Just A Thought

We often times ask ourselves, conciously and unconciously, of the purpose of our existence in this planet. And because we don't have the answers to this philosophical question directly, we usually resort to finding ourselves on avenues less traveled. Often times too, we get frustrated because we only get more lost in these winding roads. Confusing us more and leaving us bitter with life.

Lately, I have learned that we don't really find ourselves somewhere -- we create it! God has given us the power to design our beings both outwardly and inwardly, and he has given us the ability to define ourselves by granting us the freedom to choose the things that will define our very existence. Therefore, we are not bound by fate, we shape it. With this, it also follows that happiness depends on our own choosing. Misery only comes when one becomes tired of striving to be happy. I want to be happy, contented, and peaceful, and with perseverance, faith and hope, I know that sooner I will be.

Amen.

The Fury Of Mother Nature

The destruction caused by Typhoon Ondoy in the Philippines, particularly in the National Capital Region and most parts of Luzon, displayed the unrelenting fury of mother nature. The catastrophe was akin to what happened during the Ormoc flash flood that claimed thousands of lives. It was very devastating and horrifying that even those who survived the sudden rise of rain water are until still trying to pacify their hearts and minds up to now with regards to the trauma they experienced.

One of the most interesting facts about Typhoon Ondoy is that it poured down heavy rain for about nine hours which according to PAG-ASA was equivalent to the amount of rainfall received by a certain area for one month! For example in Quezon City, it poured down about 455 mm of rain in 24 hours, breaking the record of Hurricane Katrina which only brought 250 mm of rain in New Orleans.

As I watched the news on the tv, the scene of people carried away by the flood, of homeless families settling on gyms, schools, and other public facilities without sleeping mats, blankets, and food to eat, of individuals grieving for their lost properties and love ones, and of the destruction that costs millions, it really breaks my heart that all of these things happened. Don't we have handful of problems already to deserve this kind of tragedy? This is the question addressed to God that I guess is ranting in our minds right now.



Sometimes, when the tragedy is massive and the pain brought by that tragedy is too much for us to bear, it is easy for us to raise our heads and ask God WHY? We are so consumed with our miseries that we failed to acknowledge our contributions to the realization of these tragedies that come into our lives. Most of the time, we create our own disasters and Typhoon Ondoy is one of these. Typhoon Ondoy is the classic example of the catastrophies that will inflict destruction to mankind brought about by climate change. We are just reaping the deeds we sow, the harmfull things we do to mother earth. The small negligence we did, like throwing of candy wrappers and cigarette buts everywhere, and the massive things we performed, like illegal logging and convertion of virgin forest into agricultural and industrial lands, have finally brought us this. No one to blame but us, citizens of this abused planet.



Reactive: Let us help our fellow brothers and sisters in Luzon. Let us donate and contribute whatever we can. Whether in cash or in goods, all these things will at least help alleviate their sufferings right now. Let us help rebuild not just their homes but likewise their spirits, their lives. Through thick and thin, I know we Filipinos will be able to survive this disaster because it is always been our nature to help and hold on to one another in times of crisis. God is always there for us.



Proactive: One of the lessons that this experience taught us is the law of cause and effect. We have abused mother nature because of our ambition for industrialization, now the consequences of our actions have brought us harm. With the same mantra our environmentalists rant, I will say it again: Let us plant more trees, recycle, maintain cleanliness, use technologies that are ecofriendly, conserve energy, and advocate in saving and preserving nature. Let us not wait for another catastrophe such us Typhoon Ondoy to wake us up. Now is the time to act. Remember that an ounce of prevention is better than a pound of cure.

O.R.

Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to my first exposure in the operating room! Brace yourselves as you are about to witness the bloopers of a first-timer OR student nurse!

8:30 PM, The day before my exposure. I couldn't eat. I felt nervous. My palms were sweating with the thought of seeing the insides of a human being the next day. Gross.

9:41 PM. I watched some procedures in YouTube -- ExLap, Bone Traction, Apendectomy, etc. and one thing's for sure, they are all messy and gory.

12:01 AM, The fated day. My eyes were closed but my mind wouldn't left me to peace. I couldn't sleep. I had fears. What if I wouldn't be able to identify the right surgical instruments the surgeon will be asking for? What if I would mistakenly handle to him the Kelly instead of the Mayo? I heard rumors about mean doctors throwing the wrong instruments to the nurse who handed those things to them. Ouch!

2:00 AM. I was banging my head on the pillow. "Sleep, why has deserted me?"

3:00 AM. My consciousness finally drifted to oblivion. ZZZZZZZZZZ...

3:38.65 AM. I dreamed of eating a human brain topped with pineapple slices, mayonnaise and ketchup. In the dream, I was Hannibal Lecter's long lost son. Growl!!!

4:30 AM. The built-in circadian clock in my brain alarmed. Can I change the alarm tone the next time around? Huh!

4:42 AM. I took a bath but the nervousness was not washed away. It grew!

5:10 AM. Breakfast. I ate rice, hotdogs, and fried eggs. I also had a cup of coffee. No human brain, intestines, or liver in sight. Thank goodness.

6:oo AM. I was waiting for the jeepney. Two malnourished dogs were copulating at my side. A hillarious diversion!

7:05 AM. I arrived at Western Visayas Medical Center. My heart was pounding too loudly that I never heard the greetings of my colleagues. The drum in my chest sounded like the beat of war dance.

8:00 AM. The torture of waiting. Our clinical instuctor was alrady one hour late.

8:15 AM. Our clinical instructor arrived. There's someting about his smile, it kinda looked sinister.

8:17 AM. We entered the operating room. Welcome to the chamber of gore and messiness.

8:30 AM. "Mr. Macarse, you scrub now." That was my first cue. My God, I almost forgot the proper way of scrubbing. "Wait, is this the right glove or the left?" My neurons are disintegrating! My brain was trying to retrieve all of the principles of asepsis. System overload...

8:45 AM. Major operation. Exploratory Laparotomy. I was the instrument nurse.

Surgeon: "First knife..... second knife....." (Shit, my hands were shaking!)

Surgeon: "Kelly forceps...." Me: "Come again doc?" Clinical Instructor: "Hand it correctly mister or I will spank your hand!" (Pak! And he did.)

Slash... slash.... swish.... swish.... So that was how our insides looked like. Hmmm... Thank goodness I didn't faint but nobody knows that my legs were shaking underneath! Ha ha ha...

Me (Thinking): So this is how surgery looks like, exposing your insides to a bunch of people you don't actually know..... Letting a person who calls himself as the surgeon excavate your cavities while he hums to the tune of Lady Gaga's Poker Face..... And I don't even know why he hums that tune when the music playing on the background is The Verve's Freshmen.

10:15 A.M. Surgeon: "Lets close this and lets go grab some coffee and buns."

Me: "Hallelujah!" I was exhausted that after I took off my gloves, gown, and other protective apparels, I absent-mindedly took a seat at a nearby stretcher.

Clinical Instructor: "What are you doing mister? Get off your butt and scrub! You will going to assist in OR 4!"

Me: "Right away sir!"

Clinical Instructor: "And please, stop shaking like a vibrator!"

Me (Thinking): Grrrrrrrrrrr.....

The Saint Of Democracy

At 3:18 am, August 01, 2009, at the age of 76, the 11th President of the Republic of The Philippines, Corazon Cojuangco Aquino, died due to respiratory arrest complication brought about by colon cancer.

I was six years old when I often heard the name "Cory" from the lips of the adults particularly my parents. All I know back then was that she was famous since her favorite color which was yellow became the color of my upper school uniform in my kindergarten school. But aside from that, my young mind could no longer digest what the lady named "Cory" has done for our country.

I was in my elementary years when I got a full grasp of Cory's role, mission, and ordeals in restoring our debilitated country back to its former healthy shape. It was during these years that a lot of coup attempts surfaced and since my father was a military man, these issues were often brought up especially during meal time, though my father did not participated on such coup attempts. It was pity that I felt for Cory during those times of tribulations since how could a meek and soft-spoken woman retort to uniformed men with guns and tanks?

Corazon Aquino may not be the great president during her rule for the country's economy was still on the quagmire of impoverishment and the instability of the country's political system often created an air of insurgency. But in my humble opinion, who would be the right person to take the position of presidency during those dark times? I think the late former president Aquino was the one most fit since her integrity was untainted, her faith was firm, her honesty was unquestionable, and her love for the people and country was radiating. She served as the light of the country in its moment of gloom.

Cory, until her final moment, taught us that we don't have to resort to harshness and violence just to win the ideals we are fighting for. She taught us that the best way to win a battle is through humility, faith, and sincere love for others.

I am lucky I was able to live during Cory's time. At least I could share something to the future generations some tidbits about this heroine. If ever someone will ask me when I grow old what can I say about Corazon Aquino, I would say "She was the only woman, aside from my mother of course, that really exemplified the phrase GRACE UNDER PRESSURE."

I would like to pay tribute to the late Corazon Aquino, who fought for the freedom of this country, who lived her life for the Filipino people, and for unifying us all. She is indeed the saint of democracy.

This Is Not Your Television Drama Show

When will the drama ends? Whose heart shall be crushed to pieces? Will friendship stays the same? Or will it become a memory of the past?... Love... Lies... Desertion... Pain...

Childhood and MJ

I haven't read a children's book for a long time since the Harry Potter series until now. I have just finished reading The Thief Lord by Cornelia Funke and well, the book was good. A kind of book that will help you pass through the night and drowse you to sleep and be a child again in your dreams, wandering in strange places you're not familiar with. Actually, I didn't have the intention to read the book, because aside from the fact that I have no time lately for leisure reading, the book reminds me of a painful memory. It was given to me as a gift by my ex. But that was already a long time ago, I guess it's time for me to move on so there it was, I flipped the pages and I read from cover to cover. I was surprised because I didn't feel anything at all upon perusing the book every night. Maybe I have moved on indeed. And I am happy.

The book by the way tackles about childhood. As a child, how we have often wished to grow and become adults faster. Why? Because we wanted to do things our own way without grown ups having a scrutinizing eye on us, telling us what and what not to do. We wanted to be independent, to have an autonomy in every aspect of our lives. We wanted to be the masters of our own decisions, of whatever path we choose to travel. But it is also very ironic that as adults, how we sometimes wish that we could go back to being a child and remain as one, just to escape all the hardships and perils we face everyday. We wanted to be free-spirited, carefree, naive, and innocent again. Free from all the worries that makes this world seem chaotic, harsh, and cold. Scipio and the Conte are the two charcters in the story that represents these contrasts: the struggle to gain independence and autonomy, and the longing of the innocence lost.

I think what Ms. Funke is trying to say in this story is that childhood is like a precious vessel that once broken, it could never be put back again into its original form. It's beauty is destroyed forever. So enjoy it while innocence still holds back the pieces of childhood together. For regrets is a bitter thing of the future.

-oOo-

I would like to pay tribute to Michael Jackson, the king of pop, the man who changed the face of pop music in the whole world, and the man who never enjoyed his childhood. May he rest in peace. His music and legacy will live forever. Amen.

A Letter From A Mama's Boy (In This Special Day for Mothers)

Dear Nay,

Words cannot express how deeply I am thankful for having you as my mother. You've been, since the beginning of my existence, the stirring force of my evolution. I am what I am now, a strong and good person, because of you.

Nay, thank you for being the firm pillar to support me in times of my weaknesses, failures, and frustrations. Thank you for believing in me when others started to loose their faith. You said that you will always be my number one fan and every time I think of that, it never fails to make me smile.

Thank you too nay for all of your sacrifices, for the tears and sweats you have shed for us. For me, they were like pearls suspended and glittering in the dark sky. You shall always be my inspiration, my strength, and my endless river of hope. Thank you for the love and for trying to bring me closer to the Creator who gave you to me. You are my superwoman nay!

I know I have said these phrases to you a millions times, but still my heart won't get tired to say these to you over and over again that "I LOVE YOU" and that "YOU SHALL ALWAYS BE IN MY MEMORY FOR AS LONG AS I LIVE".

Happy Mothers Day Nanay Carmen! God bless you always.

Jim

To Nanay

I just would like to thank nanay for teaching me over and over again how faith works. You're right nay, God indeed knows how to put everything in the right time and the right place. Thank you for your patience. Your sacrifices are greatly appreciated. You will always be my great inspiration. I love you nay.

Just Dropping By

Duty days are here again...

First Rotation: West Visayas State University Medical Center

Got to go! God bless us all.

The Phoenix Shall Rise Again

Broken (Once Again)

It hurts so bad to think that the people who gave you hope and inspiration are the ones who will take it back away from you. They gave you wings to fly only to shoot you down in return. This is what I am going through right now. This is what I feel. I almost returned my faith back towards life, but now, it's broken again to pieces. I do not know if I will be able to heal myself this time and make my spirit whole because the wound is just too deep that it penetrates my soul. I am confused and hurting as of the moment. The pain in my heart is killing me. But I am still clinging on to hope desperately for the sake of those people who still love me and believe in me.

God Is Dead?

I was six or seven when I started to notice that my mother often ordered me to settle when I became restless and playful every Holy Friday. I was also not allowed to shout, laugh loudly, and even go out from the house during this day of the year. When I innocently asked my mother why, she answered me saying: "Because today, evil spirits are roaming around, and they are so vicious that they will try to harm you if you will be noisy, fidgety, and if you will not stay here inside the house..."

"And why are evil spirits roaming today nay?" I inquired.

With a seemingly mortified face my mother replied, "Because today son, God is dead..."

My initial reaction upon hearing those words was of course shocked. I went to one corner and pondered on the thought that at that moment, God was not in heaven but buried underneath the earth. But what or who killed God? This was the next question hanging on my thought at that time but I didn't bother to ask more my nanay fearing that I might annoy her and she'll send me to bed for the afternoon siesta.

Of course when I turned into an adult later on, I found out that this idea is not true and often times very confusing and deceptive to children (and even to some grown ups). Jesus, the Son of God, died only once and the reason for his death on the cross of Calvary is to save us all. Jesus cannot be put into death again and again for the reason that he had already conquered death a long time ago when he resurrected from the grave on the third day after his death. Let us all erase this misconception from our kids' minds and likewise from ours too. Instead, let us implant into their hearts and minds that Jesus died thousands of years ago just to give us the chance to live forever.

Cold Mountain

The first time I came across with Cold Mountain by Charles Frazier, it was on the big screen. I watched the movie because I am a big fan of Nicole Kidman and Rene Zelweger. I find the movie good and the two mentioned actresses and Jude Law very convincing in portraying their characters. At the end, the movie made me melancholic and sad, but hell, it was really beautiful. Rene by the way, won her first Oscar as best actress in a supporting role for that movie.

The second time I came across with Cold Mountain was when I was looking for second hand books to be read at night, to drowse me to sleep, at a local bookstore. The book was sold cheap and since I already saw it's movie version, I bought it out of curiosity if the screen adaptation really tried to stick to the novel. And so it started every night, since I only read two or three chapters a night, that the lives of Inman, Ada and Ruby were unfold not in my eyes but in my imagination.

The setting of Cold Mountain was very rural and Frazier was very successful in conjuring the rural mood in his novel. The tall mountains, the lovely meadows, the lonely dirt roads, the slithering rivers, the vast farm fields, the mysterious twilight, and the plain folks and their traditional way of life all gave me the feeling of profound simplicity and serenity. But these was of course abstracted by the ongoing civil war happening in the land which added a feeling of anxiety and uneasiness both I think on the characters (especially Inman who was always haunted by the war scene he had witnessed) and the reader himself (I am talking about myself particularly).

Inman's travel toward home was like a metaphor of my own pilgrim towards self realization. The dangers he met along the way and the obstacles that tried to block him from returning home are like my struggles and battles that until now I still try to overcome. The gore and bloody wars he encountered are like my past that still haunts me to this very day. Inman's thought were focused on his beloved Ada, that is why, his determination to go on with life and his journey was so strong that only death could stop him. Likewise with myself, my determination of making myself whole and fulfilling my fate is what keeps me moving forward with positivity.

Ada and Ruby, the heroines of the story, were two opposite characters. Ada was educated and literate, Ruby was not. Ruby was a self-reliant, hardworking, and practical gal, Ada was otherwise. Ada was the artist, Ruby was the one who appreciates. Ada was sophisticated while Ruby was superstitious. The contrast between the two main female characters of the novel was quite obvious but it was amazing that the two were able to live together in harmony, supporting each other in the name of survival. Same so with ourselves, sometimes we contradict our very own selves that often confuse us. But then again, in the end, these contradictions inside us meet half way to come up with one unique idea, thought or opinion. And whatever ever it is, it is who we are. All in the name of self-preservation and realization.

Cold Mountain speaks about love lost, friendship, and the determination of the human soul. All in all, it was a very delightful read. Very poignant yet a masterpiece of beauty. I tried not to shed a tear up to the very end but unfortunately, I did.

A Nation Of Servants

Yeheeey! I passed my Pathophysiology and Nursing Care Mangement subject! All my fears are finally obliterated to dust! Thank you Lord. One more year and hopefully I'll be able to finish my schooling.

-oOo-

Just this week, Filipinos were enraged upon reading an article written by a Chinese journalist in a local magazine in Hong Kong that "maliciously" branded our country as a nation of servants and indirectly, a land grabber. Like the others, I was also infuriated by the harsh and discriminatory statement of the writer because first, Filipinos, especially our OFWs have a big contribution to the economy of the place (Hong Kong) and I am referring not just those domestic helpers but those skilled and professional Filipinos working in big companies there. Second, Chip Tsao (that's the name of the writer), have no right to call us indirectly as a "land grabber" because they ,the government of China, have not yet proven that the Spratly Islands really belong to them . Every neighboring countries (i.e. Vietnam and Malaysia) near the group of islands can claim it as their own since Spratly is geographically situated "between" these countries. And I think, unless the dispute about the different claims is settled, everyone can still insist that Spratly is their's.

On the other hand, this incident, the "mocking" of the Filipino race, is again a wake up call for the public leaders of this country to do something about the flight of our brothers and sisters into other countries just to find greener pasture for survival. It is time for our leaders to stop politicizing and instead, do their jobs by focusing more on finding ways to generate jobs here in our country so that the sending of our fellowmen to work for aliens will be put to a stop . And again, we must do something against poverty for this is the main cause why Filipinos opted to work as domestic helpers abroad (and often get mistreated) rather than die here because of hunger. It is a sad fact that we still rely greatly on the economy of others just to make our fragile economy survive. We can say that Chip Tsao is such a mean and arrogant person, a racist, and an idiot for the statements he wrote about us. But can we blame him totally for it? Don't you think that we have a part of this too for this is the image we try to impress on them? If we will not start acting today, doing things that will help alleviate poverty here in our country and not just by mere lip service, we will remain still as a people trying to serve others for compensation and survival and as a "nation of servants" in the eyes of the rest of the world.

What If's

What if Snow White wasn't really a super smooth, super fair-skinned maiden but a woman suffering from albinism and psoriasis?

What if the Seven Dwarves were not actually the dwarves we know in fairy tales or mythologies but some men suffering from pituitary gland malfunctioning?

What if Sleeping Beauty wasn't really in a stupor because of a witch's curse but in a coma after she accidentally stepped on a bar of soap on the bathroom floor, slid, and bumped her head on the wall?

What if Cinderella wasn't really the owner of the glass slippers but just claimed them as her own because she wanted to marry the prince so badly to instantly get rich?

What if Rapunzel's hair were not really that naturally ultra long but just mere fake extensions done in a salon just to impress the prince and lure him to her tower so that she could have some kinky moments with him?

What if Humpty Dumpty's fall was purposely done by his bestfriend because the latter got jealous after learning that his name wasn't included in the famous nursery rhyme?

What if Jack's magical beans were not really magical but some sort of mutated peas genetically modified by visiting alien lifeforms from Mars?

What if Little Mermaid's loss of voice wasn't really the sea witch's doing but a result of laryngeal cancer due to excessive and chronic smoking of an illegal seaweed?

What if Hansel and Gretel were really spoiled brats and that after eating the old hag's candy house pushed the poor old woman on the boiling cauldron and spreaded the news that she's a cannibal so that their mischief would not be discovered?

What if Rumpelstiltskin wasn't really interested in the Queen's baby but just suffering from attention-deficit hyperactivity disorder?

What if Little Red Riding Hood's grandma wasn't really swallowed by the wolf but that grandma was the wolf herself because she possess the ability of lycantrophy?

What if I'll just go to the kitchen right now and fix myself a supper so that my brain cells will stop disintegrating totally and stop all these delusional inquiries?

Yeah, I think I better should.

Email Metaphor

My first email, I created it when I was 18, was jimlynx@another.com. The name was the combination of my nickname "Jim" and of "Lynx" which is a specie of a wild ferocious cat and happens to be my codename when I was an officer of the Citizen Army Training (CAT) during my last year in high school. I kind of like the combination of the two because it represented my shy and covert personality; and the sleeping ferocious "inner me" which is ambitious, idealistic, tough, self-determined, and bold. I used it since then and eventually got tired of it when I entered my early twenties.

The next email I created and use for my fancy was when I reached twenty. The email was lestat(with numbers attached but sadly I have forgotten it)@yahoo.com. My "young adult" life was very turbulent at that time. I was starting to ask for the purpose of my existence at that point in my life and the "meaninglessness" of life ended by death suddenly had an impact on me that I suffered mild depression. It was also during that moment that I read Anne Rice's Vampire Chronicles and the fictional character of the protagonist/villain Lestat charmed me that I used his name as a pseudonym for countless times before. Why? Beacuse I felt that we were the same during that time --- a philosopher, rebel, wanderer, heretic, and yes, a stupid brat.

I was 24 when I created my third email, van_helsing1980@yahoo.com. From vampire to vampire slayer email! Whew! The possible reason for this change was that I am done with my rebellion against the world, so now it's time to confront myself and ask the questions: "Who are you? Why are you still here? What is it that you really want?" It was like a war waged against my own self because the real me tried to evade this reality check questions. The real me during that time didn't want to get out from his comfort zone of surreal sphere. But it was time to face fate and so war happened and the sphere of fantasy was destroyed. Eventually, Van Helsing the slayer, killed Lestat the vampire in the end.

rbmacarse@yahoo.com, my current email add. This is the real me. The man that is now willing to face his destiny, whatever it is, with a courageous heart and an unshaken soul.

There you go, the evolution of my email address and the evolution of me. I never thought my emails and my personality has something to do with each other, not until I wrote this entry. Pretty deep huh? Ha ha ha...

P.S. I have an alternate email too that I forgot to mention that I am also using right now. It's ieremor_esracam@yahoo.com. It is still me, the only difference is that it's the "twisted me". Bwa ha ha ha... Ciao!

A Random Thought From A Nursing Student

I want to become a nurse someday, not just for the mere prospect of working abroad and earn dollars or euros but of course to serve humanity. "To serve humanity," a very cliche phrase that usually raises the eyebrows of others upon hearing this as a reason why one is taking up nursing. It's hypocrisy according to them because who in his or her right mind would invest thousands and thousands of money for nursing education just to end up wiping other people's drooling saliva? It may be true to some but this notion is totally unfair for those who really have the compassion and the sincerity to help and serve his/her fellow men.

It is quite sad to think that people nowadays view the nursing profession as a mere gateway for a greener pasture. The white cap nurses are wearing is now equated to the dollar sign. And it is more saddening to think that nursing education is very expensive in our present time that those who truly possess the innate quality of a genuine nurse cannot afford to be educated and thus establish themselves in this niche. That is why it is not surprising that one will encounter grumpy, snobbish, and unapproachable nurses in every hospital. I call them as pseudo-nurses in which they do have all the nursing knowledge swirling in their brains but do not have the true compassion and love for the unfortunates stirring in their heart. They could afford nursing education, but they couldn't buy the nursing spirit. I see them most of the time as I have my duty in clinical areas and it irritates me to see them destroying the integrity of this noble profession which was founded by the selfless progenitors of nursing.

Lastly, let us not forget that the core foundation of nursing is to care and heal the sick, and uphold and protect the human dignity even in the face of death. So for once, let us nurses and soon-to-be nurses act like one.

Beep! Beep!: The Jeepney Experience

Public Use Jeepney (PUJ) or simply known as dyip has been one of the national symbols of our country. For decades, after the American occupation era, the dyip has been an important means of transportation for Filipinos especially the masa, both in rural and urban places. The left-over of the US Military jeeps were transformed into flashy vehicles ready for public use and has now become our identity and part of our culture. As a Filipino myself, I couldn't imagine life here in the Philippines nowadays without the jeepneys. It seems like everything here in this country would stop, from education to economy, if all jeepneys would be eradicated from the streets.

I always ride on a jeepney when going to the city of Iloilo from my humble town Maasin especially on school days. Commuting on a dyip will give you a lot of experiences. Some of them are funny, some of them are exhilirating, some are irritating, and some are just plain boring.

During school season, I often don't get enough sleep for the reason that I study, make my assignments, and take some notes until early dawn (very diligent huh? lol). Because of this, I often make jeepneys as my siesta cribs until it take me to my destination. There was a time when I was too sleepy and my consciousness was starting to dispersed into oblivion when I unconciously banged my head to the head of the commuter next to me. I was so ashmed of the incident that I pretended that I was still sleeping even though at that time I was already fully awake. The picture that I saw in my mind at that very moment was that all eyes were looking at me especially the searing eyes of the person in which I bumped my head into. I was sweating but I really didn't care much, because I was pretty occupied acting sleeping.

There was also this one instance in which I took a nap while commuting and later, I suddenly woke up and catched my mouth open while the other passenger sitting across me was staring at me as if wanting to throw something on my half-gaped mouth. Again, to save myself from further embarassment, I just closed my mouth and pretended to be asleep again which of course I was not. I realized from then on that acting sleeping was not an easy task.

I really hate women with long hair who doesn't know how to keep them sitting ahead of me in a jeepney. The ordeal of a hair slapping at your face for 45 minutes (that's how long it takes to travel from my town to the city) is unbearable and I have experienced it several times already and it always makes my face red like a tomato. To deal with this matter, I usually ask the woman to keep her hair because if not, my vicious killer instinct would surely "unhair" her head, making her like Sigourney Weaver in Alien movies. How I love to play the extraterrestrial creature's part!

If there is one thing I really couldn't forget riding a jeepney, that is everytime it will speed up like rocket (that it will make your hair stand up to the tip!) and the driver is a reckless daredevil. The scary part is when it overtakes a vehicle with super speed and you'll see that another vehicle is fast approaching your way. One thing for sure: you would surely pray hard for your dear life especially when it happens that you are sitting in the front seat. A dear friend of mine once told me that the difference between a priest and a reckless driver is that everytime a priest delivers his sermon, people get drowsy and eventually sleep on their pews. Meanwhile, a reckless driver when driving fast (like a trip bound to hell), could effortlessly make his passengers call all the saints and angels in heaven like Armagedon is at hand! How ironic but true.

If ever there will come a time that I will leave this beloved country of mine for a reason I still don't know, jeepneys and the experience of riding these unique vehicles will surely a miss for me. You can never say "Para!" to taxis in New York anyway.

My Life

What would my life be without coffee?

It would be a life in a state of comatose.

What would my life be without music?

Dull and boring. Deaf. Catatonic.

What would my life be without books?

Somber. Dismal.

What would my life be without movies?

Problematic.

What would my life be without my studies?

Hopeless.

What would my life be without the problems and trials that come my way?

It's like watching a dull movie for eternity.

What would my life be without my enemies and detractors?

Weak and fragile. No drama!

What would my life be without my friends?

Miserable, sad, uneventful.

What would my life be without my siblings?

It's like a scattered jigsaw puzzle.

What would be my life without nanay?

A total void. Nothing.

Maasin

Many times have I been too far away from my hometown Maasin for a very long period of time and the memory of my beloved place always haunted me during those moments. Maasin, like Cagayan de Oro City (the place where I spent most of my childhood years), holds a very special spot in my heart, maybe because a lot of precious memories have I created in the said place. Life in Maasin is very simple and yet the things that I, or we Maasinanons (that's what we call ourselves), often do and see here are the things we really miss the most whenever we get too far away from our dear hometown. Things like...

Jogging in the morning and strolling in the afternoon around the plaza....

The statues of Andres Bonifacio and the soldier at the center of the poblacion...

Swimming in the muddy river...

The Town Fiesta...

The Tultugan Festival...

Taking a bath using the "bomba" or the hand water pump...

The noisy bustling during market day every Monday...

The shits of dogs that often greet you when walking along the narrow streets early in the morning...

The bamboos...

The carabaos...

Our family roots...

The flood during typhoons...

The fountain with the bust of a fish that only spills water from its mouth during special occasions (like fiesta, Christmas, New Year)...

Riding "trisikads"...

Drunkard neighbors...

Blue Fields...

Eating batchoy and pizza at Janken...

Squating at the sidewalk at night underneath the lampost, texting...

The "kadyos" and "monggo" dishes...

Going to the congested cemetary during All Souls Day...

Diving in the dam...

An of course, our dear friends, classmates, barkadas, and other acquaintances...

I know that there might be a possibility in the future that I will be once again taken away from my hometown because we never know what fate has instore for us, but I know that I will always come back from time to time to Maasin for the place has become a part of person, a part of my identity.

The Statue of Andres Bonifacio at the Poblacion Plaza and the Municipal Hall

The fountain with the fish bust

The Poblacion Public Market

One of the narrow streets of Maasin