorgeous enough to lure shining knights in their flashy cars.
Then one day, I firmly told myself that I've had enough. I decided to change everything: I began by setting my goal of shedding 30 pounds. I gave up meat and sweets on February and by March I was going to the gym regularly. Before I knew it, I had curves, breasts, a flat stomach and a whole new wardrobe. Nothing can beat sheer determination when trying to lose weight. And with my new body came everything else.
I swapped my dorky glasses for hazel contacts. My baggy, out-of-date clothes were replaced with trendier, sexier ones straight out of those glossy fashion magazines. I had a complete makeover done by the best salon money can buy. Confidence came out naturally. It drained my piggy bank but who's complaining? By the time school began, I was broke but beautiful.
I made heads turn and tongues wag on the first day of school. The gushing at how thin I had become, how different I am or how prettier my hair looked was nonstop. It didn't take much time for me to be one of them. In an instant, people who never knew my name started coming up to me. I started to receive invitations to the best parties around, and guys with fancy cars finally began to ask for my number. It was all happening too fast. I got what I had always wanted and I couldn't ask for anything better. I was satisfied. Unfortunately, not for long.
I finally got tired of living the "fast life." It was surprisingly exhausting. I had to constantly discipline myself to eat right and exercise regularly because one wrong move could be fatal. And as a jobless teenager still relying on Mommy's and Daddy's allowance, I was having a hard time making ends meet to keep my wardrobe, hair, contacts, and God knows what else. But most of all, I was bored with the monotony of competing with everyone else regarding who had the better body or the cuter boyfriend.
At one point, I suddenly felt hollow because all that seemed to matter were these superficial things. I admit it was fun while it lasted, but then what? Will I be spending the rest of my life trying to stay beautiful and please everyone?
I've never truly questioned it until now, but why is there so much emphasis on the physical aspect in our society? Why is this factor so seemingly significant on a person's standing, his success and failures, and on almost everything else he does? Then it hit me: do looks create the person? I think deep down, I knew the answers all along. It has been clearly pointed out to me since that day the world branded me a loser.
Years of unpopularity taught me that people identify you only with what they see. Looks are important for the obvious reason that the world loves the beautiful ones. The rest are outside looking in. For these "losers", beauty, or other forms of external enhancement, is whatever they want and needsecurity, love, respect, and everything else the world has denied them for not fitting into the mold. For them, beauty is happiness, or so it seems. The obsession suddenly became clear to me, mine and everyone else's.
I blamed my looks for a lot of mistakes and hurt I had received. Ugliness was a sickness, and beauty was the cure. It took me several years to find out how wrong I was. The sickness wasn't skin-deep. I thought that invitations to the hottest parties and compliments about my looks would fill that void inside me. Strangely, it barely made the slightest dent. It's still the same old me: depressed, insecure and unsure just for completely different reasons.
That's the crazy thing about society, the world and life--it tricks you into thinking that what seems and what is are the same. And sometimes, you never even find out the difference at all.
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7:12 PM
wrote this essay for class before submitting it to Youngblood. It makes me sad and nostalgic whenever I reread it.. it reminds me how simpler life was when i little. How even the smallest things could cause me such glee.
And of course, it reminds me of Christine.
Christine’s Swing
Youngblood
IF YOU happen to pass by a street called Sampaguita in Mandaluyong, please give it a kiss for me. This was where I spent the best years of my life.
My old neighborhood in Mandaluyong was anything but posh, a contrast to the village to where we transferred when I turned 9. In spite of that, I loved everything about that neighborhood. Perhaps it was the only place where I truly felt home.
Our old neighborhood was like one big family. There, everyone knew everybody else’s name down to the children, the yayas, and even the vendors who regularly hawk wares on our street (like Mang Jimmy who bellows "Taho!" at eight in the morning and "Balut!" at eight in the evening).
But what made my stay in Sampaguita special were my friends, my old gang. When I reminisce about my group, I remember us playing patintero, langit-lupa or piko on weekends, devouring halo-halo together on lazy summer days and caroling with them during Christmas time. Sadly, my memory bank contains only so much and I can hardly remember anything else about my friends.
There is, however, one person I still remember very well: my friend Christine. She lived right across our old place and, even though she was 4 years older, she was partner in crime. My best friend. Together, we would go hunting for salagubang at the nearby bangin and collect spiders in the basement of our house.
The other kids from our neighborhood thought such activities were icky. Christine and I thought they were icky, and together we would laugh until our bellies ached.
I recall spending countless days in Christine’s house. Actually I liked to go there because of her mama’s heavenly cooking, but she thought it was because of her swing. That white swing, a gift from her papa for her birthday, was Christine’s pride and joy (she was the only one in the neighborhood who owned one).
Christine adored that swing and we would often waste our afternoons taking turns at it, rocking back and forth and pushing ourselves as high as we could.
One day out of the blue, Christine told me she was leaving for America “to get well”. She said she had leukemia, a sickness I’d never heard of then. I was not a bit worried. Christine was a strong girl.
When will she be back, I wanted to know. She said she didn’t know. But while she was away, could I please take care of her swing?
The swing is still with me to this day, 13 years later. Christine never came back for it.
The swing is a bit rusty now, but I would not let anyone put it away. Others may think it is just a piece of junk, an eyesore. But that swing is a link to my carefree childhood days in Sampaguita.
Sometimes, I sit on it (even though it’s too small for me now) and imagine I am six years old again. I would close my eyes and remember Mang Jimmy, who sold taho in the mornings and balut in the evenings. I would remember my old gang and our games during the weekend. And then I would remember Christine and our belly-aching laughter together. And how she loved her white swing. And how I loved her. And how I would never see her again.
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7:10 PM
This piece is about two things I love: bargains and books.
Book lovers’ guide to bargain-hunting
Inquirer News Service
June 20, 2001
SO, you’re hooked on books. You devour every scrap and morsel you can get your hands on, but it’s not enough to keep you still.
It’s exasperating how you constantly find yourself itching to buy another paperback right after you finish one because those ghastly prices at local bookstores simply stop you dead on your tracks. You’re near bankrupt. You’ve spent the remainder of your Christmas money on that P800 “Harry Potter” book and now you’re saving your measly allowance for the new Amy Tan novel you absolutely must have. Too bad. You’re broke, frustrated and fidgeting to curl up with another good read. You lament and ask: What’s a book lover to do?
Why not try bargain book shopping? Bargain book hunting is an art on its own. Bookworms and bibliophiles alike have skillfully mastered this task out of the need to satisfy their insatiable appetite for books while, at the same time, keeping their piggy banks intact.
With the peso on the slump, continuous purchase of foreign-published books could easily drain one’s resources. Aside from avoiding exorbitant expenses, book hunting appeals to one’s sense of adventure and shrewdness. There’s that unexplained joy and feeling of pride once you stumble on a book you’ve sought after for so long without having to shell out so much money. The thrill of discovering new bargain book treasure troves can be so utterly invigorating that it sometimes becomes an addiction.
But before you get excited, let me remind you that bargain books are usually secondhand. Those queasy over the thought of owning musty-smelling softbounds and wornout-looking paperbacks should get over the notion that crisp, out-of-the-printer books are the only way to go. Books are books. Sure it’s great to buy brand new every so often, especially if you have the funds, but you’re missing a big bundle by passing up the chance to go secondhand. While good reads are not cheap, cheap reads can surprisingly be very good.
To all you, book lovers, 2bU! guides you around town for a peek at the best places to shop for books, the bargain book hunter’s way:
Segunda mano
For a crash course on bargain book hunting, segunda mano or bookstores that sell used books is the ideal first stop for neophyte hunters. Locating one is not tough since it’s found nearly everywhere—popular malls, shopping centers, supermarkets and even in obscure and unexpected areas like Quiapo and Baguio.
Such bookstores are a book lover’s gold mine. Crammed in a few square meters are literally hundreds of titles of every genre and price range. But to truly maximize what these stores have to offer, one must remember that patience is a virtue. Good books don’t walk up to you and wave, “Psst, over here!” But really, the search is part of its charm. Here’s a review of one:
Book Sale: Surely you know about Book Sale. With numerous branches scattered not only across Metro Manila but all throughout the country, you may have stumbled upon one. But what’s truly great about it is that it offers such excellent variety of books to keep any bookworm bustling happily for hours.
Books are separated and classified according to condition, genre (romance, children’s lit, bestsellers) and binding (softbound and hardcover). Magazines and comics are also found on certain bins. Spotted lately were Madeleine L’Engle’s “A Wrinkle in Time” (P10), Amy Tan’s “Joy Luck Club” (P25), Anne Rice’s “Interview with the Vampire” (P105), Terry Brooks’ “Sword of the Shannara” series (P90), Stephen King novels (P30-P130) and “Chicken Soup for the Soul” first serving in hardcover (in very good condition at P350). Classics are pegged at P40, almost-new bestsellers at P80 and slightly tattered books in cheap bins, although all pages are still intact, as low as P5.
Each Book Sale outlet, like a fingerprint, is unique. No two stores offer the same assortment although veteran book hunters would swear that the best branches are those located in places people don’t frequent much (so you dodge all the competition!). Check out branches at Virra Mall, Edsa Central, Quiapo and inside Cherry Foodarama in Mandaluyong for the best buys.
Other bookstores to watch out for: Eighty-eight Bookstore, Diplomat and Merriam-Webster.
Recto
Recto is the original “book lover’s haven.” This strip has long been famous as a place to purchase all kinds of cheap, segunda mano books. Ideally situated near the university belt, this is the best site to buy textbooks for the tight-budgeted student. Recto is also a mecca for hard-to-find or out-of-print locally published books that you probably won’t see at most used-books stores. Not just a place to get books, you can also sell your old books here when in need of extra cash or just feel like cleaning out your shelves and drawer. Just remember that prices are not yet final since haggling here is the norm.
Book swaps
If you feel like ridding old books collecting dust in your shelves while getting new ones to fill it up again, then keep your eyes glued on the dailies for announcements of book swaps.
A must-go is the semi-annual Filipinas Heritage Library book swap. Books are appraised and given points by the FHL Book Swap Staff, with 20 points being the highest value for one book.
Book owners are given coupons based on the number of points their books receive. For instance, if you surrender books equaling 50 points, then you will be given coupons worth the same amount in return. You can use these coupons to “purchase” books at the swap.
Seen at the recent swap meet were Erich Segal’s “Love Story” (6 points), Jessica Zafra’s “The Twisted Menace” (3 points), Jackie Collins’ bestsellers (1 point each), John Grisham paperbacks (3 points), Judith McNaught novels (6-18 points) and Alex Garland’s “The Tesseract” (10 points). Back issues of fashion magazines merit half a point each.
Trust me, it’s impossible not to come out grinning from the book swap. For the best book deals, get there as soon as the swap begins. Watch out for the next FHL book swap before the year ends.
Online auction sites
The World Wide Web brings you closer to amazing book bargains. Local online auction sites give book buyers a direct contact with original book owners. Registering as a member is free and easy.
The best thing about online auction sites is the availability of recently published or still popular books that might not be seen at used-books stores for a few more years. Commendable auction sites are eauctions.ph, ebili.com, pinoyauctions.com and bidshot.com. Great finds include “She’s Come Undone,” “Tuesdays with Morrie,” “Bridget Jones’ Diary,” Tolkien’s “Lord of the Rings” series, Christopher Pike novels and “Harry Potter” books.
Other sites to visit include buyand sellph.com, pacific.net.ph’s pacific mall and pinoycentral.com and Pinoyexchange.com’s classifieds section.
It’s late. After rummaging, excavating and haggling all over the Metro, it’s finally time to bring home the newly bought treasures. And with that, the book lover snuggles up, tired but content, and reads the blissful night away.
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7:49 AM
I think this essay is self-explanatory. Every semster, without fail, it comes... I can't wait for graduation, when I won't ever have to encounter hell month again.
How to survive 'hell month'
February 26, 2003
Inquirer News Service
AH yes, dear student, the school year is ending. But before planning that summer trip to the beach, you have to undergo one final hurdle: hell month.
Hell month translates to weeks of distress, agitation and nail-biting due to all the exams, papers, reports and oral defense you have to accomplish to finish the school term.
Your patience and sanity are tested during this period of time as you cope with the nerve-racking pressure of finishing so much work in so little time.
During hell month, coffee becomes a staple, eye bags become part of cosmetics, and acne starts popping uncontrollably on the face.
Times like these bring out the worst in people, so much so that even the gentlest person you know transforms all of a sudden into a cranky ogre.
Although there is no getting past hell month, here is a guide on how to get through it in one piece:
There is no getting around studying. Some people believe that they can get by with just listening to their professor during class time. However, to fully understand the lesson (and getting high marks at that), students must allot some extra studying time on their own.
Have your own study corner. Having a permanent corner would induce you to studying. Your nook should be well lighted, uncluttered, comfy and as quiet as possible. It should also have as little distraction as possible. This means that cell phones should be muted and magazines should be kept at bay. When you can help it, don't take phone calls until you are done with your lessons.
Study regularly. Having a study corner is effective only if you spend time in it at a specific time each day. Consider study time sacred. Before you know it, study has already become a habit.
Stop cramming. Most students seem to live by the motto, "Why do it today, when I can do it tomorrow?" These students get a rush out of beating the clock and submitting their work, although sloppily done, on time. During an exam, they wait until the very last minute before hitting the books, and when that last minute arrives, they don't sleep a wink. Later on, they complain how little sleep they get. Procrastinating during normal times is bad-during hell month it is a nightmare. Perennial crammers should learn how to maximize time and use it wisely. If they won't do it for their grades, they should do it for their health.
Get sufficient sleep. During hell month, sleeping seems a nuisance, a waste of precious time. It is then tempting to forego sleep in order to finish reading for that test tomorrow and writing that term paper due in three days. However, sleeping only two or three hours a day may spell disaster. Losing sleep over studying may get you sick. It may spoil your concentration during a test, or worse you not make it to the test at all. This brings us to the next lesson...
Make sure you make it to the exam. This seems a silly advice, but some people oversleep because they were too tired cramming the night before. Take the case of my friend Liz last semester, who spent all night studying for her 7:30 history finals only to wake up at 9 a.m. and miss the exam entirely.
Make sure you get the exam time correctly. A classmate of mine thought that his oral exam was due 7 p.m. He went to the venue an hour before since he didn't want to be late. Eventually his time came but the teacher did not call him in. Soon he found out in horror that his oral exams had been due 7 that morning. He was not allowed to make up.
Study first the most difficult lessons, and then proceed to the easier ones. When you have two or more exams for the next day, study the more difficult lesson before proceeding to the next. In that way, even if you lack time studying for the easier subjects, you have at least acquainted yourself with the more difficult subject.
Join study groups. Such groups are effective, just as long as they are not mere chat groups on the latest episode of "Sex and the City."
Before going to a study group, make sure you have studied the lesson thoroughly on your own. The study group should serve only as a review group and as support to clarify some concepts you don't understand.
Stay healthy. If you notice, most students get sick during exams time. Colds and fever are plentiful during hell month because of stress, poor eating habits and lack of sleep. It is imperative then to stay healthy during hell month. This means you have to eat well and exercise to keep fit, improve your concentration and minimize stress. You should also take vitamins regularly.
Reward yourself. You are not a machine that can work 24/7 and not have a break. Reward yourself for every milestone you have accomplished. If you have finished studying for that Theology finals, for instance, perhaps you can pamper yourself by reading a good book or getting a pedicure. Remember, every little task you finish leads you one step closer to that much awaited summer vacation on the beach.
Somewhere in time in Biak na Bato
Inquirer News Service
Situated 20 minutes from San Miguel, Bulacan, the Biak na Bato National Park is actually part of two other Bulacan towns, San Ildefonso and Doña Remedios. It was the site of what would turn out to be "cave trekking."
The park is a historic place. It served as shelter for hundreds of Katipuneros fleeing from the Spaniards during the Philippine revolution. Tourists and nature lovers also flock to it for its rich flora and fauna and its jaw-dropping rock formations.
But it is especially known for its caves—there are over a hundred caves in the park; however, only less than 20 have been explored. It is a must to hire a local guide when exploring the caves for the first time. A guide usually charges P150 for each cave exploration.
Our group set our sights on Paniki Cave, or Bat Cave. Our guides said that Paniki Cave is the most explored of all the caves because the trek leading to it is comparatively easier.
The hike was far smoother than I had expected. The trail leading to the cave did not seem steep at all. The relatively cooler climate in the park also helped make the climb leisurely.
It did not seem long before we found ourselves in Paniki Cave. We dipped our feet in the cool mountain water found in the cave while our eyes drank in the gargantuan stalagmite formations.
We let ourselves be hypnotized by the cave's wonders. We made our way back to the resort, but not before leaving our weariness behind. I sighed, and realized it was the first time I had enjoyed a trek.
Leisure farm
We returned to the San Miguel Leisure Farm for lunch. Our food tasted excellent. The fantastic view of the Sierra Madre Mountain Range also helped whet our appetites.
But the best part of my stay was taking my siesta in one of the resort's thatched-roof huts. The huts were small but cozy, and it was considerably cool despite the lack of electricity. Sleep came easy. In fact, it was one of the best naps I ever had.
After siesta, our hosts, Christine and Yummie Ngkaion, announced they were taking us somewhere-not just to another place but to another time.
When our van headed toward the San Miguel town proper and made a turn to Rizal St., we saw century-old houses and we felt, indeed, that we had gone back in time.
But what made the houses special were the role some of them had played in Philippine history. Mr. and Ms F. D. V. Buencamino gave us a tour of the houses while providing facts and trivia.
The De Leon house was said to be owned by a relative of Gregorio del Pilar. Apparently, explained the Buencamino couple, Gregorio del Pilar stayed in the house before proceeding to Tirad Pass.
The De Leon house carried furniture and artifacts from the past century, all peculiar and interesting. But most fascinating were the religious icons, particularly the century-old sculptures of the 12 apostles. They were stored in a dark storage room only to be taken out during the Holy Week for procession. Kept in the dark room, the icons looked almost alive.
The townsfolk believed that the images were magical. The caretaker of the mansion told us the statues were picky on who would carry them during processions. "If they don't like you, you won't be able to lift them. They will suddenly become heavy," he said.
At the Tecson-Mendiola mansion, which belongs to a clan of Chinese-Spanish mestizos, we were told that Emilio Aguinaldo signed the Truce of Biak na Bato there.
Some houses on Rizal St. would be familiar to many since they had been used for movie and television productions, such as the movie, "Filipinas," and the soap drama, "Hanggang sa Dulo ng Walang Hanggan."
We capped our stay in San Miguel with a visit to Ocampo's pastillas factory, where we learned about the basics of making the yummy delicacy while gorging on it.
It was sad that the day had to end. If only I had known sooner, I would have gone to San Miguel earlier.
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