Pandemonium made itself tangible here on earth. The sea, which at a time became human’s close friend making its shore a constant destination of those who’d want to while their time, seemed to have been angered by some despicable and unforgivable offense turning out to be man’s worst enemy of the moment.

When the water receded for 200 meters, it was supposed to warn the people of the catastrophic incident that would ensue. But what else could be more amazing than seeing a boat float on the sand while just minutes ago, it was still on water? Indeed, it could have been the perfect picture of a lifetime had it not turn out to be the most deadly of all.

Minutes later, walls of water started to surge past through the shore, cottages, houses, hotels, cars, and roads. Colossal waves hitting every corner near the sea devouring every human lives it could get past to. Cars were tossed to the sea as if they were just light objects. Buildings were swept away by the waters and some walls crumble into pieces. Thus, making humans scramble in the waves with the debris.

There was utter chaos in the vicinity and everyone was desperate to save his own life. There were wailing and screaming, those of relatives who have lost a close kin in an instant, friends losing friends, mothers, losing their children, young children losing their siblings.

It was hell.

Moments later, Mother Nature embraced calmness. But that is not to leave the earth untainted. For the once placid and welcoming sea had turned out into a morgue in an instant. On the shore, people would wade into the waters with splayed corpses strewn all over. In the lands, those who escaped death were either groaning in pain, shouting for missing loved ones, or weeping for the dead.  The sea made its point - a rather definite one - leaving the Earth an immeasurable damage.

The news reached the rest of the world. News people were fast to pick on the details. Voracious news networks feasted on the aftermath. For the moment, these places became a spotlight of every news program. But just like any news coverage, the only consolation we get is that at least we hear a very few relevant information out of a 24-hour take. Because as further issues build up, lesser and lesser substance are contained in their report.

In Thammasat (a hospital where Thailand survivors were housed), at least 3 people attempted to commit suicide. None of them made headlines. Obviously, they were much too insignificant to be given attention. The ‘audience’ would rather love to see Kofi Anan’s stunned face. The expression might be genuine, I know. But what the hell is it for?

Larger figures were pledged. The digits go by the nines. But now that the cameras start to drift away, are the people getting the promised aid? Or are those pledges just another lip service?  

Hmmm… I’m still watching, though.

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In my hometown, a disastrous storm is no new news. A portion of the town is submerged in water each time a storm pays its yearly visit in the area, particularly the farm area. Each time the storm strikes, these people are compelled to leave their homes for safer grounds. To the knowledge of all, a farm inundated spells NO CROPS for the season. Such is the fate of these people in that Sitio. Floods seem to be a part of their lives. They grew up to that yearly experience. So, they never blamed the government of their situation. There’s no reason, it seems, to turn to the government for finger pointing, anyway. But how would they feel if they see a hefty budget allotted for the town’s calamity?

(I was trying to avoid writing on this one but I got inspired of Father Maier’s story last Sunday that I finally decided to have my thoughts gone public on this one. I’m choosing not to write what he said though for fear that he’d get deported by the officials here lest they find out about what he’s preaching:) He’s just much too precious to lose:))

The children probably made their own marbles: dads helped. Then the kids would throw the wet clay balls into their mom’s cooking fire. Maybe even when their moms weren’t looking. Street kids. Jesus playing marbles with His Mom watching. My guess is that they were street kids, but that was a long time ago and I’m partial. Maybe children from the neighborhood, maybe shepherd children, and maybe, just maybe, had we been there: you and I. Playing marbles with Jesus. For fun -  the pure joy of playing.

Our Miss Soey, she’s almost seven, plays marbles. She asked me if Jesus might come to the Slums, to her kindergarten, and then they could play marbles together at recess. And Soey’s best friend Miss Ann could play, and even one of the older seven year old Aids boys, as long as he wasn’t naughty. Miss Soey’s doing 3^rd kindergarten over again this year. She’s better at “doing her sums” although it gets difficult when she runs out of fingers and toes to count on.

Miss Soey’s eyesight isn’t the best and, she sees pretty clear up to an arm’s length, so at recess time, when they play marbles, Ann takes over “long distance.” Everyday Ann repeats to Soey the Marble rules, because Soey forgets a lot, and then she cries till Ann whoomps her: “No Soey. The rule is this or that,” and then all is okay again. With Ann helping sometimes they win, but even then, not very often. And Soey wanted to know if Jesus was a good marble player, and I said “Maybe.” Soey grinned.

Soey is so pretty she breaks your heart. Pretty in her own 7 year old way – waiting for her front teeth to grow in. Her hair and combs don’t go together and she spills about everything on her blouse. She grins when you tell her you love her and she’s the only kid in the house of 43 girls that the new puppy dog cuddles up to. She can’t understand why “slammer” rules keep her mom locked up. And when things go bump in the dark and no mom to hold her, she can’t stop the tears. That’s when she asks… when Jesus was scared would His Mom hold him and make the fear go away. We try to be mom and dad to Soey. But it’s never the same, is it?

Soey said she would let Jesus hold her favorite Teddy Bear, but just for a while, because Teddy helps her go to sleep. And if you ask Miss Soey what are her dreams, they are that the whole world could play marbles – for the pure joy of playing.

It’s Christmas. And for me, and I’m sure for you, if you look closely, blink a couple of times and rub your eyes – in Miss Soey and all the children – we see the Face of God, runny nose and all.

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Written by Father Joe Maier, an Irish-American priest famous for his works in the slums of Klong Toey, Thailand. Aside from being a priest, he’s an executive of a European company. Surely, he has every means to stay in a mansion. But no. He chooses to live right in the middle of the slums where the AIDS victims are housed in the neighborhood.

He’s much too good to emulate about. But I hope I could be just half the character that is him. I’ve written a great deal about his stories and homilies but they’d always end up in the archive as I fear that I might paint him wrongly. Makes me wish all the time that I had been a better writer.

I don’t know how this fares to you. But it moved me when I first read it. It still does. I’ve been to an AIDS hospice and it’s not easy looking at those people struggling with the virus. Believe me, it’s even more sad looking at them laughing.

I remember father Joe telling us a story of an 8-year old girl last year whose mother died of AIDS. A few days after, her friend, a 7-year old, also lost her mom to the same fate. Both feeling helpless and sad, they managed to pray together for their moms to meet up so they’d have each other as a companion in their journey to heaven.

Two little girls on an intimate prayer, robbed of their right to be with their moms by the deadly virus, what else could be more emotional than just hearing their story?  

This has been the reason why I’ve been absent in the cyberworld for so long. Been out almost every night joining the caroling since November 26 (though I had to make 10 absences as I had been attacked by my allergy – hives). I don’t mind looking like a beggar in those mansions we troll carols in. I just want to help out. All our proceeds will go to the slums which we will be handing over to father Maier on Sunday. We’ll be singing carols to each of the slum corners there. We’ll be singing carols to the AIDS patients as well. It’s gonna break my heart again, I know. But I'm sure I’d be doing good to those people. This is my Christmas gift to them. And to myself as well.

Merry Christmas everyone!!! 

(In random order. Huh! Now, you’d have an idea how my thoughts hop from one thing to the other)

1. acquarian
2. lean
3. neither tall nor short
4. long and straight hair
5. fair
6. iskolar ng bayan (UP loved me so much!)
7. attempted to like coffee but ended up abhorring it
8. doesn’t have a specific preference on colors
9. word obsessed
10. used not to eat ice cream
11. a light weight:(
12. quick on numbers …. Ahem!
13. loves figures
14. likes philosophy
15. loves learning languages
16. hmmm. Jack of all trades
17. thinks quickly
18. hates to dawdle in advocating my ideas
19. loves to dawdle on any physical chore
20. used to join the chess tourney
21. loves music
22. but no specific artist to point out when asked
23. a soprano
24. can sing only up to some reachable notes (err… am I making sense?)
25. plays a little of guitar
26. loves babies
27. loves the smell of babies
28. loves my nephews and nieces
29. easy to get along with
30. kaladkarin (well, used to be)
31. hard to wake up
32. loves seeing filled inboxes
33. loves hosting:) (I’d rather host a party than do the number)
34. types fast (somehow I get the hunch that I was a stenographer in my past lives)
35. not open in trying new foods
36. can eat the same viand for a week or two
37. beginning to value the importance of fruits
38. dysmenorrheic
39. normally drinks four glasses of water in one mealtime (I know, I know it’s not healthy….)
40. hates the sound of mortar and pestle (that Burmese neighbor surely needs a push outside of the flat)
41. hates those dummies who pretend to know some ideas which they apparently do not
42. is beginning to be more understandable of people who can’t use words the proper way
43. easily gets blisters
44. emulates those with really brilliant ideas
45. likes Yasser  Arafat
46. watches Filipino movies and promotes them (bagong buwan and the likes surely deserves the accolade)
47. loves being ogled
48. got extremely disappointed when Bush got the plurality of votes
49. got even more disappointed when that mole assumed office
50. joined the rally on the impeachment trial
51. felt a pang of guilt amidst everyone’s claps in the dorm when erap left the palace
52. dreams of going back to business when i’m more able
53. tries hard to learn programming
54. a stalker… haha. Wicked!
55. was amazed to find out that warlock is a male witch:)
56. loves my parents, siblings and everyone in my immediate family
57. sensitive…
58. easy to be miffed
59. spelled reign as rain back in my first year in high school… and English was my fave subject:)
60. has math for a gift
61. can listen to a personal story for hours
62. can’t afford to do only one thing
63. has a memory whose speed is hundred folds faster than my fingers. Damn! (egsaj of course:))
64. weak recall on human names and friends’ details
65. forgets easily
66. always forgets the English word for singaw. (oddly enough, I always forget the term each time I get one… just like right now. oh, now I’m informed. It’s canker sore)
67. treasures friends
68. one of those few who don’t own a cellphone right now. (hmmm. I’m saving up for that 7200 model in future park)
69. would rather use a headset than a speaker when using my pc
70. has a great adulation on my previous boss
71. cried in front of my high school classmates and got embarrassed
72. made an out of the country trip even after just two days of being hospitalized
73. a workaholic
74. loves singing
75. doesn’t like Jennifer Gardner in resident evil
76. likes the aura of Natalie Portman
77. wishes to have met mother Theresa
78. definitely a righty
79. buys a lot of blouses and disposes them as easily
80. loves the feel of the sunset at the back of our house in iloilo
81. loves watching spooky movies alone
82. loves the feel of near death fear on Vikings
83. finished 4 books in one night
84. a dictionary buff
85. gets scared on a twisting of a knob
86. a mere dud could kill me (not parallel it seems:))
87. listens to everyone’s stories
88. watched mission impossible II without understanding a thing:)
89. almost fell off from our window when I made that rib bending attempt to get that datiles fruit that’s near my reach (or so I thought)
90. writes freely (no formal training eh)
91. avoids stepping on lines
92. assigns numbers to people
93. gets happy when trudging the steps in multiples of 7, 11, and 13 (huh! Einstein’s flairs pale :))
94. makes quick mental notes on peoples’ errors
95. a nitpicker (the silent one:))
96. hates prowlers (who doesn’t)
97. throws up on gory scenes
98. gets hooked on a good montage
99. chuckles on anything that reminds me of that three stooges series
100. a most disorganized thinker

Hah! After weeks of hibernating, here I am making a hurried entry. I just needed to chronicle this one. Fast and quick.

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I'm overwhelmed. No, that's an understatement. Ok. Pick your own word.... yeah. That's exactly what I feel.

I call her Marie. The third of the three siblings. One of my nieces. I was in first year college when she was born. Rosy skin, curly eyelashes, the family's nose:), red lips. Just a perfect clone of her elder sister. Who wouldn’t have loved that little angel? But I was so lucky that by the time she was born, all of our other girl siblings had their own families that I was the one left who could be considered as the second mother of that adorable tiny creature. Thus, I declared her to be my baby the moment I saw her.

She ranked two in her class when I was there. It’s a sad thing though that she had to slide to number 7 when I left. My sis told me she’s been spending nights of crying since I left. I didn’t try to call her since then. I couldn’t.  I will just miss her more.

She’s new in her school. She was rank 7 in the second grade entrance exam. Her cousin Poy (which is also my niece) expectedly topped it (she’s a natural quick in numbers. She even beats her grades 4 and 5 boy cousins in arithmetic speed!). 

Come July, Poy, obviously the brightest in the class (ahem. Where else are they taking their genes from? haha), was summoned by their teacher to choose between math and science quizzes to join in (ahem. Just like me again. Haha. Well, in elementary years at least. I enrolled in a science school in high school where all the rest of my classmates were first and second honors of their respective schools so, the genius had to lie low. Sour-graping. Allow me to wallow in my old sentiments. I’m obviously bloating today. I’m plain happy).  Naturally, she had to choose math. Marie was in a corner.  Probably waiting to be called in for that vacant science slot. At last, the teacher (pakunswelo siguro) asked her if she’ll represent the class in the singing contest. And being the shy type that she is, she didn’t accept it.

While her cousin was burning lamps for the big day, she sat with her mom asking this: “Ma, are you happy with me? I’m not as smart as Poy” (this was, of course, only retold to me). My heart wanted to reach out to her and hug her for that. Just to make her feel that’s she’s still GREAT sans those glaring contests she wanted to join. She’s very sweet. She’s the type of whom you’ll never get angry at. I remember going ‘home’ (their house; UP is in the suburb) in the city twice a week just to see her. She was just a baby then. Now, at 7 (grade II), she’s joining the contest.

On the contest day (Poy’s contest), she was envious of the accolade and attention Poy was getting when she had to linger on stage for those 4 tie-breaking questions (of which she eventually lost as she forgot to put the unit. Oh, yes. Same errors as mine). Right there, she said yes to join the singing contest. Today is her third level. She hurdled that contestant from a family of singers and that other one who’s the former champion. All belonging to higher grades. 

Now, I just got the news that she bagged the gold medal for the city meet. I know, the contestants usually come from either grade 5 or 6. I have a hunch that her being the youngest and the smallest is an extra point. haha.

So, next will be the integrated meet or the provincial meet. All I want to do now is to get a booking for home. I really wanna see her on stage. Sigh.

Anyway, congratulations, Marie. I love you, baby. Tita’s so proud of you.

This was written the second Sunday before last.

You lose friends and you find some. Between the two is a deep and intense feeling of wistfulness when you’re under the transition. For some people, they’d choose to isolate themselves and wallow on the friendship they once had. For some, they’d rather go out and reach out to other people. I’m glad I’m now choosing the latter.

I have to admit that in my first year of stay here, I was being me. The fastidious-and-so-hard-to-reach-out me. I had a constant friend - of whom I found out to be as communal as the friends I once had when I was still open for most of them  - but most of the time, I’d stay in my shell. Practically, I was existing alone in this community.

I mourn about the friendship I once guard and of which I lost from the distance that keeps me apart from them. But to keep my clock ticking, I knew I had to bend my ways and allow other people to have the chance to know me and give myself that break of knowing other God’s creations.

This I have to confess. My spiritual belief of the Supreme Being was hanging by the thread when I first joined the group (SFC). I was intellectualizing things and I’d get disappointed when I don’t get a straight answer to a simple question my mind boggles. I was in dire need of spiritual alleviation – no, I was beyond salvage from a pit of spiritual emptiness. So, I convinced myself to join the group to find answers to my questions. No, I didn’t find them in an instant. But as I grew along with the peers I’ve met, I have come to see things in a different perspective. But I’m not gonna elaborate them here.

So, today I freed myself from that zone and experienced the greatest realizations I’ve had in years.

Since it is the birthday of one of our members, Maureen, we opted for a bowl (the sports; or is it proper to use the term?) at the mall nearest our area.  Naturally, I was scared to try the game. I had several chances of playing the sports since high school but I’d always decline as I was fearing that I might not have that gigantic and heavy ball roll till the end of the lane. But I tried it today, anyway. Hah! No, I’m not going to show you my scores. I still have some pride to preserve my dignity for showing that piece of paper. And here’s one of the comments that surfaced among the shouts I hear while swinging the ball, btw. “Ann, magmodel ka na lang ng shampoo!”. Hehe. Yeah, it’s that terribleJ

To Maureen, Jhozine, Lyn, Ben, and Melai, your friendship is much appreciated. Thanks for the companionship you offered. And I thank God above all for making me experience that day and the weekend in Bang Suan that I just had.

Been trying to stop myself from posting this one for the fear that my blog would be classified as one of the sentimental ones but I promise this will be the last. J

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You are who you have become. You worry about your attitude reflected on other people. But no, there’s nothing wrong with you. ‘Cause you’re a mere human. That however tough you might appear to others, you still have that vulnerability a child possesses. Yes, you’re not super. And THAT IS OKAY.

Drenched by all of life’s unbiasedness, you manage to go by the cycle of dusk and dawn. People might criticize your every move but that’s not your problem. Those are the ones who should look on themselves first before grabbing on the time to look at you. But you know you need to mingle with this ‘other’ people. And so you try to bend your character.

But try as you might to live within the fringes of other people’s norms, you always end up not privy to their being thereby finding yourself in one corner at the end of the day. Thus, you come to abhor people’s shortcomings and fail to acknowledge yours that cause their attitude towards you.

But you still try hard to please those people of whom you have great adulation about. That again proves you’re normal.

College days had been almost the same as the one you spend now. It was then that you became fully conscious of the smugness you impose on other people (or you were just too boastful to be aware of such) that you were sure to be on a leveled intellectual status among your peers.

Perhaps the arrogance was too tangible for your concealing that even the teachers felt your ‘air’. The minute they started stringing your moves, your every question had been an anticipated episode in a class mongering - even among your teachers. Every “heated” argument became a favorite topic of all.

But people just misunderstood you.

You looked at those pundits with great admiration for an anticipated thorough discussion of the obscure things that clogged your understanding. Had you posted a puzzling and a sassy query, it was never to obliterate a clear topic nor steal the spot from the one in front but to put to light an idea that had been shrouded by mist. But how else can you deal with that to an intimidated teacher but a blithe gesture of dismissal?

Ah. But that is too much of an explanation. Yes, you get tired now as you used to get tired on issues as these.

And, so you were branded as the coldest student in campus in its most negative connotation.

Again, you try hard to win back the admiration of your teachers. Too late, they’ve already formed an opinion of you. Unless of course, you’ll be spewing blood all over just to demonstrate the point.

Now, you’re up to that predicament… again. You speak so little and you are aloof. You speak more than little and you’re heady and high minded. So where do you stand? (That heady and high minded had long been settled, btw.)

Yes, perhaps the cliché that goes ‘It is only in the understanding that you learn to forgive people’ is a sure line for you. You have berated yourself over and over of that piece of thought. But until when can you stand stopping yourself from correcting ‘yourself’ to other people and suspend unhealthy attitude of always overtly retracting every comment you make lest you might offend someone else again? Will people ever understand you? Or have they ever tried understanding the person that is you?

Why does it seem like everyone else’s standard is too lofty for your kind? Or are you just born to be a perpetual outlier?

Ah, now you’ve been worrying too much!

Thanks to Oscar for lending me Umberto Eco’s blurb splattered novelJ

Workshop was a…. so-so. Ok, yeah it was tiring but you know what, I enjoyed the pressure. I can’t tell why. Perhaps it’s the idea of putting yourself to so much use that ups the adrenaline.

Come dinner time, I had a subtle invitation to join the company of one of the participants but I just had to ignore the move. Two of my officemates were there so dealing with such in the middle of the workshop’s dinner function would not be wise.

The night was great except for the three birds who perched on my table. So, I was left with nothing to do but listen to the chirping my entire dinner time.

Today’s schedule was quite busy. After the workshop, I had to attend my French class at 5:30-7. But our dinner starts at 6:30 so I had to go out at 6:25 and go home to change. KD and Tintin were playing badminton in front of our building when I arrived so I stopped a while to drop them a minute of petty conversation.

Me: Hi guys! Having some fun?

KD: Why are you dressed like that?

Me: Why?

KD: It’s too formal for an office suit.

Me: Ahh. I had to. We’re having a workshop till Friday. Why, what’s wrong with this?

KD: You look… delicious.

Erm…What exactly does he mean by that? Could a 17 year old speak of a delicious word in the context an adult would?

The other day, I was in a water dispenser in the café filling my glasses when a-guy-who-looks-like-a-Latino-and-who-doesn’t-seem-to-be-so-with-his-accent came to my side and filled an obviously used glass.

Latino-like-guy: Sawasdee Khap!

Me: Sawasdee kha.

LLG: How are you? (Until now, I still can’t figure out why people use that greeting when they’re not even willing to hear a curt response).

Me: Fine.

LLG: Rather a hot day, isn’t it?

Whatever he meant by that.

I had to exit.