I'M SPEAKING IN ENGLISH! NOW GET OUT OF MY FACE ...ERRR...WAY!

English is surely a universal language. We, Filipinos are blessed that the language is in our educational system and being taught in school, giving us an edge over other nationalities. That's how we earned the third spot in the list of world's english speaking countries. Be it in media, academe and business world, english is the medium of instruction and communication. Koreans even leave their country for the Philippines just to study the language.

Back in my school days at LaCo, the teachers were very strict with the students that they required us to communicate with them in english. Should they hear us speaking in the vernacular, they would only send us out of the classroom. Believe it or not, my favorite subject back then was English. Same with the teachers, all of them were my favorites. But my liking to the language did not translate to high grades though. Still my grades were all average.

Funny thing is, here in the Philippines, to be articulate in english is being translated to being intelligent. If China, Japan and the US measure the intelligence of their students on their proficiency in Science and Math, here in Pinas, it's how the students understand, converse, and express themselves in English that earn them recognition and even high grades.

Not only that, english has been a tool as well in identifying as to which social status a person belongs. If a child speaks the language fluently as if it is his first language, undoubtedly his family is rich. If you hear teenage girls converse in english, the way Lindsay Lohan and Britney-hit-me-baby-one-more-time do, you will somehow conclude that they study in Assumption or Poveda or in any exclusive for girls schools only the rich can afford.
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Anyway, the reason why I'm talking about this, because, in various occasions, I had used my skill in speaking in English as my tool in rescuing myself from embarrassment or even intimidating others.

Flash back:

May 1995. It was my first time to leave for Manila. Together with my mother, we were aboard Princess of Negros ship. For some stupid reason, I lost mother in the ship, or was it the other way around? Good thing the ship was still in stationary, but ready to leave in 15 minutes as what the speaker had announced. So I was in panic. I was searching for mother anywhere inside a huge ship. I met two ladies who seemed to be well-off. I asked them in english. Not to impress them actually, but only to get their attention. I was asking where I could locate the pager so I could page mother. Then they referred me to somebody working in the ship. Still I spoke with him in english which obviously irritated him. Well, I could not blame him, aside from my voice getting shaky, i had already sabotaged my grammar. Out of nowhere: PAGING (MY NAME)! PAGING (MY NAME)! PLEASE PROCEED TO BLAH BLAH BLAH.....

Year 2000. I was looking for a job in Ortigas. My walk-in to various companies would only take me an hour or two, and I would spend the rest of the time at the Mall. Once very tired, I took a rest at Shangrila Mall's food court. I was so tired that I wanted to take a nap. And I did. Then somebody was giving me a tap on my shoulder. It was the guard. Boy bawal ang matulog dito (sleeping is not allowed here), telling me in his rude voice. Then I straigntened up, and said: I was not sleeping. I have been waiting for somebody for an hour already, that's why. Embarrassed, he just ignored me and left. I knew that I got him intimidated.

From then on, whenever I meet a guard and inquire something, if the guard looks maangas (rude), then expect me to do the first move to intimidate him - english lang ang katapat nyan! Like: I'm looking for the CR....where can I find NBS.....I'm looking for Mcdonalds...I'm looking for the cinemas. Di ba puro I'm looking ang script ko hehehe. And they will politely give me the direction, sometimes in english as well.

In 2003, I attended the press presentation of an international event (sorry can’t name it here) at the poolside of Intercon Hotel in Makati without encountering any 'security' problem. The following year, I wanted again to cover the event and photograph the delegates. I arrived at the Hotel early, and the press was not yet allowed to enter the poolside. I was not a member of the press, but with a little acting I could gatecrash. After some few hours, the guard gave us a signal that we were already allowed to go inside. I was first in line, confidently walking toward the poolside. Next to me was the Japanese press. All of a sudden: Sir san ID nyo? Press ka ba? San ang pass nyo? NaKa rigister ka ba?(Sir where’s your ID? Are you from the Press?) Oh shit! Now, time to unleash my acting talent. Pinsan ako ni Tamera! (I’m Tamera’s cousin)…. Sino si Tamera Sir? (Who is Tamera Sir?)....Yung delegate ng Pilipinas! (the country’s represenatative)… Sir suri press lang, di kayo pwidi! (Sir, sorry we can’t let you in, you are not from the press!).

Brilliant! I was asked to leave the poolside. It was only me who was denied entry. What an embarrassment. So, I was at the lobby thinking hardly of my next step. I looked around the area near the poolside, searching for a possible entrance. And I saw one. Shit! Another guard. I had to be very careful. I should enter the place unnoticed. I could not be invisible so what I did, I got my mobile phone out of my pocket, put it on my ear, and speak loudly: OH YES! I AM ALREADY HERE, JUST ON TIME. THE PROGRAM HAS NOT STARTED YET, BUT THE DELEGATES ARE ALL HERE ALREADY .....BLAH BLAH BLAH.... I was doing this as I pass by the guard. He was staring at me, but must have thought that either I was with the press or with the organizers. So there, I was able to join the event for the second time.
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Last May 2007, I had a verbal fight with the lobby guard here in our building. He refused me entrance, because I left my ID at home, so there’s nothing I could show him. My initial defense mechanism of course was to intimidate him with my english power. Sorry baby, the six foot guard was deaf to my english that he also used advantage of his size. This time my english did nothing to salvage me.
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Okay! if being good in english can intimidate some and can be used to size-up others, it has also its limitation. It can’t be of no help especially when the one you are talking with is so tall that you need to increase the volume of your voice to get heard or he’s not interested to listen to anything you want to say or worst if he’s deaf/acting deaf at all. For sure, given the said situations, your english is totally useless, so better back-off this time.

LOOK WHO'S READING.....

During the last weekend, I got so glued to Turning Angel by Greg Iles http://www.gregiles.com/, since I was scheduled to return the book to the owner come Monday (which is today).

It's not me to read a pocketbook, but this one is a suspense, and I'm one fan of suspense slash detective stories. Greg Iles was a complete stranger to me, but now he's someone I admire. An intelligent and talented writer who generously shares his gift through his books and this one is no exeption.

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Turning Angel is one page turner. Its complexity makes its reader not to settle for a pause until everything has been divulged and revealed. How the book narrates the issue on racism and its lurid touch on violence, sex and drugs surely make this book earn flak from the conservatives.

No doubt, I highly recommend this book to everyone.

LOOK GOOD FOR LESS

In the past couple of years, the word metrosexual has become a common word. A word kind of associated with football superstar David Beckham. If you are male and looks up at Beckham as somebody your model, and imitates his look, you can probably consider yourself metrosexual. The word is not really a big deal to me, but the look is. I'm no Beckham fan and I don't look up to him, only figuratively though - I’m 5’1”.

If you surf the net and find its meaning, you well get something like this: Macho man has bitten the dust. He's been replaced by something just as tough inside, but softer at the edges.

The metrosexual look is cool. Actually, it's just more on men's fashion, like the cut, color, design of the shirts and pants, and even accessories as well.

So am I metrosexual? No! Eventhough i like to have the look, my features don't allow it. I'm referring to my body frame and my built which is so light. Howevermuch, I wear shirts or pants similar to those I see on the boobtube or on prints, I still end up exactly not like one LOL. I remember buying pants with bootleg cut. The cut is so cool. Very cool, that almost every male at the mall wears the same cut. Since I am short, I had the pants altered. When it was altered, the bootleg cut part was removed and the pants never looked the same again. The bootleg jeans I bought turned into a straight cut jeans after the alteration. It was disappointing, but left me laughing.

It had sunk in me that fashion wise, I would never look like one. But I just did not stop there. What If working on my body. As I see around, Filipino men nowadays, even the teeners have really broad shoulders, toned muscles on their arms and abs. The muscles are not big like those of bodybuilders who basically put so much muscles on their chest, back, triceps and biceps.

In the second quarter of 2006, I enrolled myself in a gym near our place. I only wanted to broaden my shoulder, put a little muscle on my arms, abs, back, thighs, and calves. During the first few weeks, I was still enjoying my time in the gym. In the succeeding weeks, I realized that it's a sad place to be afterall.

The only gym equipment I used there were the treadmill, abs swing, and dumbbells. I did not aspire to lift those huge barbells, afraid of inflicting injury. My officemate who was also into gym advised me to avoid equipment which I think so heavy for my weight to avoid getting injured-internally and externally. My consolation though was the disappearance of my love handles, and my body got firm.

Another thing which I consider an irritation in the gym is the people there. The gym freaks. Those are the guys who show off what they can do inside the gym. They lift every heavy equipment. They can also be noisy, really try to get an audience. So if you are ‘weak’, you will get insecure of them. Either you will just sit at the side in silence and be their audience or compete with them in lifting all the heavy equipment to prove to them that you can give them a run of their money.

In my case, I was more concentrated on what the gym thing could give me back for the money I cashed out. I was more on the compensation and not on competing with somebody else. After three months, I decided to stop this nonsense. It was not working on me the way I had expected it. Yes, I lost the fats, but still dissatisfied.

After some months of not going to the gym, I went back to jogging every Sunday at the Makati Park. This was in the months of January and February 2007. I would wake up as early as 5:30 in the morning and walked my way to the Park, just a few blocks away from home. I would spend three hours there jogging and sometimes doing aerobics with the oldies.

Waking up so early on a Sunday was not really a good idea. I stopped my Sunday jogging, and waited for the Summer to go swimming. I’d always felt the need to get physical. In April, I discovered ULTRA swimming pool through online inquiry. Swimming is a good exercise and a good medium as well to sculpt your body. If you engage into this sport religiously, you will really get good shoulders and toned abs. Since swimming at ULTRA was so exposed to the sun, and getting burnt is the first thing you'd get before a toned body, I decided to shift to a night jogging after office.

To date, I have been doing my jogging twice a week at the ULTRA. There I meet a lot of athletes. Now, I can already distinguish the difference of an athlete's body to a gym freak's. That of an athlete's is well proportioned and toned all over, while those of a gym freak's is distributed. They have toned muscles only on the parts where they have concentrated their muscle -building or muscle-toning on. Sometimes, I get mean by laughing at those who have concentrated building their muscles on their top, and have totally forgotten their bottom. Have you seen a bullfrog? They look like one.

I have also learned, that going to a gym or simply doing exercise by yourself must have a certain program to follow. Learn your objective why you do it. Is it for body building or losing weight or just toning? You can never have them all incorported in just one act. You will only frustrate yourself. Like if you are fat and want to have a toned bod, you first follow a routine which will get rid of your unwanted fats before doing things that will tone your muscles. It's taking one step at a time.

For now, a 'metrosexual' bod is no longer in my mind. I have completely forgotten about it. In fact, It has never been a motivation why I have gotten hooked to jogging. All I want is a healthy, fit and well proportioned bod. I have totally brushed off the idea of going to the gym again, making me turned down the offers of my officemates to join them at Fitness First. Why spend big when you can have it for less.

TAKE A BITE!

I have this weird behavior of depriving myself of eating the food I really love: Shawarma, Tokneneng, and Siomai. Not that I cannot afford. In fact these are cheap food which can be bought anywhere. The reason why I put control over my cravings, is because I want to buy them in times I want to celebrate. Corny as it may sound, but these cheap food are what I feed my stomach on days I feel positive, light, or any emotion synonymous to being happy. They serve as my reward to myself.

Planning of eating them makes me excited. It's something I honestly look forward to.

I remember one charater in Paulo Coelho's The Alchemist. There was this Muslim Merchant who became the employer of the lead character for a particular period. I cannot really put into details the scenario, since I read the book in 2003, and have forgotten most of what have been told in the story. Anyway, back to the Muslim Merchant, he kept on postponing his trip to Mecca. Albeit what he had was more than enough already for him to make the trip happen. The reason why he could not materialize the plan, was for him not to lose the dream of going to Mecca. Once he had gone to Mecca, life for him was not worth living for already. He had gotten not just a dream, but a life's aspiration. So what else to look forward to in the days to come.

Although I'm happy most of the time (I should), it doesn't mean, I buy these food often. As I have said, I put it on hold. Until the cravings can be likened to a volcano ready to erupt.

If I was not mistaken, since the year started, It must have been more or less five times (only) that I had eaten a shawarma. As for the Tokneneng, my mother knows that I love this so much, so once she gets in SM Ayala, she sees to it that she brings me home not one, but two pieces of duck egg and it only happens once in a blue moon. Siomai can be bought literally everywhere, even served during parties here in the office.

Another funny thing is, once I buy the food, I eat it slowly as possible. I don't want to finish it right away. Basically, I eat so fast. My officemate even joked to me If I used to be in the prison (knock on the wood), because I eat like an inmate. I eat literally fast, but eating a shawarma, siomai, and tokneneng is totally a different story. I enjoy every bite of it.

Shallow as it may seem, but it's definitely me.

A 'PRIZE' SUNDAY

We heard mass at GB yesterday. I think I really have to share the priest's homily, since it was full of substance.

The Gospel was taken from Luke 14:25-33 http://www.ewtn.com/vbible/search.asp?abbr=Luke&ch=14&bv1=25&ev1=33.

Now here comes the homily. The priest began his sermon with "In life there are two things that we will encounter inevitably. The prize and the price. Ang premyo at ang presyo". He elaborated "Be it in English or in Tagalog, the difference of the two words is only one letter".

He narrated to us his visits to his two priest-friends in different occassions. First was to his 93 year old friend who requested Crispy Pata as a present. Another one was to his 45 year old friend who declined other food except lugaw.

To analyze, the 93 year old priest, despite of his age can still afford to eat food considered by many as unhealthy. This is because during his younger years, he lived a very healthy lifestyle. Now, he is just enjoying his old age without feeling anxious about his health. For him, reaching 93 still physically healthy is just an added bonus, so he can eat whatever he wants. In contrast to the 45 year old priest, who is suffering from high blood pressure and diabetes and can only take lugaw as his food. He may have indulged in so many gratifying food, but were not exactly what his body needed during his youth, thus his health has to pay now for the price.

According to the Priest, the choice is with us. If we are to enjoy the prize (premyo) today and pay the price (presyo) later or 'endure' the price today and live life full of prizes later.

Jesus has modeled to us the right thing. He paid the price first by dying on the cross for our sins and claimed the prize later by giving us the enternal life he has promised us.

So how do we take our pick?

After the mass, we took lunch and watched first Disturbia and later Nancy Drew. The two films fall to the same genre. Suspense. The difference is the weight of suspense concocted in the films. Disturbia has more serious content compared to Nancy Drew which is obviously made for kids.

It was a happy and a blessed Sunday, indeed.

My brother sent me an SMS this morning. He said, that when they attended the birthday celebration of Mama Mary in Fatima, Portugal, last Sept. 8, he was chosen to be the flag bearer of the Philippines.

THE UNTOLD STORY OF PARENG PLEMONG

Friday, June 22, 2007 (after a month of suffering from severe cough)

Dahil sa ubo ko ngayon na masyadong tuyo- ni isang plema ay wala...naalala ko tuloy ang mga plemang ibinuga ko sa loob ng biente nwebeng taong nabubuhay ako dito sa mundo. Wala lang, naisip ko lang na may halaga din pala ang naturingan nating peste sa ating mga baga at lalamunan.

Isang linggo na ang nakalipas ng neresetahan ako ng Doktor ko ng gamot para lumabas ang plema. Sabi pa nga ng Doktor, itext ko daw sya kung me plema ng lumabas - mas berde mas mabuti-wow! Ang point nya pag me lumabas ng plema, e di mas madali ng gamotin kung ano man ang sanhi ng ubo ko. So plema ang tangi nyang paraan para mahothotan pa ako ng perang ipambabayad sa kanya. Galing mo Doc!

Ngaun, habang naka-upo sa table ko, actually sa silya ko, kasi di naman pwedeng upoan ang table at baka sitahin ako ng boss ko, naalala ko ang mga plema na pilit kung inilabas mula sa aking cute na mga baga, tungo sa aking ilong at sa aking bunganga. Actually, yes actually may tatlong okasyon lang na di ko malilimutan sa tanang buhay ko. Mga okasyon kung saan ang naging agaw ekesena ay ang mga pesteng plema na inilagay ako sa nakakahiyang sitwasyon. Buti na lang may itsura ako. Wala lang trip ko lang sabihin na may itsura ako - wala namang kuneksyon sa plema. Anyway blog ko naman 'to.

Magbalik tanaw tayo. Grade-schooler ako. Siguro grade 1 ako nun. Nung panahon na yon, hinahatid kami palagi ng nanay ko sa school. Sa jeep, para makatipid ng pamasahe, sya lang ang nakaupo, kandong nya ang kuya ko at ako naman pinapatayo sa may bandang unahan ng jeep. Hindi sa front seat ha, sa likod ng jeep pero sa gawing unahan, kung saan, pagnakatayo ako dun, bunbonan ng driver ang nakikita ko o di kaya kuto ng batang pasaherong katabi ng driver.

Bibo ako ng bata pa. Di ako nahihiya pag nakatayo ako dun.

Alam ko bata pa lang ako, pilit na akong pinapatay ng ubo ko. Minsan ubo ako ng ubo, pero that time me plema. Ung tipong kada hinga ko, naririnig ko din ang galaw ng plema sa loob. Dahil ubo ako ng ubo, dapat idura ko din ang plema. At dahil hindi ako basta makadura kung saan-saan lang, lalo na sa mga mukha ng pasahero, ang deskarte ng nanay ko, nagbaon sya ng mga scratch paper para doon ako dumura. Ung mga scratch paper na yon ang mga pinagsulatan namin habang nirereview nya kami sa gabi. Minsan mga computation ng mga kautangan namin sa tindahan ni Mang Jo-al o kaya mga bilihin nya sa palengke. Anyway, nung umagang un, ubo ako ng ubo, gusto ko ng idura ang plema kaya lang nasa medyong hulihan napa-upo ang butihin kung ina kaya di naya nahugot agad ang mga scratch paper. Isa pang ubo at bubulwak ng palabas ang mga plema. At nangyari nga ang kinakatakotan ko. Umobo pa ako ng isa. At un! Naging instant shampoo ng isang estyudayante na naka-upo sa front seat ang mga plema ko. Naalala ko pa, batang babae un na nakatira din sa Baranggay Bata at nag-aaral din sa ETCS. Schoolmate ko, in short. All the while ng byahe di nya nalaman ang bugahan-ng -plema portion. Alam ko may nakakita, pero di ko maalala kung may nagsabi sa pobreng bata.

Mabilis abante AKA fast forward tayo. Third year high shcool na ako, sa LaCo. Eto na naman ubo ako ng ubo. Minsan naisip ko pinaglihi ako sa plema kasi kada taon inu-ubo ako. Nasa bandang gitna ako nakaupo. katabi ko si Marites sa upoan. Si Marites, nakatira din malapit sa bahay namin. Hello Marites, kung saan ka man ngaun! Ubo ako ng ubo, at di ko namalayang sumama palabas ang plema ko sa pag-ubo ko. Tumilapon ito sa arm-chair ko aka mini table namin. Buti na lang nakita ko ang paglipad ng plema at dali-dali ko itong tinakpan. Akala ko ligtas na ako sa kahihiyan. Nakita pala ni Marites ang lahat na pangyayari. At ng napatingin ako sa kanya, nakatitig sya sa kamay ko na nakatakip pa din sa plema. Pero this time, nakahawak na ako sa plema, as in puro plema na ang palad ko. Tinanong ako ni Marites kung ano un. Nagpapainosente pa ang luka-luka. Sabi ko plema ko, gusto mo?

Ang pangatlo at ang panghuli. Nagtratrabaho na ako sa isang Audit Firm sa may Ayala, Makati. Nakatira kami sa Pembo, na medyo me kahabaan din ang byahe dahil sa traffic. Eto na naman po kami, ubo ako ng ubo. Dito sa Maynila, pilit talagang pinapupuno ang jeep ng driver. Aandar lang ang jeep kung sa tingin nya malasardinas na kami, na halos di na kami makahinga sa sobrang siksikan. Dun lang kami lalarga. So isipin nyo na lang ang scenario. Punong-puno ang jeep. Buti na lang di kami nagkapalitan ng mukha ng ibang mga pasahero. Lugi sana ako. Puno na nga ang jeep, may kumakahol pa. Yes ako po iyon.

Eto na po. Sa kakaubo ko di ko na inalis ang kamay ko sa bunganga ko. Siyempre may breeding din naman ako. Kala nyo ha. Tinatakpan ko din ang bunganga ko kada ubo. Napalakas bigla ang pag-ubo ko at sumamang tumilapon palabas ang mga plema. Buti na lang nakatakip ang kamay ko. Punong-puno ng plema ang kaliwang kamay ko. Okay, di naman ako ngpanic. Habang nakatakip pa din ang left hand ko sa mouth ko, ang kanang kamay ko naman ay pilit na hinuhugot ang panyo ko sa bulsa. My golly! nakalimotan ko ang panyo ko! Shit na malagkit! Pano na! Nagpanic na ako! Although ung iba walang pakialam sa akin, me ibang pasahero na medyo curious na din sa pinaggagawa ko. Okay so wala akong panyo, at me plema ang kaliwa kong kamay. At dahil di naman pwedeng sa lahat ng panahon nakadikit ang left hand ko sa mouth ko, tinanggal ko ito na parang wala lang. Yes parang wala lang. Galing ko no? Sa kahabaan ng traffic natuyo din ang putris na plema.

Haaay, buhay nga naman. O s'ya, hanggang dito na lang muna ang kwento ni plemong. Hanggang sa muli.

MANIC IN SUBIC

March 9-10, 2007 (Friday and Saturday)

After a decade, I had the chance again to bask in the sun, to bathe in the sea, to roll over the sand and to get loose with nature. As far as I can remember, the last time I had gotten wet in the beach was in 1997 during our class Christmas party. Can you believe this? Should this have been known by my classmates I surely have received ridicules from them. It was all my fault after all. I had deprived myself countless of times.

I had been to several Companies and never took part into whatever activities they had. Either I would excuse myself due to poor health condition or somebody in the family was not alright. I had been a competent actor, always making them believed of my drama. Back then, making them convinced of me not going with them was a challenge; and making them go without me was an accomplishment. I never thought that depriving myself of traveling would somehow affect me in the long run. If before it was a feeling of freedom, that I could proceed to my planned-activity while they were having theirs, this time it’s a feeling of lose should I forgo another chance to travel, particularly go beaching.

One of my plans this year however was to spend more time on swimming, be it in the pool or at the beach. I must have been good lately that Heavens had granted my wish. In February, our HRD informed us through email that we would be having the Company’s team building in Subic. My golly! I thought I had been blanketed by excitement. From the time I received the email, I had never been so excited in my life. How dramatic and pathetic at the same time.

March 9. The day had finally come. The night before, I would have loved to sleep early to earn an eight – hour sleep, but my ever-ruthless nemesis, mr. insomnia had his plan worked on me as well. I had gone into unconsciousness already past one.

I envied my two officemates, Allen and Eco. While we were on the van, already heading to Subic, they were at the height of their energy, while I was still struggling to warm- up my day. Aside from the obvious that they’re much younger than me, making them exert energy effortlessly, the ones that had kept my energy low was feeling the weight of my eye-bags; the weight of my shoulders, commanding me to lay down; and the weight of my legs as though paralyzing me. Getting rid of my insomnia must be in my priority list, I told myself.

The whole morning, the HR people, lead by Ms. Hazel briefed us once more everything about Values: Company, Self and Team. It was funny seeing us like we were in school again. If in school the teacher had the power to ask whoever she wanted to answer her question, in our case, however-much effort Ms. Hazel would exert, as long as nobody wanted to answer her question – she would finally give in and would answer her own questions. Nobody was to blame – the scenery, the water, the sand were so inviting that we would prefer that the team building be cut off, leave the conference hall and jump into the water already.

If in the morning and during the afternoon we had more on theories and sharing, it was almost evening that we transferred location signaling that what we would be having next was something physical. Yes, it was indeed physical. Ms. Hazel announced that our next activities for the team building were obstacle relay and tug of war. I was in hype. Good for me that I had warmed-up already during the day. I’ve always loved competition especially when I can give myself assurance that what I can do is at par with what others can. Of course, I was referring to the ‘big game’. I was referring to those who can run fast hehehehe. I’ve never been athletic but, I can never let anyone undermine my ability to run fast. Once in 2005, Edgar (the president’s ex-driver and may he rest in peace) and I were walking home along Julia Vargas St. when suddenly rain started pouring. We had no choice but to run for cover. As we reached the Waiting-Shed he asked me if I used to be a snatcher harharhar. He could not believe that I could run fast considering (according to him) my short legs.

Kahkahkah…..yes…yesss…yesss…and yesss……yes I won. We won. Well not solely because of me, though. Anyway, let’s not get into the details of the games. What’s important was I was able to continue the race despite repeating the obstacle relay. I got so overwhelmed that I accidentally missed jumping trough the holes of the tires and just jumped over them. Actually, I jumped over three tires.

During the tug-of-war game, I knew that this time I could not really contribute a lot. The other team was a full force. They were composed of fat men and soon to be obese. So what was in my mind was not to really exert so much effort in this game; pretend to pull the rope with all my might; and act as though this game would dehydrate me afterwards.

After the games we were all so exhausted, proof that most of us were typical office people. Means prone to stroke. We even got worried of our two officemates who we thought would faint. Good thing that there was no such thing as mouth-to-mouth resuscitation for it would have really ruined the day. Must have been a gross scene hehehe.

We had dinner at 7:00. I really had wished for a meatless dinner since it was a Friday (It was a day of abstinence and fasting). Nevertheless, we already had eaten meat during breakfast and lunch so what’s the point of being concerned about having meat in my dinner. So lamon lang…. at lamon pa…at isa pang lamon. It was a picturesque scene. It was like the “Last Supper”.

After the dinner and when everybody had taken a decent bath we were all called to gather again to officially close the team-building. We had a game again entitled “Pinoy Henyo”. A copycat from one of Eat Bulaga’s corniest games. Nobody wanted to play the game so it was done by force. Ms. Charlo forced Lorie to be the actor and she forced me, unfortunately to be the guesser. I was motionless, that they had to pull me away from my seat. I gave them all a blank face. Zero reaction. Zero enthusiasm. They gave me a hearty laugh for that.

The best act was made by Jun. He was guessing what Pilar was trying to act. He said “insect?”. She said “No!”. He said “Caterpillar?” She said “No!”. He said “Butterfly?” We said “Hindi nga insect eh!” He said “Cockroach?” Belle shouted “Ano ba nagscience ka ba Jun! Sinabi na ngang hindi insect eh!” Jun said “cocoon?”.

What followed next was the open forum. An employee would tell what he thought about everybody. It was kind of boring until it was already Ms. Hazel’s turn. Ms. Hazel is the Company’s HR Manager. She was the one who initiated the team-building to us. During the open forum, she did not only narrated what she thought of us, but even described everybody’s character. To quote her “Itong si Helen tahimik lang to pero sa loob ang kulo”; “Itong si Bernadette isang taong puno ng puot at pag-iimbot, di ko marecon ang lumanay ng pag-sasalita sa kanyang ugali”, which made the two turned white, embarrassed, somewhat harassed that would have wanted to burry their heads in the sand like what an ostrich does once feels threatened by danger.

Inside of me, I was dying laughing. Just imagine, Ms. Hazel had spent the whole day on team-building only to collapse it come night time. After a week, Ms. Hazel denied that she uttered those words. She said she may have been tipsy that time that she could no longer recall a single word about Helen and Bernadette.

During the open forum, I noticed that every minute, the group was diminishing in number. Until we turned into a very small group. Others had been so tired that they preferred to go into their rooms and have rest. While some found the forum corny that they excused themselves to leave the group. Some went swimming. Others wandered around the resort.

I have always been likable. That’s why their basic comments on me were sweet, charming, cute etc. etc. etc. that I did not believe them anymore hahahaha. Early that day, one of our games was to name who among the employees had similarities to a celebrity. Unanimously, it was me. They said I looked like Mike Defensor! UTANG NA LOOB!

By 11:00 I left the group. I had to rest and sleep since I need to have a seven-hour-sleep to rejuvenate myself for the beach the next day. It’s 11:00 so I had to be asleep after 20 minutes. It’s already 11:30. Came 12:00. Then 1:00. At once, I wanted to cry. I wanted to get hysterical. This insomnia was ruining my plans. Almost everybody in the room was snoring except me who served to be their audience to their mini-concert. I gave myself a condition. If at 1:20 I would still be awake I would cancel my plan of bathing in the beach. It’s 2:00 AM. I could see clearly the time in my mobile phone. No more beaching come morning and it's final. I told myself.

6:00 Am. I washed my face, grabbed my Schobidoo beach towel and ran to the beach. Some of them were already in the water. I joined them bathing only to retreat fastly . It was cold. I could not bear the water.

As the sun started to come out, the cold water had somehow became bearable. I could not resist it. It was something I had longed for a long time. The ten years of drought had ended. Swimming against the current, basking to the sun, chasing the school of fish were what I had deprived myself of for years.

We were like an endangered specie of fish, born in captivity which had just been released to the wilds. We were restless. We chased each other. We chased the fish. We chased our breath.

When the sun was all up, some of the girls were already scared of getting tanned They left the beach and went back to the hotel. I did not mind getting darker. I knew, fair or dark, I would still look yummy hahahaha.

Lorie, Jun, Eco and Rolly buried me in the sand. I wanted to believe that there’s a medical benefit a person could get from being buried in the sand. It was so true. I felt so relaxed. It felt so good. I was enjoying the moment of being fully covered by the sand, of course except for my head. Until they started laughing. Laughing like a fugly hyena. I was trying to fathom what they had done to me. Hmmmm Eco was putting seaweeds on some part. Lorie could not look at “it” directly and started giggling. Rolly was saying “ang iksi”. AHA! I got it. They created boobs seemed to be full of silicon; a teeny-weeny down there; and two ding-a-lings with matching sea weeds.

We were informed that at 11:00 we would start packing our things for check-out. Before leaving the water, we satisfied ourselves by swimming for the last time. I mastered the art of ‘any stroke’.

Almost 12:00 and we were leaving Camayan Hotel.

Before we totally abandoned Subic, we dropped by the entrance of Ocean Adventure and Zoobic Safari to have some photo-moments.

Time was so fast. As if it was only yesterday that I was looking forward to this moment. Now we were leaving Subic for Manila. How I wished it did not last so soon.

Anyway, this Subic experience will always be something important to me. It was a blessing. It was an answered wish. I have always loved the water. Whenever I’m in the water I always feel relaxed, as though I disconnect myself from the world, making me feel so stress-free.

AT DAVIS CUP 2007 AT RMSC

Saturday, February 10, 2007

All in my mind was to be at the venue by one o’clock. It was a blessed Saturday that things had fallen into what I had planned for that day. I did not have anything to do as far as work was concerned since we had just finished the closing of books for the month of January so I could leave the office at exactly 12. Another bonus was the birthday blow-out thrown by my officemate which had saved me from spending for my lunch. It saved both my money and time.

I texted my friend that we would just meet at LRT – Taft and go together to RMSC. Thanks God, we were just in time. The game had not started yet. The Emcee had just introduced the players-something I missed. After making myself comfortable inside the cr, I proceeded to the grandstand.

While heading to the grandstand I met a tall guy, obviously one of the two who would play for the Philippines. How did I know? His outfit had spoken all for himself. I was not certain though who he was, but I was fast to consider that it was Cecil Mamiit. Yes it was Cecil, I told myself. I could not be mistaken. Those chinky eyes I saw in his various photos in the web would prove that it was Cecil. I am not a tennis enthusiast, that’s why I made sure to brief myself with a little background of the players lest absolute ignorance about the event would deprive me to enjoy the game. During the past few days I surfed the net about Davis Cup, Cecil Mamiit, and Eric Taino. My only objective why I allowed my feet to bring me to such competition was only to cheer for the country. I did the same thing during SEA games in 2005. I’ve realized that cheering for the country gives me a happy feeling aside from the enjoyment and the entertainment the sports provide. I told myself this time I would do it again. I should have called his name, I told myself after the guy I assumed to be Cecil had passed my way already.

My friend and I found a good spot in the grandstand. He sat at the upper portion while I was contented to just sit in the middle section. Then the players were called to be in the court signaling the start of the game. The game of that day was ‘double’, thus there were four players in the court, two in each side. The Pakistanis looked matured already. It must have been the beard on their faces. Looking at the Pakistan players made you think that in this game the Filipinos would be up against two Osama Bin Laden hahaha. Then I focused my attention to the Filipinos. There I saw standing tall was the guy I thought to be Cecil and the man at his back who was way shorter than him who I thought to be Eric. Hmmmm I told myself both of them looked alike. Both had chinky eyes. Anyway, I was sure that the taller one was Cecil. AS the game progressed, the crowd were starting to go gagah over the players particularly on the Filipinos. I noticed that the taller guy I thought to be Cecil was less cool than the shorter guy. I dunno, but I just could smell his ‘fear’. The short guy on the other hand, the one I believed to be Eric was simply cool.

I never thought watching tennis could be enjoyable and entertaining as this. The crowd was wonderful. Fans were shouting “I Love You Cecil”. Nonetheless, I still remained clueless who the heck they were referring to between the two players since they did not respond to the I love Yous- obviously so focused on the game making them deaf to whatever fans would say . I was still sure, however that the taller guy was Cecil.

The first round was over and it was 5-7 in favor of the Pakistanis. During the second round the one I believed to be Cecil kept on nodding to what the shorter guy had seemed to be telling him. In team sport like this, it’s very common to see players giving orders or instructions to each other. In their case however, the shorter guy appeared to be the ‘boss’. It made me think why on earth Cecil Mamiit tagged to be the country’s no. 1 tennis player kept on bowing to the instructions of Eric. Then it’s the Filipinos turn to serve. The shorter guy positioned himself to serve when the Emcee announced “Cecil Mamiit”. My golly, all the while I was a mistake hehehe. The reason why the shorter guy was playing cool and exuding so much confidence was because he was Cecil Mamiit and the one I met a while ago was Eric Taino. That explained why he nodded to Cecil’s instructions, because he was Eric Taino.

Enough with the who-the-hell-Cecil-Mamiit-is issue. Now I could focus on the game itself. The Pakistanis obviously did not come here to be beaten, thus making them exert so much effort to give their best. They scored. They missed. They scored again. Everytime they scored applause would be heard sporadically. Two Pakistanis at the Left grandstand; one Pakistani at our grandstand; about ten Pakistanis at the VIP section and another one Pakistani inside the court. Well that one inside the court was their coach, actually. If I were not mistaken with my calculation there were 14 Pakistanis who were always ready to give applause to their players. However, there were times that there would be 15 and the addition would be me. No, I’m not cheering for Pakistan, it’s just that sometimes I would be so overwhelmed by the game that I would accidentally cheer for the other team hehehe.

Side comments from the crowd were quite funny. You would hear ‘I LOVE YOU CECIL’ from a guy; ‘SUMOSOBRA KA NA’ thrown to Eric once he committed some misses. Eric lost to Pakistan the day before that’s why the fans were scared that he would do a repeat. That also justified why he appeared to be nervy compared to the confident Mamiit.

The fourth round ended and the Philippines won the game. Everybody was in jubilations. All the credits though were given to Cecil Mamiit. Poor Eric he was just in the sidelight, but he obviously agreed to it.

They were interviewed and the crowd was really happy. Cecil even danced to his favorite Pinoy Ako-Pinoy Tayo song. I hated myself for not bringing with me my camera. How I wish I had taken photos of the game.

When Cecil got out of the court and proceeded to the Tennis Office my friend shook hands with him and I, not to be just left at the side, touched his shirt imitating the act of the woman in the Bible who touched the cloak of Jesus believing that by touching the cloak she would become cured. I did exactly the same thing. By touching his shirt I would become….hmmmm….hmmmm…nothing…just nothing. There was nothing I could do to take as souvenir. I had no camera; nothing to be autographed on; nothing at all, except for the chance of touching the emerging tennis superstar of the Philippines. Well what I got was all sweat actually hahahaha.

The next day was Sunday and it’s going to be Championship day. I promised to attend the event and this time I would not fail to bring my digicam.