These past few days, I have encountered certain "communication" issues which, I personally believe, could have been handled a little better had personalities and attitudes didn't get in the way. But for people who are so used to "speaking their minds" and blurting out whatever they feel or think each time, this is certainly difficult. Thus, trouble usually results especially if someone's fragile ego gets hurt.
Here are some lessons I learned along the way, albeit the "hard" way.
"Listen, not to what is being said, but to what is NOT being said." The manner by which something is being said usually has an underlying reason. In short, someone may just be having bad day. He/she could be feeling sick, is mourning the passing of a loved one, or is simply frazzled about the distribution of relief goods. This is what you do: take a minute and understand the context of the unpleasant retort you just got. Even with your own bruised feelings, you can exhibit the utmost good faith and not think too badly of the person. You may be in a better position to exercise patience and understanding. Even when the person continues to rant, rave and ramble, take the higher moral ground and don't dignify the insults.
By no means should you resort to name-calling, cursing and sarcastic talk-back.
"Stick to the issue, and don't go historical or come up with sweeping conclusions." If it's really necessary to engage in a discussion, try to be objective and logical. High emotion only derails dialogue. As the saying goes, "forgive and forget" but that only works if things have truly been resolved. Hence, it is important not to mix things up; respond point-by-point, but avoid generalizations. I believe that is the only fair and just thing for everyone.
"The truth hurts". Certainly, the truth can really be "ugly" especially if one is faced with it quite bluntly. One has no choice but to grin and bear it. It is also the best policy to accept one's failures and weaknesses graciously, and...apologize if you must. There is no shame, only honor in it.
Yes, we all have the freedom of expression, but with every right comes a great responsibility..and that is to prevent unnecessary grief or damage. We must remember that there is always a way to keep the exchange from getting too "pedestrian" and vulgar for everyone's taste.
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
R-Rts' Lesbian Calligraphy
Rainbow Rights Project (R-Rights), Inc. would like to invite you to its latest Dyke Dialogues, "Lesbian Calligraphy: a Forum on Philippine Lesbian Literature and Erotica". It will be held at the Bernal Gallery, UP Film Institute, Diliman, QC from 1-5PM, on November 7, 2009, Saturday .
UP Sappho founder Libay Linsangan-Cantor will give an overview on Philippine Lesbian Literature, while freelance writer Roda Novenario will share some insights on erotica and pornograpy. There will also be a legal discussion on pornography and censorship by R-Rights' Germaine Leonin.
Hope to see you there!
UP Sappho founder Libay Linsangan-Cantor will give an overview on Philippine Lesbian Literature, while freelance writer Roda Novenario will share some insights on erotica and pornograpy. There will also be a legal discussion on pornography and censorship by R-Rights' Germaine Leonin.
Hope to see you there!
Monday, October 12, 2009
Lessons from the Past
With all these disasters and calamities happening lately, I remember that as a schoolkid these pieces of news become part of current events which you must take note of as well.
But speaking of lessons, didn't we all learn something about science and history along the way? Why are we so surprised that we feel betrayed by our environment?
A few years ago, a fellow named Felino Palafox already pointed out the inevitable flooding of some areas near Pasig River and Laguna Lake because time will come, rainwater had nowhere to go. Another science geek named Dr. Kelvin Rodolfo, who is more popularly known for the Pinatubo Volcano "aftermath" studies, also had a research going on land subsidence and worsening floods along northern Manila Bay. The government was duly warned, but changing administrations never had the political will to safeguard the environment and temper urban development with an awareness of nature.
I only have to look to my youth to remember lessons from the past. The area in front of Quezon Institute, where Puregold now stands, use to have a sea of kang-kongs all year round. Yes, it was a virtual swampland and for good reason; that was where water went everytime it rained. Besides Puregold, I now see a mini eco-forest in the frontage of QI. I wonder what it does for residents in the area everytime it rains nowadays...
Having gone to UP Los Banos for university in the late 1980s, I always marveled at the green mountains of Makiling then. By the time I left in 1990, subdivisions were sprouting everywhere in Laguna. Whole mountainsides were carved into by developers for hot spring resorts or residential villages.Trees were chopped off indiscriminately. It came as no surprise when the national highway near Los Banos bayan would have an occasional landslide very now and then.
Now, I am told the municipalities of Rizal and Laguna where I did my undergraduate thesis on "Integrated Farming" are still submerged in knee-deep floods. The areas of Paete, Pangil, Pakil, etc. had the privilege of a lake which naturally irrigated their ricefields with its regular rising tides. It also allowed them to have fishponds as alternate sources of livelihood. Up in the forested hills, the people had fruit-bearing trees for additional income. From Los Banos to Lumban, Laguna Lake has now reclaimed what it rightfully owned.
Up north, Bulacan and Pampanga's flooding was also expected. Regardless of the rivers and dams it hosts, the area has the Candaba Swamp, a historically low-lying area. (My father used to tell us stories of having hid from the Japanese soldiers by staying in the swamps for days on end. For a time, he had us wondering why he hated watermelon and galunggong so much. But he merely replied that it reminded him of his guerilla days in the marshes.)
In Pangasinan, towns whose economies depended on bangus farming, naturally got flooded. Fishponds located on similar marshland areas such as Dagupan, would expectedly overflow with heavy rainfall. Let us not forget that there is also the mighty Agno River, a major tributary which traverses the length of Pangasinan.
Already Lingayen and Dagupan experienced some changes in its topography following the Big Quake in 1991. La Union's coastline itself changed, with the beaches of Bauang, Agoo and San Fernando "shortening", thereby forcing beach resorts and fishing communities to adjust their beach frontages accordingly.
I guess people living in similar situations would now need to do the same thing for themselves. As it is often said, "Nature finds a way", so maybe so should people.
But speaking of lessons, didn't we all learn something about science and history along the way? Why are we so surprised that we feel betrayed by our environment?
A few years ago, a fellow named Felino Palafox already pointed out the inevitable flooding of some areas near Pasig River and Laguna Lake because time will come, rainwater had nowhere to go. Another science geek named Dr. Kelvin Rodolfo, who is more popularly known for the Pinatubo Volcano "aftermath" studies, also had a research going on land subsidence and worsening floods along northern Manila Bay. The government was duly warned, but changing administrations never had the political will to safeguard the environment and temper urban development with an awareness of nature.
I only have to look to my youth to remember lessons from the past. The area in front of Quezon Institute, where Puregold now stands, use to have a sea of kang-kongs all year round. Yes, it was a virtual swampland and for good reason; that was where water went everytime it rained. Besides Puregold, I now see a mini eco-forest in the frontage of QI. I wonder what it does for residents in the area everytime it rains nowadays...
Having gone to UP Los Banos for university in the late 1980s, I always marveled at the green mountains of Makiling then. By the time I left in 1990, subdivisions were sprouting everywhere in Laguna. Whole mountainsides were carved into by developers for hot spring resorts or residential villages.Trees were chopped off indiscriminately. It came as no surprise when the national highway near Los Banos bayan would have an occasional landslide very now and then.
Now, I am told the municipalities of Rizal and Laguna where I did my undergraduate thesis on "Integrated Farming" are still submerged in knee-deep floods. The areas of Paete, Pangil, Pakil, etc. had the privilege of a lake which naturally irrigated their ricefields with its regular rising tides. It also allowed them to have fishponds as alternate sources of livelihood. Up in the forested hills, the people had fruit-bearing trees for additional income. From Los Banos to Lumban, Laguna Lake has now reclaimed what it rightfully owned.
Up north, Bulacan and Pampanga's flooding was also expected. Regardless of the rivers and dams it hosts, the area has the Candaba Swamp, a historically low-lying area. (My father used to tell us stories of having hid from the Japanese soldiers by staying in the swamps for days on end. For a time, he had us wondering why he hated watermelon and galunggong so much. But he merely replied that it reminded him of his guerilla days in the marshes.)
In Pangasinan, towns whose economies depended on bangus farming, naturally got flooded. Fishponds located on similar marshland areas such as Dagupan, would expectedly overflow with heavy rainfall. Let us not forget that there is also the mighty Agno River, a major tributary which traverses the length of Pangasinan.
Already Lingayen and Dagupan experienced some changes in its topography following the Big Quake in 1991. La Union's coastline itself changed, with the beaches of Bauang, Agoo and San Fernando "shortening", thereby forcing beach resorts and fishing communities to adjust their beach frontages accordingly.
I guess people living in similar situations would now need to do the same thing for themselves. As it is often said, "Nature finds a way", so maybe so should people.
Aftermath
Typhoons Ondoy and Pepeng have gone, but most of us still suffer from its aftermath. At least two friends from the Marikina area had to abandon the luxury of their condos and stay with their parents for a while. Two more friends from Pasig still have houses underwater and are seriously considering moving residence to Quezon City.
While I was ironically spared the floods, given that I live somewhere near Araneta Avenue which usually floods, my immediate family wasn't as lucky. My eldest brother's bungalow in Rosario, Pasig was completely submerged along with three cars. From the stories they candidly tell, they were having breakfast one moment and scrambling for their dear lives the next minute. They practically had to climb walls and jump roof to roof to get to a neighbor's 2nd-story house to save themselves. They spoke of staying in a small room, together with other "neighbor- refugees" and sharing a two-pack noodle soup with 20 other people. They are staying another week at our youngest sister's house even when the waters had already receded, since there was still mud around and my sister-in-law's foot already got infected.
Ate Rhoda wasn't the only one injured. Dra. Che, our dentist sister, braved the floods and currents of Quezon Ave and Araneta Ave to get to St. Theresa's that fateful Saturday night. She and my youngest sister, Gayle was suppose to pick up my stranded niece, Abby who had a ballet class earlier. Unfortunately, Dra. Che fell into a manhole....wait, let me correct that, she fell into one of those diggings left uncovered by either one of our beloved utility companies. We were all thankful she didn't drown, but she did bash her head on something and her bruises and deep scratches stretch from her elbow, hip to her leg and ankle.
Speaking of unattended diggings, Dra.Che isn't the only one with a beef with our utility companies who are so fond of "destroying" our streets. My cousin, Edlyn personally took to task a particular waterworks company doing consistent diggings in the Kamias area. The local government had already installed bigger pipes and canals to drain away rainwater which periodically inundate Kamias. However, with the diggings constantly going on, the dirt and sand had blocked most of the canals and probably even clogged the pipes. As such, many streets in the East Kamias area were flooded with water entering most homes which were previously safe being on high ground.
Meanwhile, another sister and I are working for DSWD. Most of our direct services staff have been deployed to help with relief work, with technical staff being asked to augment manpower. Sadly, some of our own DSWD staff were flood victims themselves, and that includes an Undersecretary. Everyone is still reeling from the devastation. While DSWD-NCR, Field Office 3 and 4-A are still busy attending to the needs of typhoon Ondoy victims, DSWD -CAR, Field Offices 1 and 2 are likewise faced with dealing with Pepeng's flood and landslide victims in their respective regions.
We have no choice but to grin and bear it. We can only rely on the characteristic resilience of Filipinos and our unique Bayanihan spirit. Maybe we shall surprise ourselves yet again with our strength and capacity to deal with change.
While I was ironically spared the floods, given that I live somewhere near Araneta Avenue which usually floods, my immediate family wasn't as lucky. My eldest brother's bungalow in Rosario, Pasig was completely submerged along with three cars. From the stories they candidly tell, they were having breakfast one moment and scrambling for their dear lives the next minute. They practically had to climb walls and jump roof to roof to get to a neighbor's 2nd-story house to save themselves. They spoke of staying in a small room, together with other "neighbor- refugees" and sharing a two-pack noodle soup with 20 other people. They are staying another week at our youngest sister's house even when the waters had already receded, since there was still mud around and my sister-in-law's foot already got infected.
Ate Rhoda wasn't the only one injured. Dra. Che, our dentist sister, braved the floods and currents of Quezon Ave and Araneta Ave to get to St. Theresa's that fateful Saturday night. She and my youngest sister, Gayle was suppose to pick up my stranded niece, Abby who had a ballet class earlier. Unfortunately, Dra. Che fell into a manhole....wait, let me correct that, she fell into one of those diggings left uncovered by either one of our beloved utility companies. We were all thankful she didn't drown, but she did bash her head on something and her bruises and deep scratches stretch from her elbow, hip to her leg and ankle.
Speaking of unattended diggings, Dra.Che isn't the only one with a beef with our utility companies who are so fond of "destroying" our streets. My cousin, Edlyn personally took to task a particular waterworks company doing consistent diggings in the Kamias area. The local government had already installed bigger pipes and canals to drain away rainwater which periodically inundate Kamias. However, with the diggings constantly going on, the dirt and sand had blocked most of the canals and probably even clogged the pipes. As such, many streets in the East Kamias area were flooded with water entering most homes which were previously safe being on high ground.
Meanwhile, another sister and I are working for DSWD. Most of our direct services staff have been deployed to help with relief work, with technical staff being asked to augment manpower. Sadly, some of our own DSWD staff were flood victims themselves, and that includes an Undersecretary. Everyone is still reeling from the devastation. While DSWD-NCR, Field Office 3 and 4-A are still busy attending to the needs of typhoon Ondoy victims, DSWD -CAR, Field Offices 1 and 2 are likewise faced with dealing with Pepeng's flood and landslide victims in their respective regions.
We have no choice but to grin and bear it. We can only rely on the characteristic resilience of Filipinos and our unique Bayanihan spirit. Maybe we shall surprise ourselves yet again with our strength and capacity to deal with change.
Waterworld
I grew up used to the annual rainy season floods. We lived in a residential area in Quezon City which was close to a creek, so naturally, we expected to be inundated regularly.
My younger sisters and I never really played in floods, unlike our older siblings and cousins who use to ride salbabidas (tire interiors) and frolic around in an expanded “public pool” in the late 60s and early 70s. Of course, the creek waters coming from as far away as Marikina were not as filled with assorted trash and garbage as they became during my time.
My sisters and I learned early on to watch out for heavy rains. At night, while everyone else was enjoying the cool weather brought about by rainfall and sleeping so soundly, we were programmed to listen to the intensity of the rainfall and to determine just how much rain has already fallen in a certain period of time. Thus, it became automatic for all of us in our household: we listened for the neighbors nearest the creeks, our dogs barking and warning us of rising waters in our garage.
We knew how to open the gates at the perfect time to keep the waters from trapping us inside our own home and before it becomes impossible to move it against the water pressure. We had to move our cars to higher ground, just a few blocks away, as soon as the water reaches half the tires and before it gets above the muffler. We also got to our dogs just in time to take them to safety lest they drown in our yard.
Inside our house, we had devised a system for raising our various furniture and electrical appliances. Mostly females, we relied on our body strength and adrenalin to put the sofa, the stove-oven, even the refrigerator on chairs or beer cases. Two-by-two we worked; one hand on the furniture and the other, to stuff something under it as quickly as possible and bring it up. Our mayordoma could even carry a whole sack of rice by herself without any help.
Besides listening to the rain, opening the gates in time, and having a system for raising household things, my father had other tips for us. Once the water level comes up to the electrical sockets, head for the fusebox and turn down the switch to prevent electrocution. It was also advisable to keep bottles of dangerous chemicals from being submerged and mixing with the water. Such contaminants could be more harmful than dirty floodwater to human skin if you’re still wading around.
Speaking of pollutants on skin, make sure you bathe and wash really well after frolicking in floodwaters. You can even use alcohol just to disinfect your body. Besides garbage and other refuse, sometimes human or animal waste floats around in the water too. Nobody wants to catch cholera or leptospirosis (that disease that comes from rat waste), much less die from it.
Floods seem inevitable in Manila, so we might as well learn to prepare for it and cope with it the best way we can. But while we can do our best to salvage whatever belongings we have, it’s our safety and well-being that should be our utmost concern always.
My younger sisters and I never really played in floods, unlike our older siblings and cousins who use to ride salbabidas (tire interiors) and frolic around in an expanded “public pool” in the late 60s and early 70s. Of course, the creek waters coming from as far away as Marikina were not as filled with assorted trash and garbage as they became during my time.
My sisters and I learned early on to watch out for heavy rains. At night, while everyone else was enjoying the cool weather brought about by rainfall and sleeping so soundly, we were programmed to listen to the intensity of the rainfall and to determine just how much rain has already fallen in a certain period of time. Thus, it became automatic for all of us in our household: we listened for the neighbors nearest the creeks, our dogs barking and warning us of rising waters in our garage.
We knew how to open the gates at the perfect time to keep the waters from trapping us inside our own home and before it becomes impossible to move it against the water pressure. We had to move our cars to higher ground, just a few blocks away, as soon as the water reaches half the tires and before it gets above the muffler. We also got to our dogs just in time to take them to safety lest they drown in our yard.
Inside our house, we had devised a system for raising our various furniture and electrical appliances. Mostly females, we relied on our body strength and adrenalin to put the sofa, the stove-oven, even the refrigerator on chairs or beer cases. Two-by-two we worked; one hand on the furniture and the other, to stuff something under it as quickly as possible and bring it up. Our mayordoma could even carry a whole sack of rice by herself without any help.
Besides listening to the rain, opening the gates in time, and having a system for raising household things, my father had other tips for us. Once the water level comes up to the electrical sockets, head for the fusebox and turn down the switch to prevent electrocution. It was also advisable to keep bottles of dangerous chemicals from being submerged and mixing with the water. Such contaminants could be more harmful than dirty floodwater to human skin if you’re still wading around.
Speaking of pollutants on skin, make sure you bathe and wash really well after frolicking in floodwaters. You can even use alcohol just to disinfect your body. Besides garbage and other refuse, sometimes human or animal waste floats around in the water too. Nobody wants to catch cholera or leptospirosis (that disease that comes from rat waste), much less die from it.
Floods seem inevitable in Manila, so we might as well learn to prepare for it and cope with it the best way we can. But while we can do our best to salvage whatever belongings we have, it’s our safety and well-being that should be our utmost concern always.
The Great Equalizer
Floods - the great equalizer, as my Dad used to say. In the Philippines, the rainy season usually brings floods in low-lying areas, typhoon or no typhoon. So both rich and poor, gather their worldly possessions, however measly, and rush to higher ground once the waterways overflow. We have come to expect such inconveniences and we prepare ourselves and adjust our daily living as best as we can. In fact, Filipinos have become so used to "surprise downpours" that umbrellas and jackets are commonly stuffed in our bags once we leave the house. We never really relied on PAGASA that much..since nobody is really that dependable when it comes to typhoons. But nothing could have prepared anyone for what happened last weekend.
I was in Naga City when typhoon Ondoy first made landfall Friday PM. I was among its first victims, as I became stranded along with other travelers in the Bicol region. There was some wind and the skies were so cloudy the planes from Manila were simply sent back. I grumbled since I was worried about not leaving Jeni some extra cash. Sure there were still some groceries in the cupboard, but I failed to give Jeni some pocket money in case of emergencies. Naturally, Jeni was upset, but we both hoped I could get a return flight by the next day.
Saturday morning, I trudged back to the Naga airport. The Mnl-Naga-Mnl flights were back to normal, but by noon it was announced that our flight out would be delayed. We were told the planes could not leave Mnl since it was zero visibility due to heavy rains. I was part of the crowd that groaned in exasperation. We didn't realize what Manila residents were going through already. It wasn't until one of the passengers started laughing that it all dawned on us - he got a text message from a friend who took a land-trip the day before and that friend was stranded somewhere in Laguna because of floods.
I was texting Jeni since I knew our area in Araneta Avenue always flooded. I hoped she went home early after her call center shift. But true Jeni-fashion, she didn't; and instead, attended her team-building activity (read: drinking spree) somewhere in España. As such, she had to deal with the flood waters which were already rising to dangerous levels. Her last text to me at around 1:30PM was that she was somewhere near Araneta Ave at a waiting shed, soaked to the bone. She said she had to "wade" in floodwaters almost reaching up to a person's shoulders. Ok, that wasn't wading..that was swimming! And Jeni is by no means exceptionally "tall"...she's only 5 ft. for God's sake! And I shouldn't panic?! :( She would tell me later that a whole bus was submerged near Puregold - Araneta. Of course, she was still upset with me for pushing through with this trip. And I could understand why she would hate me now. Jeni doesn't really like thunderstorms and she has trouble sleeping when I am not around.
I started texting my family and friends as well. My family lives in the Kamias area which usually floods. At around 2PM, they said they were fine and they were more worried about me. They told me not to push through with my flight since it was dangerous. I had to tell them later my flight was eventually cancelled anyway. Both my sister and cousin fortunately have high, four-wheel drive vehicles, but they were unable to deal with the heavy traffic in the surrounding areas. They couldn't go near Katipunan or Quezon Ave. so my two nieces were stranded at Miriam College and St. Theresa's, respectively. All this time, I didn't know my eldest brother and his family in Pasig were in more dire straits. Their bungalow was located in Rosario and their house was submerged in floodwaters even before lunch.
At this point, celfone signals were getting quirky already. Also, flooded areas have since lost electricity because MERALCO prudently shut power to prevent accidental electrocutions. I went back to the hotel and watched the news. The information was very sketchy; government agencies seemed clueless at what to do next. I went out to look for an internet cafe to get better insights on Manila's floods. Nothing useful except making some lucky contacts with those who were safe and sound in their own homes.
Times like these, survival instincts make us watch out for our own safety first. But after securing ourselves, we begin to wonder about the people we love. We frantically try to contact family members and friends to check on their welfare. Times like these, we begin to realize what is important - not our cars, not our laptops, not even our celfones except to find out about our loved ones. For the rich and the poor, it's not material things that matter anymore, but people's lives.
I was in Naga City when typhoon Ondoy first made landfall Friday PM. I was among its first victims, as I became stranded along with other travelers in the Bicol region. There was some wind and the skies were so cloudy the planes from Manila were simply sent back. I grumbled since I was worried about not leaving Jeni some extra cash. Sure there were still some groceries in the cupboard, but I failed to give Jeni some pocket money in case of emergencies. Naturally, Jeni was upset, but we both hoped I could get a return flight by the next day.
Saturday morning, I trudged back to the Naga airport. The Mnl-Naga-Mnl flights were back to normal, but by noon it was announced that our flight out would be delayed. We were told the planes could not leave Mnl since it was zero visibility due to heavy rains. I was part of the crowd that groaned in exasperation. We didn't realize what Manila residents were going through already. It wasn't until one of the passengers started laughing that it all dawned on us - he got a text message from a friend who took a land-trip the day before and that friend was stranded somewhere in Laguna because of floods.
I was texting Jeni since I knew our area in Araneta Avenue always flooded. I hoped she went home early after her call center shift. But true Jeni-fashion, she didn't; and instead, attended her team-building activity (read: drinking spree) somewhere in España. As such, she had to deal with the flood waters which were already rising to dangerous levels. Her last text to me at around 1:30PM was that she was somewhere near Araneta Ave at a waiting shed, soaked to the bone. She said she had to "wade" in floodwaters almost reaching up to a person's shoulders. Ok, that wasn't wading..that was swimming! And Jeni is by no means exceptionally "tall"...she's only 5 ft. for God's sake! And I shouldn't panic?! :( She would tell me later that a whole bus was submerged near Puregold - Araneta. Of course, she was still upset with me for pushing through with this trip. And I could understand why she would hate me now. Jeni doesn't really like thunderstorms and she has trouble sleeping when I am not around.
I started texting my family and friends as well. My family lives in the Kamias area which usually floods. At around 2PM, they said they were fine and they were more worried about me. They told me not to push through with my flight since it was dangerous. I had to tell them later my flight was eventually cancelled anyway. Both my sister and cousin fortunately have high, four-wheel drive vehicles, but they were unable to deal with the heavy traffic in the surrounding areas. They couldn't go near Katipunan or Quezon Ave. so my two nieces were stranded at Miriam College and St. Theresa's, respectively. All this time, I didn't know my eldest brother and his family in Pasig were in more dire straits. Their bungalow was located in Rosario and their house was submerged in floodwaters even before lunch.
At this point, celfone signals were getting quirky already. Also, flooded areas have since lost electricity because MERALCO prudently shut power to prevent accidental electrocutions. I went back to the hotel and watched the news. The information was very sketchy; government agencies seemed clueless at what to do next. I went out to look for an internet cafe to get better insights on Manila's floods. Nothing useful except making some lucky contacts with those who were safe and sound in their own homes.
Times like these, survival instincts make us watch out for our own safety first. But after securing ourselves, we begin to wonder about the people we love. We frantically try to contact family members and friends to check on their welfare. Times like these, we begin to realize what is important - not our cars, not our laptops, not even our celfones except to find out about our loved ones. For the rich and the poor, it's not material things that matter anymore, but people's lives.
Stories
I have always been fond of short stories. When I was first introduced to the fiction genre in high school, I began to cultivate an affinity for the brief and concise presentation of simple plots. Never mind that occasionally I had to endure a novella or novellete as classroom reading; I wanted it “short and sweet”. After I had exhausted the required reading for English literature class, I turned to my family library and found a classic O’Henry collection, “The Chapparal Prince and other Stories”, as well as a four-volume Guy Mauppasant compilation. But while I enjoyed similar stories by John Galsworthy (“Quality”), James Thurber (Scarlet Ibis”) and James Joyce (Araby”), I had a penchant for Edgar Allan Poe’s dark and mysterious writing. As such, stories like “A Rose for Emily” and “A Cask of Amontillado” were my favorites.
In college, my weekends in Los Banos were also spent reading. My Villareal cousins had an Edgar Allan Poe anthology in their library, so after going through compulsory readings of “The Good Earth” and “Love in the Time of Cholera”, I devoured Poe’s “The Tell-tale Heart”, “Curse of the Red Masque”, and The Black Cat”.
Later, I discovered Stephen King’s short story collections. The first one, “Night Shift”, included classic horror stories like “Children of the Corn”, “Silver Bullet” and “Trucks” (better known as “Maximum Overdrive”) which had all been made into Hollywood films. His other installments, “Skeleton Crew” and “Four Past Midnight” had “The Body” (which became “Stand By Me” in the movies), “Secret Window” (starring Johnny Depp as a depressed writer accused of plagiarism) and one recently released, “The Mist” about scientific experiments going wrong and affecting nature. He also wrote under the name “Richard Bachman” and came up with a four-story anthology, two of which became movies - “Thinner” and “Total Recall”, starring Arnold Schwazennagger and Sharon Stone.
Other lesser known selections by Steve King like “The Mangler” and “Word Processor of the Gods” were regularly featured in TV series such as “Tales from the Darkside”, “Twilight Zone” and “Amazing Stories”. It was because of these television shows that I became acquainted with Ray Bradbury. These shows also featured Ray Bradbury classics such as “The Wind” which was actually about a banshee tormenting a writer, and “Company”, the one about a sickly boy’s dog whom he regularly sends out to tell him about what’s going on outside, and who eventually brings home one day a new friend for the boy.
When I was cooped up at home recently, I had the opportunity to catch up on my reading again. Jeni gave me a bunch of books to keep me still and in bed for most of the week. Most of it were her own grandmother’s collections and the books’ pages were really brittle already. I didn’t realize that one of them was a classic Alfred Hitchcock – “Twelve Stories for the Late Night”. Most of the short stories were circa 1930s, 40s and 50s by highly acclaimed writers such as Ray Bradbury, Evelyn Waugh, Robert Arthur, Philip MacDonald, Frank Belknap Long, Will F. Jenkins, and John Collier. And they kept me in bed alright. I was captivated; I was in complete awe. Long before there was Stephen King, there were these writers - true masters of the craft. For indeed, with their words they were able to describe sceneries with such vision, capture images and feelings almost palpable to the senses. Their individual pieces were really works of art; they were what writing was truly about. But I am afraid this book is, by now, out of print. I doubt it if some university libraries even have a copy of it. It sold, for the first time in paperback, for a mere 50cents it says on its cover. To the lucky ones who may have this in their personal collections, treasure it...for it is truly “vintage” reading material.
In college, my weekends in Los Banos were also spent reading. My Villareal cousins had an Edgar Allan Poe anthology in their library, so after going through compulsory readings of “The Good Earth” and “Love in the Time of Cholera”, I devoured Poe’s “The Tell-tale Heart”, “Curse of the Red Masque”, and The Black Cat”.
Later, I discovered Stephen King’s short story collections. The first one, “Night Shift”, included classic horror stories like “Children of the Corn”, “Silver Bullet” and “Trucks” (better known as “Maximum Overdrive”) which had all been made into Hollywood films. His other installments, “Skeleton Crew” and “Four Past Midnight” had “The Body” (which became “Stand By Me” in the movies), “Secret Window” (starring Johnny Depp as a depressed writer accused of plagiarism) and one recently released, “The Mist” about scientific experiments going wrong and affecting nature. He also wrote under the name “Richard Bachman” and came up with a four-story anthology, two of which became movies - “Thinner” and “Total Recall”, starring Arnold Schwazennagger and Sharon Stone.
Other lesser known selections by Steve King like “The Mangler” and “Word Processor of the Gods” were regularly featured in TV series such as “Tales from the Darkside”, “Twilight Zone” and “Amazing Stories”. It was because of these television shows that I became acquainted with Ray Bradbury. These shows also featured Ray Bradbury classics such as “The Wind” which was actually about a banshee tormenting a writer, and “Company”, the one about a sickly boy’s dog whom he regularly sends out to tell him about what’s going on outside, and who eventually brings home one day a new friend for the boy.
When I was cooped up at home recently, I had the opportunity to catch up on my reading again. Jeni gave me a bunch of books to keep me still and in bed for most of the week. Most of it were her own grandmother’s collections and the books’ pages were really brittle already. I didn’t realize that one of them was a classic Alfred Hitchcock – “Twelve Stories for the Late Night”. Most of the short stories were circa 1930s, 40s and 50s by highly acclaimed writers such as Ray Bradbury, Evelyn Waugh, Robert Arthur, Philip MacDonald, Frank Belknap Long, Will F. Jenkins, and John Collier. And they kept me in bed alright. I was captivated; I was in complete awe. Long before there was Stephen King, there were these writers - true masters of the craft. For indeed, with their words they were able to describe sceneries with such vision, capture images and feelings almost palpable to the senses. Their individual pieces were really works of art; they were what writing was truly about. But I am afraid this book is, by now, out of print. I doubt it if some university libraries even have a copy of it. It sold, for the first time in paperback, for a mere 50cents it says on its cover. To the lucky ones who may have this in their personal collections, treasure it...for it is truly “vintage” reading material.
Of Girlfriends and Snoring
I was out-of-commission for a week. I had always wanted an extended weekend that I couldn’t wait for the next typhoon to hit or the next national holiday to be announced. I must’ve prayed so hard, I finally got my wish…but with dire consequences.
It all started after the Policy Analysis Training in August. After a week of blissfully cool weather up in Antipolo, I came back to a humid and polluted city air. My asthma naturally acted up and I endured it together with my allergic rhinitis for several mornings. I presumed the sniffles and coughing would all go away soon enough. By the second week, there was already phlegm in my lungs and Jeni complained my snoring at night was worse than before. I apologized for her sleepless nights and explained my clogged nose didn’t help my deviated septum any (a condition I inherited from my father). When I started feeling feverish, we both wondered if it was sinusitis already. But I should have known the cold sweats I was having in the afternoons and at night was not normal.
And then the timing of the fevers became strange. I would get them late in the afternoons until evening. The next morning, I’d still have a slightly raised temperature and would feel too sluggish. Midday, I would feel better for a couple of hours until around 4 or 5PM when I would get feverish all over again. All this time, Jeni would be waking me up in the middle of the night because my snoring was also becoming too weird for her. When before, she would be bothered by the gaps in my breathing, long periods when I seem to have stopped breathing, now it was the gasping sounds that I made. She began to panic when she noticed that I sounded like I was “drowning” one night. The very next day, she hustled me off to St. Lukes.
I was diagnosed with upper respiratory infection which was already on the brink of broncho-pneumonia. It was my fault for not paying attention to my cough even when I started feeling phlegm in my lungs. I honestly thought it was just my asthma. Malay ko ba…
I owe it all to my partner, Jeni, for noticing the slight changes in my physiological habits. I may be a horrible roommate because of my snoring, but she has learned to recognize what was ‘normal’ sleep-breathing for me. I wouldn’t know half the time since I was obviously unconscious, right? The night I seemed to be “drowning” Jeni was downstairs, having just arrived from her nightshift. I must’ve scared the hell out of her since she willingly took a leave from work the next day to accompany me to the hospital. Correction, it was by her insistence that I finally thought of consulting a doctor.
Now, the fevers are gone but I am still on antibiotics. I have an alka seltzer-type of mucolytic to dissolve the phlegm and also a decongestant-paracetamol to ensure the sniffles are controlled. And of course, there’s Jeni who must now constantly monitor my snoring for any changes in my health condition. Here’s to heroic girlfriends!
It all started after the Policy Analysis Training in August. After a week of blissfully cool weather up in Antipolo, I came back to a humid and polluted city air. My asthma naturally acted up and I endured it together with my allergic rhinitis for several mornings. I presumed the sniffles and coughing would all go away soon enough. By the second week, there was already phlegm in my lungs and Jeni complained my snoring at night was worse than before. I apologized for her sleepless nights and explained my clogged nose didn’t help my deviated septum any (a condition I inherited from my father). When I started feeling feverish, we both wondered if it was sinusitis already. But I should have known the cold sweats I was having in the afternoons and at night was not normal.
And then the timing of the fevers became strange. I would get them late in the afternoons until evening. The next morning, I’d still have a slightly raised temperature and would feel too sluggish. Midday, I would feel better for a couple of hours until around 4 or 5PM when I would get feverish all over again. All this time, Jeni would be waking me up in the middle of the night because my snoring was also becoming too weird for her. When before, she would be bothered by the gaps in my breathing, long periods when I seem to have stopped breathing, now it was the gasping sounds that I made. She began to panic when she noticed that I sounded like I was “drowning” one night. The very next day, she hustled me off to St. Lukes.
I was diagnosed with upper respiratory infection which was already on the brink of broncho-pneumonia. It was my fault for not paying attention to my cough even when I started feeling phlegm in my lungs. I honestly thought it was just my asthma. Malay ko ba…
I owe it all to my partner, Jeni, for noticing the slight changes in my physiological habits. I may be a horrible roommate because of my snoring, but she has learned to recognize what was ‘normal’ sleep-breathing for me. I wouldn’t know half the time since I was obviously unconscious, right? The night I seemed to be “drowning” Jeni was downstairs, having just arrived from her nightshift. I must’ve scared the hell out of her since she willingly took a leave from work the next day to accompany me to the hospital. Correction, it was by her insistence that I finally thought of consulting a doctor.
Now, the fevers are gone but I am still on antibiotics. I have an alka seltzer-type of mucolytic to dissolve the phlegm and also a decongestant-paracetamol to ensure the sniffles are controlled. And of course, there’s Jeni who must now constantly monitor my snoring for any changes in my health condition. Here’s to heroic girlfriends!
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