Four Seasons

Online newspapers keep me updated with everything that is happening in the Philippines. As usual, there’s the unstoppable, never-dying politicking and, not to mention, the unethical behavior at all levels of the government. As a citizen, I would have wanted to interfere. However, mine is a voice so little for the over 80 million Filipinos. But on a positive note, I have the firm belief that my voice could become loud through my every article. Before coming here, I was about to finish my Doctoral degree in Public Administration. Since it was so far-off from my engineering profession, people never failed to ask me if I would run for public office and what I would do if ever elected. In a bat of an eye, I was quick to retort that I would make sure good values are inculcated into the minds of every public servant. This conviction that ethics plays a role in the formation of a strong personal discipline just would not retire from my head. So my thinking is simple: go back to the roots ...

November 30 is the day I turn a year older. It is the best time for reminiscing about sweet memories of the year before, musing on all things that have been left undone, reflecting on friends who, in all my years of existence, have remained faithful and never changed and, most importantly, a time of facing a new chapter of my life. In the Philippines, November 30 is a red-letter day. It commemorates the birthday of a brave, noble and distinct Filipino, Andres Bonifacio. He roamed the land a century ago, fought for our independence and became one of the country's heroes. His dreams and aspirations of one day seeing and living a cheerful dawn of freedom and national unity came true. Had he not shed sweat and blood and led an uprising, along with other revolutionaries, against the Spanish government, I would have been deprived of the feeling a century of freedom could give. I was supposed to be named Eric Andres or Ariel Andres, in honor of the hero. But as to why I was baptized E...

In a third-world country where people breed like rabbits causing the population to grow to tens of thousands each year, anyone who knows the facts and figures must worry about the future state of the Philippines. The Department of Education attempted, at the start of classes last year, to bring forward to the whole country the program on "sex education". Such program was seen as a positive step by the United Nations Fund for Population Activities. It was supposedly be integrated to the general curriculum, beginning in the 5th grade, via subjects like Health, Filipino, Science, and Livelihood education. This way, schools could help bottle up the issue of overpopulation and educate students on the dangers of pre-marital sex, including “unwanted pregnancies”. However, everything went down the drain. Early on the program's trial run, the Philippine government scrapped sex education off due to the strong defiance by the Catholic Bishops’ Conference of the Philippines. The...

The squirrel has finally sniffed a treasure in the middle of the field. Unmindful of me observing only a few yards away, not even signaling an expression of dim surprise, it took something from the ground. Whether or not it was food, I didn’t know. It meant so much for the squirrel I could see how the nibbling went on for minutes. This event took place – no, was seen – no, was experienced, that’s the right word, near the bell tower along Medary avenue, on a cold, drizzling Saturday morning on my way to Wal-Mart to shop something for lunch. Unlike the squirrel needing no single lesson in mapping to track down food, I had to focus my memory’s eye to a map I tagged along. Careful not to soak it with rain, I, ever so often, stopped beneath shades and checked parallel avenues I wandered upon. Fourth avenue, that was. Another squirrel crossed my path. Feeling cold, my ears were about to split, for numbness perhaps. I then realized how the squirrel might have laughed at my current whole...

Living isn’t fair. The past ten months in Brookings had been a continual tussle of having faith and not having faith – a fluctuation that, in most instances, opted to stop on the former. Lately, however, my psyche had settled for the latter. The infinitesimal linear membranes of my reasoning that support the conformity of arguments warp into a complex ball-like silhouette that any lawyer’s rebuttal wits may only go about in circles, or, just as worse, end up on dangling ends. In a state of skepticism, there are just few things that may successfully penetrate the core of the ball and rouse me to believing that a coin can be flipped to reveal another side. Show me some love. Show me some actions. Only then, I would have a change of heart. My ego feels like a point – that which has no part – as stated by one of my professors. It senses but obeys no feeling anymore. It knows something but refuses to fathom. It adores nothing but itself. All were consequences of the gigantic ...

You have to read between the lines: "I dwell in SDSU. Life is WECOTA building”. My life as a student and as a research assistant in SDSU is dyed-in-the-wool to seeing the building daily, to marvelling its rooms and, most appropriately, to exploring the grace of the first floor and the basement (or the dungeon, as we fondly call it). So what's worthy of musing over a building - apart from the seeing, marvelling and exploring - with a massive pair of columns at the entrance and a lone window at the basement room that would not even open? Well, as a matter of fact, there are a million and one reasons to reminisce about. Allow me to highlight a few. 1. The insert-your-dollar vending machines. It serves coca-cola products, potato chips, M&Ms, and all other candy and bubble gum varieties. The MSG-filled junk foods are right there waiting to delight you in on idle moments, when you can’t think of anything but crisps and sweets. The not-so-intelligent machines don't ac...

I counted the number of "HOW ARE YOUs" I received today. Nine. This doesn't count the other "how are yous" I heard from students at the Union, the pathways, hallways and other possible places where people meet accidentally or intentionally. I told a friend about this kooky feeling I am having against the greeting. "How are you" could easily qualify as the most overused word next to "hi" and "hello" in this part of the world. Here is a personal rationale. When someone says "hi" or "hello", the addressee is anticipated to either smile or wave or answer back with the same word. Example: Maria meets Peter. Maria says, "Hi, Peter." Peter answers, "Hi, Maria." Simple and quick communication. Conversation ends. Single words that when said demand a simple and snappy comeback. However, when someone asks "how are you", since it is an open-ended question, the addressee is expected to an...

Dreaming is my constant companion. It has caused countless unexpected things to come my way, including my being a US neophyte and appreciating the scores of stuff most of my countrymen love about Uncle Sam. Traffic, for instance. Traffic jams are virtually unknown in this place. There are lanes for bicycles – even for pets! No officer on sidewalks watching undisciplined pedestrians cross where crossing is prohibited. I have yet to see an indigent child begging for food. More so, I have always felt this place as deception-free that a nightly walk along unlighted pathways is safe for this Filipino wanderer. No more worries that someone pops out from somewhere armed with an icepick to rob me of my valuables – money, phone, jewelries, shoes or even clothes. Rejoice! I am in a developed nation. I love the Philippines, like how Americans love America. My dad opened my eyes to the principles of the Boy Scout movement, to love God and country. I was a scoutmaster, trained to be loya...