Post-Merry Christmas and pre-Happy New Year greetings: MMFF sucks

It's a post-Merry Christmas and a pre-Happy New Year, and all I wish to say is how Filipinos' taste in films sucks. Proof: the Metro Manila Film Festival 2012. 

In my entire mature existence, I don't ever recall going to the MMFF to watch a entry. As in NEVER. Not even when I'm still too young to remember because I am sure, even my parents won't take me to watch such films. 

I don't mean to sound self-righteous but tell me? What is there to learn in this year's entries like Sisterakas, Si Agimat, si Enteng Kabisote, at si Ako, One More Try, etc., especially culturally? 

Tell me. Does the Filipinos these films portray are actually who we are as Filipinos: overly dramatized, fantasy escapists, and just plain cheap? These bunch of MMFF movies for the last like what, five years, only intend to sell. Box office hit. That's the only thing that actually seem to matter these days. Sell.  

And then there's Thy Womb directed by award-winning Brillante Ma Mendoza, starring the equally award-winning actress Nora Aunor. (P.S. The film is also already award-winning harvesting recognition from various international film festivals abroad.) 

Thy Womb is the first MMFF entry that I cared about and actually want to watch. The film, for your info, was initially rejected by MMFF committee. Perhaps, they deemed it too independent and out-of-the-box(office hit) to actually be shown along its contemporaries (except maybe for El Presidente, a historical film). But made it to the 2012 list only because the supposedly eighth entry did not finish in time. If bad luck would have it. 

So moments after I decided to line up for Thy Womb (if there will ever be a line) came the results of the awards. Sadly, the the Best Picture Award did not go to Thy Womb even if it rightfully deserved it. So how come foreigners appreciated the film and the Filipino MMFF jurors did not? You f*cking ask them. 

The winners, Best Picture: One More Try: 2nd Best Picture: El Presidente; and 3rd Best Picture: Sisterakas. Congratulations, I mean it. 

Congratulations for once again setting a bad taste for Filipinos. For proving that commercialism, capitalism and consumerism flourishes in this country.  

Let's ignore our marginalized brothers and sisters like the Badjao whom Thy Womb portrayed. Let's forget our history that El Presidente remembered. Goodbye to our identity, culture and heritage. 

Maybe, everything is really just a matter of taste. I was never one to patronize such. I just can't wait for Cinemalaya 2013. 

***
"Kahit kaunti lamang ang manood sa mga pelikula ko, patuloy pa rin akong gagawa ng makabuluhang pelikula. Maski ako ang mag-produce." --Nora Aunor, MMFF 2012 Best Actress 

Gray skies

"You are an artist if you see the beauty in things"--read one post I randomly encountered in Facebook. 

I am not saying that that basis is enough to determine one as an artist. But what is true is that I am one to always see the beauty in the simplest and most ignored things. I just do. 

One day last week, I was on a cab on my way to another coverage for the lifestyle pages of our newspaper. I was going to one of Makati City's five-star hotels. 

As customary, the route I asked the cab to take was the one passing by Bonifacio Global City (BGC). The way that connected to the McKinley Road, which passed by the heritage Forbes (taxi drivers pronounce this as For-bes) Village, and exited straight to EDSA and Makati Ave. intersection. 

Anyways, road directions bores me. Haha!

What actually amused me was how it was a gloomy day, the skies were cast gray, and the rising BGC skyline stood still in time. 

The towering babels, no matter how proud they looked, could not overcome the rawness of the moment. It was nature having a hand on things, on me. 

Though it didn't seem that it was about to rain hard, few trickles softly touched the glass window. How I wanted those to feel those trickles touch my face. 

***

And just when I thought my reverie was over, here came the acacia trees-line McKinley Road inside the Forbes. 

And by gods, I believe mystery itself came down to cease the hundred-year-old trees. The canopy of the majestic trees hover above the car, and there was mist forming. The ancient mansions loom on both sides of the road. And again, time stood still. It was history right there and then. Just surreal. 

***

The world indeed, is beautiful. 

Highway

Let me tell you of the loneliest road trip of my life. 

It happened when the man I love most was sitting and sleeping beside me inside a cramped car, and yet, despite the closeness, I knew that he was about to go some where far away. And I dreaded the thought the most. 

But I couldn't help but think of it. We still had some more time together. Like now. It was dawn then. It was dawn. And the car was keeping a steady and speedy phase. The highway was clean, few cars either passed us by, or was already up ahead of us on the long road. 

I was seated next to the right door and window, meaning he was seating at my left. Note that I had the right view. 

Meanwhile, his dad was the one steering the wheel and beside him was his mom. We were on our way for a week-long vacation. My excitement was vanishing. 

I felt his warmth beside me, but I did not look at him. I was only looking outside the window and everything was gray. The leaves of the sporadic trees lined up along the road were dull. Green was my favorite color, but not that time. The the lampposts, the soil, the grass, the rice fields, the mountains far beyond were all gloomy. 

Were dawns supposed to be that tragic? You knew the darkness of the night was over and yet, were was the light?

That moment of searching seemed to reflect what was brewing inside me. Were was my happiness? Wasn't this heavy man, whose weight was upon me, supposed to bring me happiness? 

And for the first time ever, I realized he was bringing me loneliness. He was leaving me for another country, a different life. I would be left here. He was bound there. And what would happen to us? 

Questions. Doubts. Fear. These flooded my mind. Why did fate chose to pull us apart? I was tormenting. And the absence of life on the road and the view was intensifying everything. And it just kept stretching on and on, the south-bound super highway. 

Suddenly, I just wanted to hold him tight. So I faced him. 

And what I saw was beyond me or him. It was beyond everything. It was the break of dawn. There was the light. It was with him all along. 

The sun was but a tiny spec on the horizon but it was already brightly orange-lit. The sky on his side was starting to get infected by the blaze. Crimson shades were starting to further out. And the vibrant light was seeping into the leaves of the trees giving it a lovely glow. 

There was so much color already and in no time, my side of the horizon will be reached as well. 

I rested my head on his shoulder to wonder some more on this beautiful thing. Sometimes, one only needed a change of perspective. 

An Open Letter to JC Abueg

An open letter to the man...
...that shows me kindness;
offers me trust;
gives me happiness;
completes my life;
loves me, and I love back.
This letter is for the man named JC Abueg, solely for him. Only, I am letting you, and everybody else, read it as well. Because, I want the world to know how much I love him. Just so he knows how much I am truly proud of him.

Dear Mahal, 

Happy first anniversary. Just saying it makes me smile. :) One year--such a small digit but it already means a lot to me, and I know, to you as well. 

So much so that I don't even know where to begin with! I wish there's some kind of chronological order for explaining things like falling in love that I can follow. 

But there's none. So I will follow my heart instead. 

And the first thing it says is: I love you. 

I love you. 

Saying that feels enough already. I could already end this letter! Kidding! I won't coz that's boring (especially for your other readers). ;)

*** The second thing that comes to my mind is: Thank you. 

Thank you for everything! And everything means EVERYTHING! The kisses, the touches, the hugs, and, sorry but I have to stop there! :P 

Thank you also for your kindness, for the trust, for your efforts, and for including me in your lifelong plans. 

Thank you for always thinking of me. I know you always think of me. 

Thanks because you still miss me as if you just went to a faraway land yesterday. Your longing for me does not wane, rather it seems to intensify the longer we spend time "not together." And I think that is good. I don't want us getting very at ease with distance. 

Also, when you were still here in the country, thank you for donwloading films for me. Nobody does that for me anymore. Thank you for being my food and coffee buddy. Thank you for bringing me to movie dates. Thank you for sitting beside me when Walking Dead gets really scary! Thank you for liking my little cats (please stop getting jealous with Dylan the Great already!). I look forward to all of these stuffs again, when you get back. 

With that, thank you for all the memories, and the others yet to come. In time, Mahal. 

Thank you for understanding me when I get so moody and just stupidly angry over petty maters. By now, you would know that I am the master of exaggeration. When I see a little fault, I always want to make it big. I don't know why I do that. I also don't want to do that anymore. But I keep on doing it still. So really! Thank you for stretching your thread of patience a little more, and a little more, all the time!

Thank you for your loyalty and stick to one attitude. Guys like you are a rarity. So, be sure to never change that OK? Or else! You know what will happen. 

And just thank you for your immeasurable love for me. 

***
That's the happy part of this letter because unfortunately, there is a "not so happy" part.

And it begins with my wish for us to keep strong. I know things sometimes feel easier than we expected but harder times are ahead us. It can't be helped. You are there, and I am here. 

There are temptations, misunderstandings, unbearable longings, and worst of all, actually growing apart. 

Let us never let that happen. Let's promise each other that when everything seems to be falling apart, we'll work harder to fix the broken parts, and work even harder to catch one another. 

Also, I also want to share to you how lately, people are showing me that second chances are possible. So if ever we do something horrible to each other, we forgive. We open our hearts and minds. And we believe in our love. 

***
I wish you all the best wherever you are, here or in the US, or other countries even. But believe me when I say that the secret to success is to dream. Sounds too idealist, but a person who dreams is a person who lives. So I hope you dream Mahal. Dream to become something, someone. Dreams are very important. 

And of course, do your hardest to achieve that dream. I am just always here to support you. 

Don't forget too that if you're feeling down there in that foreign land, family, friends and others are missing you here in the Philippines. I hope you continue to share to me whatever problems you are having there. I'll always listen and give the meanest advice. Hahaha! You know me!

And believe me, I still don't plan on living there. I reminded you about dreams earlier, so let me remind you that my dreams are grounded here in our country. Para kay Inang Bayan.

People can think all they want that I'll follow you there, but I won't. You have no other choice but to get back here. 

***
Many do not believe in long distance relationships. I can't blame them, really. I might even agree at some point. 

But what I actually believe in--more than the relationship--is you. I believe you. 

Happy first year. May this be the beginning of forever. 


Yours truly/XOXO, 


Eula/Euden/Den

"Bill"

It was late, close to 11 in the evening when I boarded the jeepney, the last public utility vehicle I had to take before I got home. It's a 10- to 15-minute ride considering the time. There were barely any people, and therefore less vehicles on the road, meaning no more traffic. 

I took my seat. There were a few people inside the jeepney. The driver was much in hurry to fill up with passengers so he took off right after I was settled. 

On my one side is a mother and son, the boy perhaps in high school already, and then on the other, is a guy I didn't spare time to look closely at. In front of me is a college student, beside this guy is two more guys. Farther away is a lola, with baskets of what's left of her paninda. 

But what caught my attention was the two guys, seated in front of the mother and son. One of the two is maybe a few years younger than me. Seating closely beside him is what seemed to me a boy. He really looks young. 

Their closeness bothered me. Their shoulders were stuck together. And I looked at them wondering if they were somehow related. The older guy surely became aware of my presence and immediately, he caressed the knee of the young boy. 

I was sure he wanted me to know. 

And then, they suddenly seemed more animated, comfortable with the people they were with. They were talking, they were fooling around. And I bet the other passengers were getting the picture. 

At one point, I looked closely and listened to the speeches of the younger boy, I realized he isn't really that young anymore. He talked and he knew what he was talking about. His looks were totally deceiving. Young, innocent, a pretty boy. 

No wonder the older gay--who by now you would have realized was gay--was into him. 

See, don't get me wrong. I do not discriminate or disagree with gay relationships. I don't give a fuck if they fuck. As long as they do me no harm to me. In this case, they weren't really doing me any harm. So, I let them be. 

Only, I just really observe too much. 

And it didn't escape my eyes when the gay one handed a bill to the pretty boy, which he immediately pocketed. 

And I couldn't help but pity all the gay people in the world who pay, literally, to get their desires, or worse, to find the love that they don't deserve. 

***

This is the beginning my new blog series that will immortalize how I see the world. I still don't have a name for this. Everything is just so vague yet. It will be a work in progress. Thank you friends for sparing me. 

Back in Boracay

I was back in the lovely and lively island of Boracay, for the fourth time, in two years, all for work. Now don't kill me. ;)

I am one lucky lass. Thanks to my lifestyle editor here at The Manila Times. She is the kindest editor you can ever ask for. 

So I packed my things; I traveled air, sea and land; I slinged a borrowed DSLR; and I once again conquered Boracay. 

For this trip, there was less swimming, partying and drinking, and more working. But, it was still very special since it was my first time to carry a bulky camera and shoot. And it was the best part of the trip.

Through that learning experience, I think I saw a "clear picture" of the the island's people, sand, shore, waves, sun, and everything in between. The beauty that made it Boracay.

I am no professional photographer, but I will be someday.

My only hope is for you to enjoy my simple and learning photo series entitled "Back in Boracay." Because I was back, and they, had their backs on me.

Between the lines.

Left and right.

Young onlookers

Buddies

Left alone

Onwards

Painter

'Potted Potter’: The joke is on Harry

For a Potterhead like me, seeing anything that has something do with the epic tale of Harry Potter will always be personal. After all, most of my growing up revolved around this "boy who lived." (And if you knew that it was from the evil plot of He-Who-Must-Be-Named that Harry lived, then we are probably on the same boat. Good!)

So to sit inside the Carlos P. Romulo Auditorium of the RCBC Tower in Makati City for the opening night of Potted Potter, The Unauthorized Harry Experience—A Parody by Dan and Jeff, is a must. 

Also, we Potter fans could be quite obsessed, even long after the book and film series ended. I admit I still follow the lives of J.K. Rowling, Daniel Radcliffe and Emma Watson. Do you think so too, Yana Dotarot (my little sister who was my date for the night)? 

Sisters. Say "Hi!" to my pretty little date. ;)

But I was surprised to realize that Potted Potter left no room for bittersweet nostalgia, even after successfully condensing and reviewing all seven books into only 70-minute+ show. I found myself literally laughing from beginning 'til ending of the parody. 

A little backgrounder first. Potted Potter was created by Daniel Clarkson and Jefferson Turner in 2005 only as a five-minute parody for fans waiting the release of the sixth Harry Potter book at a London bookshop. Maybe it was magic thereafter because the show then grew into a full-length stage production. It was first seen at the Edinburgh Fringe Festival 2006.

From that humble beginning, Potted Potter has now toured internationally--and continues to do so--with sold-out seasons at Adelaide, Melbourne, London, Toronto, New York, New Zealand, and finally Manila!

Delighting Filipino Potter fans, Potted Potter toured here for a very limited season of 10 shows from August 28 to September 2. 

If you are a Potterhead and you did not catch it, awwww, I'm so sorry for you. But if you are not a fan and you were able to watch it, you did the right thing! You now have all the reasons to start reading the books, and watching movie marathons.

Now off the show. Being one of the first audience to the parody, I immediately realized why Potted Potter is winning the hearts of many. It is witty, candid and very hilarious—thanks to the only two comedians slash actors. Never underestimate the power of two, namely British Jesse Briton and Irish Gary Trainor.

Gary and Jesse. These two have pretty hilarious tricks up their sleeves! Never a boring moment.

Waiting for the show to start, Jesse roamed around the auditorium and talked to plenty of kids—kids at heart included. Meanwhile, Gary sat silently on the stage while deeply immersed in a Harry Potter book. This immediately hinted the comedians’ characters.

Jesse was the livelier of the two, at many moments almost crazy since he was even laughing at himself. He was everyone’s source of LOLs especially with his habit of making fun of Gary. But I wouldn't underrate the significance of the serious Potter geek Gary, for without him, I’m sure Jesse would totally lose it.

Without giving away too much—especially for the benefit of those who will watch Potted Potter upon return to Manila—I would only tell that the show hilariously journeyed everyone back to Harry’s adventures, better yet misadventures. I will not divulge details.

Basta, from book one to book seven, major characters, memorable duels, sad deaths, kissing scenes, fire-breathing dragons, and many more magical events were rehashed, and nothing was ever serious, believe me. However, the interesting part of it all, was that many parts did felt true, despite the jokes weaved into it. Which made writers Clarkson and Turners really adept about Harry Potter.

Also, when you think Boracay, Eraserheads and Ateneo have completely nothing to do with the boy wizard, well think again. Apparently, they all had in Potted Potter, earning loud cheers from the audience.

The highlight of the show was the Quidditch match. Yes, we played Quidditch sans the broomsticks. How it happened? You’ll just have to wait for Potted Potter and see for yourself. 

Enter the "ber" in Baguio

Yes. As if a good sign, I officially welcomed the beginning of the most-awaited Filipino "ber" months in Baguio! 

Well, nothing significant really, but it's just nice to begin September out-of-town right? Hahaha! Ang babaw, pero masaya lang e!

Plus, it was only an overnight stay (Sept. first and second) for an assignment as a lifestyle reporter. But hey, I must say that I really enjoyed it. We went partying and drinking, and it felt such a long time since I last did thus. So it was FUN!

Oh, P.S., with due professionalism, I followed the infamous rule "Work hard, party harder." *beams*

Anyways, I'm still building the feature story for our newspaper The Manila Times, but here is a feel of what transpired in Baguio (stayed in Baguio). *winks*

1. The look. For the love of layering! I always loved Baguio coz it's never wrong to wear leggings here! :D With proper lighting, my leggings that day was green! Love it!

2. The fog. Immediately greeting us a cold night and day. Perfect. We are definitely at the right place. 

3. The hotel. I was there for the opening of Forest Lodge at Camp John Hay. I say it was neat, and seriously affordable! Go stay there if you're off to Baguio. I promise, quality meets value for money. 

(Clockwise from left) The double room; the view from the balcony is full of pine trees, so Baguio; the vintage ceiling; and one of the sculpture displays worth P65,000

4. The food. These food we had for lunch courtesy of The Manor's Chef Billy King. Good food from the good-looking chef. Fitting!

5. The company. Last but not the least, my media buddies for the trip. Thanks guys,  you were awesome!

Silent film: A new and old cinematic experience

Last Friday and Saturday, I devoted to a new and old--right at the same time--cinematic experience! How's that possible? Silent films.

Together with my bestest gal friends, I watched three silent films (of the total six films from six different nations) part of the 6th International Silent Film Festival held annually at the Shangri-La Plaza Cineplex. 

(For deeper understanding of the film fest, read my published story for The Manila Times here: http://www.manilatimes.net/index.php/life-and-times/29430-silent-film-fest-creates-buzz-over-old-cinema)

A new experience because it was my first time to watch silents films screened with live musical accompaniment, and an old experience in a literal sense that those films were really old, circa 1920s-1930s. Could you imagine that? Only three decades after the cinematographe was invented by the French Lumiere brothers. 

The three films were Germany's Metropolis (1927), Spain's La Casa De La Troya (1925) and Japan's I Was Born, But... (1932). BTW, the silent film fest was dubbed by the organizers as the only one of its kind in Asia.

Kim and I watched Metropolis on Friday night, the opening of the four-day festival. At the brochure, Metropolis was summarized thus: 

It was techno-based Rubber Inc. group that played the live musical  scoring. 

I thought the film was, of course, great. It had all the reasons to be recognized as one of Germany's most epic film. Director Fritz Lang did a good recreating a visual grandeur of the novel written by no less than his wife Thea Von Harbou (though the couple broke up afterwards because of certain political issues). 

The futuristic science-fiction posed question on politics and power, social classes, faith, war and peace, and love! That the mediator between the head and the hands should be the heart. It was really a wow! 

And, thankfully, the film was preserved so well that most of it was in HD! It also had lots of effects and it made one wonder how the heck did they do that before! Pretty awesome indeed!

The only not-so-nice comment I could give was that it became kind of hard for me to mix a very old film with a very modern music. I don't say that techno music can't score silent films though, maybe the real problem was that the scoring overpowered the film at times.

And then, the following day, it was Julie and mine's time to watch the two silent films showing for the day. 

The first one was La Casa De La Troya. Here's the gist of the movie: 

The live musical accompaniment came from artist Ignacio Plaza and Filipino jazz band Sinosikat?. 

This film was really long. Close to 3 hours, only because the subtitles were showed in full screen shots. Also, proof that director Lugin enjoyed putting his words on the film (he was the author of the novel it was based) was that trivial matters like "taking out letter from the box" was also explained. I could already clearly see that, OK?

Well, that he made the film a novel, or that was really the style for Spanish films those times? Either way, the result today was that the film was kind of dragging. 

And oh! It was a love story. And love story, is either fairy tale or tragedy. Thankfully, it was a happy ending! You waited that long and then a tragic ending? No way!

As for the musical scoring, I didn't know if we were just too close to the musicians and therefore I was so aware of them, or if the scoring was also a bit overpowering...

Last and definitely not the least was I Was Born, But... directed by late, great Japanese director Yasujiro Ozu. The film was described:

Of the three films, this was the one I truly enjoyed. Mostly because of Filipino seasoned reggae band Tropical Depression that scored it. They did such a commendable job proving how musically adept they are. From the first three notes they hit, I totally forgot that the music was live. 

It was so natural, and it blended well to the naturalness of the film itself. Both film and music spoke of Japanese life portrayed by a family with a middle-class working father, an ordinary housewife, and two boys who dreams of becoming someone.

As Julie pointed it out, it was the "children's candidness" that made her smile through the 93-minute duration of the film. 

It was very simple and yet so full of lessons. Dream. Be yourself. And accept and embrace life.

In conclusion, it was definitely good to stay away from the mainstream cinema, but in a way still appreciate it because you retrace its roots in silent films. 

I condemn plagiarists

I am FULLY aware that there are no laws covering plagiarism in blogs, BUT please, if you are going to copy words from this post and paste it somewhere else, it would be very SIMPLE to add "taken from passionsavessoul.blogspot.com." 

Because to us writers, copy-pasting verbatim without citing the source is a sinful act equivalent to plagiarism! And I don't f*cking care if this is JUST a blog and there are no law that copyrights my blog, BUT these are my words and I shed thinking and effort formulating these. 

So please. Cite me. Because there is a thing we call ethics. It exists with or without the law because it's a moral thing. If that is too much for you to handle, then at least show a little courtesy, or wait! Better yet, RESPECT to the writer, or even the blogger. 

So that's my message to you Atty. Hector A. Villacorta, the chief of Sen. Tito Sotto's staff, partly responsible for copy-pasting Sarah Pope's blog. You are too full of yourself. You make it appear as if it's very much OK to copy and paste someone else's words without giving him/her credit. 

You know law and whatever, but you do not know your morals and values.

***

The topic is very sensitive to me, of course, being a writer (blogger and a full-time journalist). 

But, I just can't take it how Sen. Sotto and his staff had acted upon the revelation of the copy-pasting they did. OK, for the benefit of the law, I will not call it plagiarism. They're only lucky the thing they copy-pasted was not printed or copyrighted. 

When I was just in college (I finished Journalism from the Polytechnic University of the Philippines), it was already made clear to me NEVER to plagiarize. We were thought to paraphrase. If we'll directly quote, then cite the source. 

Now, writing for a newspaper, I practice what I learned from college, not just because my editors will kill me. But also because, I know, it is the right thing to do. 

Citing sources is an old practice in writing for print. And plagiarism is a taboo. 

What, because the world is advancing, the technology quickly changing, and the Internet making everything available to everyone, we are allowed to skip this na? 

Well. That. Is. Not. An. Excuse.

P.S. I do know that there are plenty of bloggers, who ONLY copy-paste press releases, and don't actually write. Yon, pwede mo ikalat and i-share all you want. 

But this matter is a completely different story. It's always different when it's something you personally wrote. Always. It's like a child. You treasure it.  

I can't hate rain

It had been raining continuously for the past nine days already. And it had successfully taken its toll on me. As I made my way to office earlier, I frowned at the wet, darkened concrete; I relented at the cold and moist wind that stuck my skin; and I was miserable than ever looking at the empty faces of people.

There was too much gloom! And too much gloom, always, brought too much retrospection.

I did realize something useful though. And perhaps, I got a little thankful for the rain. 

I was not the writer I used to be before.

It was the truth and it did hurt me. But, let's just say that missing my old reliable writer self was even worse than the hurt itself!

Haaaay....

I missed the time when I would write for my blog regularly. Before, I was always brimming with ideas, opinions and beliefs. But more than the ideas, opinions and beliefs, I always found the right words to express myself.

Now, I still think about important matters... Sometimes I would formulate a good topic. But in the end, the lack of time, the lack of supporting thoughts, the laziness, and every other excuses I could conjure, hindered me.

And the story passes away. It got buried in the membranes of my brain, together with other forsaken stories. I bet I already had a cemetery of dead tales by now.

Haaaayayay....

But, I did found a solution! Thank heavens! And, it was simple!

That I'd keep things personal.

Yes, that was how everything started right? I opened myself for the world to see, rather to read. And I guess it's about time that I return to my comfort zone.

Which is "I". :D

So therefore, I never really hated the rains.

I would start again. I would commune with myself again. I would open up myself again. All through writing.

Welcome me back. I would write again!

Though, I must admit this blog entry itself was already a struggle! Visiting some of my favorite blogs that I used to frequent before did help though! I was spared a little inspiration!

But I would write again. And you--yes you!--would be reading about me again, whether you like it or not.

Bayan muna

Minsan ang sarap sabihing "Lintik ka Amerika." 


Hindi ko kasi maintindihan kung bakit maraming Pilipino ang naakit sa "greener pastures" mo. Nagpupunta sila dyan, nagtatrabaho para sa iyo. Nagbabayad ng tax mo. Sumusunod sa mga batas mo. Nag-iingles at nagkakaroon ng "American accent." Tapos uuwi dito sa Pinas, maganda na ang buhay nila. Nagmamataas. Nagmamayabang. Pilipino ka ba talaga? (Hindi ko nilalahat, pero aminin na natin, may katotohanan ang naturing kong iyan.)


Subukan nga nating ikumpara ang Amerika sa Pilipinas . . . Baka sakaling malinawan ang isip ko. 


Dito sa Pilipinas, kaka-onti ang trabaho. Maswerte kung mag-invest ang Amerika at magbukas ng factory ng Forever 21, katulad ng mga iba pang factory ng mga signature clothes mula sa bansa nila. Maraming blue-collared jobs ang magbubukas. Pero bakit dito? Mas mura ang labor sa Tsina, at mas maraming tao sa Tsina. 


At kung sakaling may trabaho ang isang regular na mamayan, ang sweldo naman nya hindi sapat sa pamilya nya. Nagpapakapagod, nagpapakahirap, pero kulang pa rin ang lahat. 


Tapos dito rin sa bansa, ang mga manggagawang nagbabayad ng tax, nakikinabang ba sa tax nila? Maraming kwestyon tulad ng bakit hanggang ngayon nakatiwangwang pa ang kalsadang proyekto ng alkalde mo? 


At higit sa lahat, sino nga naman bang gugustuhin dito sa Pilipinas kung isa ito sa mga bansang may pinaka-corrupt na gobyerno sa mundo. Impeachment trial ay circus! Tangna, kanya-kanyang pagmamalinis. Sino ba sa inyo ang hindi nagnakaw at nakinabang sa kaban ng bayan. Alam kong mayroon pang malilinis, pero hanggang kailan kaya sila hindi mababahiran ng dungis...


Pero, huwag din natin kalimutan na dito sa Pinas, ang teleserye paulit-ulit ang istorya (patay na, buhay pala). Ang mga aktres at aktor, nagsasapakan. Ang mapupulot sa PBB Teens ay ewan. 


Kaya naman pala! Bakit hindi tayong lahat magpunta sa Amerika? Kayo na lang siguro. Pero hindi ako. 


Hindi ako pupunta sa Amerika, o sa ibang bansa, na ang iniisip ko lang ay ang kapakanan ko. Tangna, kaya nga ako pinanganak na Pilipino e. Ibig sabihin, ang pananagutan ko ay sa bansa ko. 


Dito lang ako kung saan dapat magsikap, dapat magbayad ng tax, dapat magmatyag sa gobyerno, at hindi dapat manood ng PBB.


Dito ako sa Pilipinas. Magsusulat ng ganito. Maaring pagtawanan ninyo ako. 


Pero malaki ang pasasalamat ko sa mga bayani nating nakipaglaban para sa kalayaan natin? Sa lahat ng Pilipinong sumalungat sa Katolikong simbahan. Sa lahat ng Pilipinong tinalikuran ang Amerika. Sa lahat ng Pilipinong nagbuwis ng dugo sa kamay ng mga Hapon. Sa mga matatapang na Pilipinong ipinaglaban ang bansang ito. 


Paano ko ba to sasabihin, korni oo, pero pinagmamalaki ko ang bansang ito. Ipinagpapasalamat ko ang 114 taon ng kalayaang tinatamasa natin. Isinasapuso ko ang pagka-Pilipino ko. Atsaka, it's more fun in the Philippines diba?!


Simpleng paalala lang ito para sa lahat ng kapwa ko, kahit nandito ka o sa dayuhang lupain man, wag mong kalimutang Pilipino ka. Wag kang sakim. Magbayad sa bayang nagluwal sayo, maliit o malaki. Siguro kung lahat ng Pilipino, may kahit kakapiranggot na commitment kay Perlas ng Silangan . . . 


Naniniwala akong ang "commitment" na iyan ang pag-asa ng bawat isa sa atin--hindi si Willie o si Pacman. 


Pero teka! Hindi ako yong moralistang preacher na tinutukoy ng kaibigan ko. Puro salita (o sa akin puro sulat) lang, walang gawa. May pangarap po ako para sa bayan ko. :) Sana po, magawa ko, pagsisikapan ko.


***
"Una ang Panginoon. Pangalawa ang bayan. Pangatlo ang pamilya. At huli ang sarili."


Ang pinakamahalagang aral na natutunan ko Mababang Paaralan ng Taguig. Sa guro ko na nagbigkas nyan, salamat po. 


Maligayang Araw ng Kalayaan Bayan ko!


p.s. Buti pa si Google, hindi nakalimot. 

Proud to be fun, fun to be proud

Originality is only a matter of how one makes something his own.

I was taught years ago that if I want to write, I should first read good works/writings of authors that I like and then try to copy their styles, as long as in the process, I could develop my own style.

And weird enough, it worked for me. I realized what I wanted and what I didn't. I found out how I would send my message across (research/facts as legs, positivism as body, criticism/idealism as arms, and humor as the pretty face that catches attention, haha!).

So to all those writing styles that influenced me and I copied, I could say that by now, I had made it my own. 

Basically, that explains my definition of "original" that best describes my stand on the issue about the 2012 Department of Tourism (DOT) campaign slogan "It's more fun in the Philippines." 

This was what happened: 

The 2012 DOT campaign "It's more fun in the Philippines" was launched early last Friday (Jan.6) under the leadership of new Secretary Ramon Jimenez. 

This was made known to me when I opened Twitter and saw that #itsmorefuninthephilippines was already trending BIG. 

Filipinos, and even foreigners, had something to share why it's more fun in the Philippines—most pointing out "food, hospitality, travel destinations" and many more (uplifting and even absurd). 

From this alone, I already felt the optimism revolving around the campaign. It gave Filipinos the chance to promote the country in their own little ways, with the help of the Internet and technology. It’s a simple but very catchy idea that gives everyone the freedom and creativity to think what makes it more fun in the Philippines in their own ways. 

An article written by Maria Ressa for Rappler.com that I read has all the sensible details you need to know. Especially Secretary Jimenez's "conviction" and how "crowdsourcing" and "social networks" will be the campaign's tools. 

However, just hours after the official launch, a picture from 1951 saying "It's more fun in Switzerland" also went viral in the Internet. Considering how the 2011 DOT campaign "Pilipinas Kay Ganda" was criticized for being a copycat of a Poland logo, many became cynical. Even our paper The Manila Times went with a banner story "Department of Tourism bungles branding anew". 

Well, if you judge a book by its cover, most definitely you'll see that the "coincidence" (as Sec. Jimenez defended it) as lack of originality.

Sec. Jimenez immediately tweeted "No one can own the expression "it's more fun" but it's very true for the#Philippines so it becomes ours. #ItsMoreFunInThePhilippines" and "The line isn't a manufactured slogan. It's simply the truth about our country. Don't be swayed by people who are trying to punch holes in it".

I agree. What makes Switzerland fun is totally different as to what makes the Philippines fun. 

Isn’t drinking Red Horse (RH) beer from dusk till dawn with barkada the most fun here? Isn’t partying at whitesand Boracay the most fun here? Isn’t Ilocano food with names Puki-Puki and Kabatiti the most fun here? Isn’t a Filipino’s smile the most fun (and beautiful)? 

So many fun and original things only here at the Philippines! So many fun and original things only we Pinoys could offer! 

So quoting Sec. Jimenez again, "The national line is a goal, a constant reminder to ourselves why we can tell travelers it’s more fun here than anywhere else. It needs everyone’s support for it to stay true—we need to make sure people’s experiences in our country are positive, enjoyable, and most of all, fun.” 

Our country is unique and special in many ways that we seem to forget. The 6-word phrase is a challenge to prove and defend this. Or even better, it wants us to be proud of ourselves again.