Surprise Visit

Sigurado ako naranasan niyo ng maligo sa ulan. E ang mag-swimming sa baha? Ako oo! Dalawang beses pa.

Una, noong nasa elementarya pa ako. Ang saya-saya naming mapi-pinsan habang feel na feel naming inaanod kami ng tubig baha. Walang pakialam kesyo may mga lumulutang na mga ipis o kung anu-ano pang mga bagay na produkto ng tiyan ng tao at hayop. Pangalawa, heto at sariwa pa sa alaala ko. At siguradong habang buhay nang tatatak sa aking gunita.

Araw ng Sabado, nagising ako sa tunog ng ulan na walang tigil sa pag-patak sa bubong namin. May bagyo nga pala, sabi ko sa sarili ko. Sumilip ako sa bintana. Lampas talampakan na ang baha! Napangiti ako. Sa buong Marikina kasi, isa ang lugar namin sa mga bihirang bahain.

Pagkatapos mag-ayos at dumiretso ako sa kusina at tinulungan sa pagluluto ang Mama ko. Habang nagpi-prito ng tosino ay aliw na aliw naman akong pinagma-masdan unti-unting pag-akyat ng tubig sa labas.

Mga nasa limang pulagada na siguro ang lalim. Ilang minuto ang lumipas. Nasa binti na ng Tito ko. Ilang minuto pa ang nagdaan. Halos maabot na ang tuhod niya. Ilang sandali lang ay papasok na ang tubig. Hindi rin nagtagal at nangyari na ang kinatatakutan mg Mama ko. Dali-dali naming inangat ang mga gamit sa baba ng bahay, kasama ang washing machine na nakaligtaan naming meron pala kami.

Pero walang mababakas na pag-aalala sa aking mukha. Totoo nyan, naka-ngiti pa ako. Sabi ko nga, bihira lang kasing mangyari ang ganito.

Walang tigil ang pag-ulan. Wala ring tigil ang pagtaas ng tubig. Mabilis. Ilang minuto uli ang lumipas. Hanggang tuhod na ang tubig sa loob ng bahay. Hindi na namin alam kung ano pang pag-angat ng gamit ang gagawin namin. Pinabayaan na lang naming lumutang ang sopa.

Dahil basa na rin, lumabas kami ng bahay. Hanggang hita na ang tubig. Sa galak ay nakuha ko pang kumuha ng mga litrato.

Umakyat na sa bewang ko ang tubig.

Nawalan na ng kuryente.

Nag-patuloy kami sa pag-salba ng mga gamit.

Hanggang tyan ko na ang baha.

Nawala na ang tuwa.

Nanginginig na ang buo kong katawan. Pakiramdam ko lulan ako ng barkong Titanic at pinagma-masdan ang unti-unting paglubog nito.

Nagpasya na akong umakyat. Wala na rin kaming magagawa nung mga panahong iyon. Nakuntento na lang ako sa pagma-masid ng mga kaganapan mula sa terrace. Naaawa kong pinag-masdan ang mga pusang nilalamig sa bubong nga mga kapit-bahay, ang mga batang inililikas ng mga magulang. Isang kapitbahay ang dumaan sa tapat at nag-dala ng masamang balita – meron na raw namatay. Nalunod.

Muli kong binaling ang atensyon sa ulan. Hihinto rin yan maya-maya, sabi ko.

Lumakas ang hangin. Tumaas pa ang baha.

Hanggang sa dumilim. Naalala ko, wala nga pala ang Papa ko. Nandun sa kaibigan niyang nag-iisa at may sakit. Sabi ng Tito ko, hanggang balikat na raw ang tubig sa labas. Wala namang second floor dun sa bahay ng kaibigan ng Papa ko, naisip ko bigla…

Lumalim ang gabi. Hindi ko na alam kung gaano na kalalim ang tubig sa labas. Pumikit ako at nag-dasal. Di nagtagal, naramdaman ko na lang na uminit ang hangin. Tumigil na rin ang ulan. Tahimik akong nag-pasalamat at nahimbing.

Kinabukasan nagising ako sa sinag ng araw na direktang tumatama sa aking mukha. Tapos na. Sumilip ako sa bintana at nasambit ang, “PUTIK!”. Andyan na rin si Papa. Balik na uli ang lahat sa dati – o siya nga ba?

Buong araw kaming nag-ayos at nag-linis ng mga bakas na iniwan ni Ondoy, ang di inaasahang bisita. Bakas ang pagod sa mukha ng bawat isa. Bawat pag-buhos ng tubig at pag-kuskos ng namuong putik may kakambal na buntong-hininga.

Gabi na ng muling bumalik ang kuryente. Agad kong binuksan ang TV at naabutan ang mga balita tungkol sa nakalipas na bagyo. Libu-libo ang na-apektuhan. Hindi iilan ang nasawi. Marami pa ang kailangang tulungan. Muli akong napa-pikit. Sinabi ko sa sarili, maswerte ka pa talaga.

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For almost a month now, I’ve been drowning myself with songs from the 90’s and early 2000’s. Those are the songs that I grew up listening to as a kid. Songs that never fail to give me that poignant, nostalgic sensation that I’ve always loved.

Sigh.

Backstreet Boys, Westlife, M2M, Alanis Morissette, Steps, The Moffatts, Hansons, Joan Osborne, Oasis, Aqua, Switchfoot and a whole lot of them others keep on repeating in my playlist. What the heck happened to them? These dudes and dudettes remind me of the old times when all I have to care about is…now what did I care about when I was a child? TV? Ah, how I miss those days!

It’s really wonderful going back to those memories. Makes you laugh about the silly things you did before. And makes you laugh harder after realizing how sillier you’ve become. Truly, maturity doesn’t correlate to age.

So what’s the story behind the drama? Hmm, nothing really serious. It’s just my birthday. Yeah, I’m twenty. Two-Zero. Bente. I feel ancient.

But mind you, I’m not on Emo mode right now. Not even depressed. Why should I? It’s my friggin’ birthday! I guess I’m just starting to feel more like an adult now, though still not psychologically ripe. I simply feel like I really AM an adult! I feel like I should take charge, be more responsible for my life, not that I am not before. But my excursions to the past prove I’m not ready. Not yet.

Another cause could be the fact that in a few months now I will be – guess I’ve said this before – bidding adios to the portals of my alma mater. Graduation. Before, I’m scared of entering college. But now I don’t think I’m prepared enough to leave it. But that’s how life goes. Everything has to end. But as Semisonic puts it, “Every new beginning comes from some other beginnings end.” Brilliant. I can’t wait for that new beginning.

Alright! So much for the drama. Just want to extend my super thank you to my uber amazing friends who gave me the best surprise ever. You really got me in my most vulnerable. Fudge you guys. You’re the ‘awesomest’ creatures of all! And now time for my birthday cake!

Offline

Now that I’m counting only a couple of months till graduation, it’s not unusual for me to be exposed to a lot of tasks and responsibilities necessary for me to get that friggin’ piece of parchment called ‘diploma’. Stuff like studying for our exams, creating a unique, innovative, marketable product for Consumer Behavior, making a novel-based comic book for that effin’ World Literature, catching cockroaches, mosquitoes and all them disease-causing minute creatures for Microbiology and Parasitology, finding a reputable company where I can have my OJT, and most importantly, accomplishing our thesis which, until now, is only half-way done, and so forth (mind you, my major’s Psychology, though the subjects don’t reflect).

So yes, I’m exposed to a whole lot of stressors. But that was it. I’m only exposed, not really stressed. For I’m not doing everything I have to do to ‘feel the stress’. Some people blame it on my slothful tendencies. But me? I blame it on the Internet.

I know it’s not right, but I’m starting to notice that my whole life’s slowly being taken over by technology, especially the WWW. I feel edgy whenever I fail to go online to blog-hop, or check my Facebook and email accounts, or even get trivial updates on Yahoo! I go online more often than I should perform more essential duties. Internet addiction? Well, I hope I’m not there yet.

So, trying to break the habit, I had a self-imposed Internet-free day. That is one whole day of not clicking Google Chrome on my desktop and doing those things that I’m trying to, wanting to, and should do. And the outcomes were quite satisfying (Note that I got home yesterday at around 6:30 PM):

1. I was able to re-read and re-edit our thesis;

2. I was able to clear out the junkyard that is my room;

3. I was able to read several chapters of the book I’m trying to finish;

4. I was able to edit the uber TH (trying hard) music video I made; and

5. Again, I was able to make a blog entry!

So the attempt was an epic success. I felt thrilled by the thought that I could last a day without the Internet. And by 12:01 AM, I’m back to the online world again.

How Facebook Enhances Self-Esteem

Now allow me talk about this whole new frenzy in the World Wide Web — Facebook. In the beginning, it appeared to be just one of those ubiquitous social networking sites teenagers addictively talk about. But apparently, FB serves more than just finding long lost friends or playing games or answering unbelievably stupid personality quizzes. Moreover, it boosts one’s self-esteem!

Friends For Sale

“I feel self-actualized because of Facebook, specifically with FFS,” says Jake, one of my friends.

One FB application I really don’t grasp the essence of at first is Friends For Sale (FFS). Now the idea is to buy your contacts and make them your ‘pets’. Doing so, it will increase their worth and at the same time, when another person buys your pet, your money will be returned with added bonus. It’s a win-win situation for both the owner and the pet, if you’re going to think of it.

So how does it enhance your self-esteem? you ask.

Take a look at the explanation above. When someone purchases you as his/her pet, your worth increases. So the more you get bought, the more you get a higher value. The more you feel you’re appreciated, accepted by many. The more you feel you’re popular. Sense of belongingness magnified.

I actually know a lot of people (which includes moi, hehe), who impose on others to buy them as a pet. And why not? If it satisfies their self-image. Their virtual self-image.

We live in a virtual world. Some live in a virtual life. Someday we will all be robots.

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Honestly, I still don’t get FFS. And as of this writing, my worth is $22M. Shameful compared to my $400M friend. So does that mean I’m unpopular? I don’t think so. I’m priceless simply. My real worth cannot be translated to numbers.

Anyone who wants to add this friggin’ bastard on Facebook? It’s orleans.joel@yahoo.com. And oh, I almost forgot. Buy me as your pet.

A Short Greeting

MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE!

Ha! I know it’s just the first day of the ninth month but for us Filipinos, it’s the first signal that Christmas is just around the corner. I’ve written here exactly a year ago about our unique habit of celebrating Christmas right on the very day “Ber” hits our calendars. So, allow me to be one of the first persons to greet you my dearest friends.

I also would want to take this opportunity to apologize to you guys. Been productive lately with tons of school work and Facebook-ing (Vajarl/JCCaduldulan, I know you feel with me. hehe), cutting my precious time posting blog-worthy entries and visiting your wonderful blogs my dear friends. Please bear with me. Also, please pray for yours truly to graduate on time! School’s a extremely fun but it’s so damn suffocating. Good thing there’s Christmas. Whoopee!

Aren’t you guys excited? Don’t ask me because it’s sure obvious. Spread the love!

Chestnuts roasting on an open fire. Jack Frost nipping at your nose…

UPDATED: Four-Point Plan for a Successful Miss Universe Campaign

Ever wonder why Filipinos love beauty pageants? From the smallest barrio to the most prestigious competitions, from girls to guys to the in-betweens, from humans to animals and even lechon, believe me, walang pinalalampas ang Pinoy. However, recent years have shown that our dearest country isn’t having much luck on the most celebrated beauty contest in the world, the Miss Universe Beauty Pageant. So, trying to break the black drought, I propose four simple ways on how to have a successful Miss U campaign:

1. Naturalization of Venezuelans, Puerto Ricans, Brazilians, etc.

Admit it, but the competition has an obvious fetish for Latina beauties. Don't agree? Check Wikipedia. In our case, finding Latina-looking Filipinas could be a great option but when scarcity prevails, let the law take charge. We have a whole lot of Brazilians thriving in our country so make use of them!

2. Mandatory online voting for the Miss Photogenic Award.

One evident sign of the lack of unity in this lovely country is our failure to bag the highly coveted Miss Photogenic award for two consecutive years. That’s TWO CONSECUTIVE years of dearth preceded by a legendary THREE-PEAT. Common guys, make those fingers working! If we couldn’t make it in the top 15, then at least we are assured of a special award. Added exposure is very important.

3. Do it the Miriam way!

Now this goes to the delegate herself. Hold your head up high, toddle on the catwalk as if you’re a ghost floating on air and throw a banana peel you secretly hid behind your sash. Make sure to step on it. Then do the Miriam Quiambao move! See to it that you stand up as graceful as possible and at the end extend your arms to the crowd as if you’re saying “There you go, folks!” Two Miss USAs did it and it proved effective on them so why not give it a try? Audience impact din yon.

4. Use the ever reliable interpreter.

I know we Filipinos are very adept with using the international language, but just for this special event, let's pretend otherwise. For obvious reasons,it will benefit our representative big time. She will have ample time to think and give a very good answer as the question will be posed on her twice. Strategy!

Someday, the Philippines will conquer the universe.

Father or Brother?

[Note: Long, religious post ahead. Hope you read it still.]

“I want to be a priest” I said. My closest friends stared at me in wide-eyed disbelief, eyebrows angled at 90°, and after doing a couple of somersaults, told me encouragingly, “Utot mo!!”

Their reaction did not take me by surprise, really. If you’re someone close to me, you’d know that I am anything but priestly. I only hear the gospel during the first Friday mass at school or during Christmas Eve. I don’t pray the rosary. And I only knew my Bible stories because of Flying House.

But it doesn’t mean that I am a man of little faith. In fact, I am a man with a lot of faith. And my self-imposed recollection in my room last Holy Week just magnified every bit of faith I have in my soul. I realized that God almost always gives me what I pray for. It’s my turn now to give back the glory and serve Him on a higher level.

That’s when the idea of priesthood entered my mind. Only with one big dilemma: I’m not sure if I can live up to a celibate life. I want to have a family of my own, of course.

Now that’s when the idea of converting my religion from Catholicsm to Born Again Christianity came into view. “If I can’t be Father Joel, then better be Brother Joel” I said to myself. And being surrounded by a lot of Christian friends, I somehow have the gist on how it is to be in their group.

I religiously followed Bo Sanchez’s blog, listened to Hillsongs music, and started reading the Bible by heart. For a time, I somehow thought I wanted to be a true Christian.

Then one day, one of my friends told me to read a particular book written by a Christian pastor. Interested, I obliged. I was enjoying reading the first few pages of the book, but for a certain reason, I felt the urge not to continue.

What I don’t like (not that I hate it) about some Christians is they sometimes try to impose on others that what they believe in is right. That the other religions are spreading falsehood among their men. That their OWN interpretation of the Bible is the RIGHT one and should be the one to believe in.

I know I’m not the right person to talk about religion but I can’t help but feel disconcerted. It’s not only an attack to my religion, but a personal attack on me, as well as the other followers of my religion.

Now please, don’t get me wrong, I’m not planning to start World War III here. Kristiyano ka man o Iglesya o kahit pagano, nire-respeto kita. I just want to get my message across: We all believe in ONE God. In the end it’s not about who’s got the better religion because there is NO such thing. This is not about religion. This is about FAITH. And faith is not something you impose on others. It’s something you find for yourself. Something you find IN yourself.

So what now, Father or Brother? I still don’t know. So help me God.

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