Grrr!

Sa paglipas ng panahon, kukupas ang pintura, makikita ang bulok at kinakalawang na.

Mahigit limang buwan na mula ng lumipat ako ng boarding house.  Akala ko ‘this is the one’. Not until, my landlady is getting into my nerves.

Strike 1: April 8,2013 8pm. Excited akong makita sina mama at papa bukas. At dahil ‘courteous’ nga ako (as I claim, hayaan nyo na), pinaalam ko kay ate landlady. Umakyat si ate sa second floor nun at kukunin ang mga nakasampay na damit nila.

Me: hmmm, ate, darating nga pala sina mama bukas.

Ate: Ilang araw na naman?!

I don’t know kung normal lang ba talagang response yun, pero the way na pagkasabi niya eh parang ayaw niyang nandito sina mama at papa. May tunog pagdadabog. Hindi ko naman nakakalimutan ang mga sabi niya noon. “Ayos lang kung pumunta dito yung mga magulang niyo paminsan-minsan. Bahala na kayong magsiksikan sa kwarto ha.” 

Nakita kong nagsalubong ang kilay ng kapatid ko at mukhang sasagot yata talaga at papatulan si ate kaya dinilatan ko ng mata at sumagot ako kay ate:

Me: Hmmm mga five days poh. Hanggang sa katorse. *sabay lingon sa kalendaryo at titig sa kapatid kong imbyernang imbyerna*

Ano nga kaya ang ayaw niya kina mama? Kung ayaw niya naman kasi, pwede namang patuluyin nlng namin sina mama sa ibang bahay or lodging house. Kung gusto naman niyang mag-additional bayad (para sa kuryente at tubig), aba eh ayos lang talaga sa akin. Ang nakakainis lang eh yung pagpaparinig niya. Propesyunal naman kami pareho. Bakit ba ayaw niya kaming direktahin.

Kaya naman kinabukasan, pagdating na pagdating ko pa lang sa bahay galing duty, sinabi ko agad kina mama ang nangyari. At dun, nagsimula ang connect the dots.

Nun kasing marso lang, pumunta dito sina mama para sa graduation ng kapatid ko. Sa huling araw nila bago umuwi sa probinsya, eh nakisuyo si mama na kung pwede bang matulog ng kahit isang gabi ang tiyahin ko para sabay na silang pumunta ng pier bukas ng madaling araw. At ang nakakawindang na sagot ni ate:

Ate: Ayaw ko sana, kaso naka-Oo ka na eh, kaya wala na akong magagawa.

Unbelievable! Hindi nakapag-react si mama. Hindi pa naman siya talaga um-Oo sa tiyahin ko kaya lang hindi na siya nakasagot. Na shock sa response ni ate.

Kung pwede naman, sana simpleng ‘OK’ nlng. Kung ayaw, sana sinabing “sorry, pero hindi talaga pwede”. Wouldn’t it be better? Naman! Maiintindihan naman namin. To think mas nakakatanda pa talaga si mama kesa sa kanya ng mahigit limang taon. Ganun makapagsalita.

Ang nakakatawa pa dito, supervisor siya sa isang hotel. Ganito ba siya magtrato ng bisita nila?

__________________________ *deep inhale*

Siguro nga’t baka may pinagdadaanan lang siya nitong mga huling araw. Or baka merong regla. Sa paghihintuha namin ng kapatid ko sa psychology ng mga pangyayari, heto ang aming mga findings (nursing student din ang kapatid ko):

– Obsessive – Compulsive si ate. Ayaw niyang may pagbabago sa sistema niya. Dapat maayos ang lahat. (naku! kung alam niyo lang!)

– Dahil wala siyang anak, baka naiinsecure siya pag kumpleto kaming pamilya.

– Dahil naoperahan siya sa ovaries, may feelings of anger detachment insecurities siya towards women with children.

– Dahil supervisor siya sa hotel, napa-practice niya minsan sa bahay na pagalitan ang mga staff niya. (may do not disturb sign pa sa pinto ng kwarto niya!)

– Baka ganun lang talaga yung tono ng pananalita niya. Ilonggang iba ang punto. (diba malambing ang mga ilongga?)

– Baka nga sa sobrang taas ng pagtingin niya sa sarili, eh hindi na niya nakikita ang mga actions niya. (alam ko na gift ko sa kanya sa pasko… salamin!)

___________________________ *deep inhale*

Idinasal ko rin si ate, na maintindihan ko siya, ang sarili ko na bigyan ng mas mahabang pasensya, huwag mawalan ng respeto sa kanya, to watch my words, na huwag labanan ang apoy sa apoy. Maging cool lang.

Si Lord naman, ang bilis ng response. Nitong umaga lang, parang biglang ang bait ni ate sa akin. Grabe naman!

 

Final diagnosis: mood swings.

 

Kaya lang, ang pendulum, isang fraction of a second lang sa bottomest point. Madalas, nakaswing. Nag Strike 2 si ate. *sigh* Hindi ko na ikukwento, baka napatid na si ate sa panlilibak pagkukwento ko tungkol sa kanya. 😀 Smile nlng. Utuin ang sariling ok lang hanggang sa ang mismong mundo na ang maniwala, the least you know it, nawala na ang problema. Sana.

 

Ipinagdarasal ko ang paghinto ng swing, Lord.

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Adelante! Thoughts on the USJR scandal

I had personal doubts commenting about this scandal involving a student from a known catholic school, University of San Jose-Recoletos. (I even debated with myself with the thought of not mentioning the school but since it has made its way to the national news, I forgave myself) Further, I might be tagged as someone who wants to boost my stats or just another opinionated blogger whose overflowing with self-proclaimed ‘wisdom’.

Call me anything you want, this is my blog. :p

Mag-bisaya unta ko. But then, for the sake of my foreign followers, I am English to me. hahaha  Got that?

Enough with the intro!

Warning: This is badly written. Cross the line below at your own risk.

__________________

Here’s the story: The Sex scandal I am talking about involves a USJR student in uniform having some intense sexual action with her boyfriend on cam. Two consenting teenagers exploring their bodies.

In Uniform. With Consent.

The problem with the video (which I haven’t watched in full) is the wearing of the uniform (complete with school ID!). The act was amplified in all the different angles of it. Would it make to the national news if the girl did not wear that cloth? Probably NO.  It would just be another porn video online. You see, you [partly] represent the institution you belong by wearing that uniform.

Uniformity is next to stereotype-y.

But don’t get me wrong! Whether or not you are in uniform, you should never do that kids. All I want to say is, you carry a responsibility of honoring the institution because you are in uniform. Just as other professions like policemen, teachers, doctors, nurses, etc. Change clothes. Respect it.

The school will resume wearing their uniform next week as announced. To let the stir settle a bit, they have suspended it for a time. It was to protect its students from the casual stare they get from wearing that uniform and being mocked by some arrogant people, some even trending the joke “i-USJR mo ako!” (roughly implying ‘do it to me’).

So yeah, those green skirts and white long sleeves are back with much greater honor. Stains can be easily washed off right? And sometimes we need a little bleaching. but still, it’s a learning experience to be careful not to stain it again.

Adelante! (Forward!) USJR shouts!

Adelante! (Forward!), USJR shouts!

 _____________

Rumors spread like wild fire. The Girl is expelled. The Girl committed suicide. The Girl is migrating to the states. The video was uploaded as a blackmail after the girl broke up with the guy. The phone was snatched and the snatcher uploaded it.

Among all these, I can confirm that the girl is allowed to graduate for as long as she complies with the requirements. And that she is alive.

Oh, it is very disappointing how people create stories. How awful has the effect of nighttime dramas twisted their minds?  From reading too much cheap novels? Well, it only proves how primitive our minds are. Sex is still an easy bait.

Right now, as to the legal aspects of this case would cover, I would leave that to the experts. It seems to be not covered by the RA 10175 (Cybercrime Law) but it seems to be under that Anti Voyeurism Act born after the Hayden Kho mess. That’s the limit of my nit-wit right there. Sorry.

_______________

To clear things:

I am not a USJR student.

I have not watched the video. Nor do I have the link. But I tried to watch it. And caught myself guilty of lust. So I stopped. I watched better videos.

I am not perfect. So are you.

_________________

Condemn the act. Not the person.

Let He

Why My Plate is Clean

“Do you have Chinese blood or something?”

A co-worker asked me when we were eating lunch in the canteen.

I wondered where did that question come from. I don’t have small ‘Asian’ eyes nor the skin complexion of the eastern asian race. I’m brown with medium tantalizing  eyes.

“Your plate looks like it has been licked by a dog. “

She sure was giving attention to my way of eating. She explained I must have had those habits presumpting I came from a Chinese family.

Just googled “clean plate” and found this picture amusing. (from rlnaquin.com)

I wanted to tell her the history why I eat every single bit of food leaving only the bones (licked and meat-free to its core). To not feel really weird on narrating my life history to someone I don’t really feel close, I settled with a brief answer.

“No ma’am. I just eat this way.” I answered her, smiling.

In my mind, thoughts raced from the very reason why my plate is clean. It was because of Father. He is a farmer. In my childhood, I have lived seeing how every single kernel of corn and grain of rice is painstakingly made.

My father was a strict disciplinarian. However, formal eating manners like using spoon and forks, washing hands, sitting properly, and making less noise as possible were not on his list. He had just one. EAT WHAT IS SERVED.

Whether you like the food or not, you must eat what’s on the table. It can range from your most hated vegetable or the way the dish was cooked. (They don’t offer us something really exotic or poisonous by the way). You just have to eat or DIE in hunger.

Military style. I liked that. You see, I am grateful for it because now, I almost eat everything else. That means, I can thrive anywhere, at any household. I wont be tagged as the ‘choosy spoiled brat kid whose will is the command.’

He had also this one addition to eating what is served rule: CONSUME WHAT’S ON YOUR PLATE. He did not went knocking on our conscience narrating how other kids in some parts of the world do not have food and how lucky we are that we have this. That’s more of mother’s cliches.

Instead, he settled with the argument that food is scarce, and that it is a blessing. (That sounds pretty much the same point but he does not go through the cliche above). This much applies when we are invited in an occasion, say a buffet dinner, we are only to put food we can consume. He adds “Leaving a little bit of food wont make you look more classy. Don’t follow those socialites always leaving a piece of food on your plate. They don’t know real food.”

I don’t really know why some people don’t eat down to the last grain of food. I guess they have there own reasons; whatever that could be, I respect them. They’re lucky they did not have the same father as I have. Or probably not.