The Next Six Years: My Two Cents on the National Elections

If you count the years from the inauguration of the next president on June, 2010 until he steps down, that would be a full six years. By that time, I am supposed to be a doctor already. Maybe even starting my own little family. I am in my own little world. Or am I?

In less than a month, our nation would once again choose the person to lead us in the next six years. This is my second presidential election. The last time, I actually voted for the dwarf in the palace. This time, after much consideration, I have finally decided on who I am going to vote for.

Contrary to what other people may say, no, I don't really believe in surveys. I do believe, however, in the charisma of a person. And how that person is packaged. To quote from the Broadway musical, Wicked:

"Think of: celebrated heads of state or specially good communicators -- did they have brains or knowledge? Don't make me laugh! They were popular, please! It's all about popular! It's not about aptitude, it's the way you're viewed. So it's very shrewed to be very, very popular like -- me!"

I guess one of the reasons why somehow I understand the pulse of the people is because of our exposure to community organizing. I mean, how can one understand the common tao if one is not exposed to them, right? If one spends most of their time caged inside laboratories and classrooms, how will you understand how the masses -- which comprise a lot more than half of the population -- think? And in a country where the a single vote from the masses is equal to a single vote from the privileged or one who was able to obtain higher education, one couldn't ignore the fact that the vote of the masses can really make or break a candidate.

I know that many people from my caste are going to question my choice of presidential bet. But as I have stated before, I am not voting for my candidate to win, but rather, I am voting so that his strongest contender will lose.

In a country where it is possible to make a political party from dust, to thrust whatever programs they want to force into the already confusing system, one can not help but think -- if you are really for your country, why do you have to form your own party and not just unite with what was the legitimate parties before. Dito kasi sa atin, hindi tayo nagpapatalo. Kung hindi tayo magiging leader sa isang organisasyon, pipilitin nating gumawa ng isang organisasyon na pwede tayong maging leader. Ganyan ang political parties natin -- hindi tayo magkasya sa dalawa o tatlo lang. Hindi ba't ang ganyang pag-iisip -- ang pag-iisip na hindi ka makikiisa dahil lang hindi ka napiling leader ay isang pamantayan na kung gaano ka makasarili?

Regarding surveys, one must take into consideration that surveys are not just some random sampling of people walking down the street. There is a carefully thought-of, scientific process that is applied. Though surveys do have a certain margin of error, it also has some truth into it. But when you think of it, senatorial election survey results are to be read differently from that of presidential. We must take into consideration that senatoriables fight for 12 seats. Even if you end up on the 13th or 14th rank in the surveys, you can still be in good shape. For the presidency, however, where there can only be one, being in number 3 or lower is saying something -- especially if the range of percentages is significantly lower.

My second point is that my right to suffrage comes with responsibility. Sabi nila, kung hindi ka bumoto, wala kang karapatang magreklamo. That is the reason why even the lowest barangay elections, I make an effort to check if I am listed and registered so that come election day, my vote will be counted. No matter how minute it may seem. So in my opinion, no matter how much one rallies behind a candidate, if one's vote is not counted, it'll all be for nothing.

So yes, I am riding the bandwagon and voting for the son of democracy icons. For the following reasons:

1. I believe that if you are brought up by parents that laid their life for the freedom of the nation, you cannot take it away.

2. I don't think he is the lesser evil. I simply think that he is not.

3. The Luisita Massacre? One must take into consideration that he owns less than 2% of the said land.

4. There is a nice video (by Prof. Winnie Monsod) of the SCTEx and C5 extension project put side by side that I shared a few days ago, it's worth viewing.

5. He may not come from the masses but he knows what sacrifice means.

6. I believe that he can win over the Realtor.

7. He loves Glee, too. Hehehe.

8. I would love to have Kris Aquino as the acting First Lady until he marries his Valenzuela Councilor friend.

I am not asking you to vote for him if you do not believe in him. For all we know, I can be wrong. As I was when I voted for the dwarf. But this is my opinion. And I am entitled to one.

My Pink Cage

There is a red leather couch in our family hall. I am sitting on it now. This is where I sit for almost 16 hours a day. I would either check my facebook, post on this blog or play the SIMS 3. Sometimes I would pop a DVD or two. I would download songs. Or sometimes just stare out the window thinking of places I could easily go to. But can't. Not because I can't physically but because I can't -- they won't allow me to even go out.

Tomorrow, my boyfriend and his friends would go to Laiya. I would love to join them. But I haven't told mom my intention to go. Because she would probably say no. I can already see how our conversation would go.

Noah: Ma, pupunta sina Chris sa Laiya.

Mom: Buti nalang hindi ka nahilig sa beach, ano?

Wow. Dun palang, wala na. Or it can go as follows:

Noah: Ma, pwede ba akong sumama kina Chris sa Laiya?

Mom: Ay hindi. Tapos overnight pa? Hindi ka pwede.

There are times when classmates would ask me to join them to go wherever but I would say no even without asking my parents if they would let me go. I'd rather spare us the long conversations that would most probably lead to a fight.

There are even times when I wanted to go somewhere or do something but can't -- to the point that later that evening, I ended up in th ER -- for hyperventilation.

After reading my copy of Saddock and Saddock's Psychiatry, I realized that I am also agoraphobic. I panic easily. And I have responsibility issues. And I have become passive-aggressive.

But if you'll ask me what I really what, my answer would still be: I don't know. I just want to be able to go out and not feel guilty.

Mama Bear's High School Reunion

Except for very few memories, my high school experience was pale in comparison to all the hype they told me about how high school are the best years a person will go through. Yes. Generally, I did not enjoy high school. Which is why I am not a very big fan of reunions or get-togethers. Of all my high school friends, it is only Abby Camus that I am constantly in contact with.

So last Black Saturday, Mom was invited to a small, casual high school reunion in an obscure resort between Victoria and Pila. And since Mom always tags me along (whether I like it or not), I was tagged along.

So there I was, in my usual suplada self, barking out complaints about how dirty the resort was and why they don't have this and that and this and that... until we reached the two-storey sort-of cabin where the reunion took place.

As I stepped out of the car, I heard singing and laughing from the terrace on the second floor. Then I saw a couple of balding heads. "Kalbo na classmates mo," I remarked.

Mom just smiled and walked up the steep stairs, with me on her heels. And upstairs, I saw Mom's middle-aged former high school classmates. Some recognized Mom right away. Some had to stop for a few moments to recall how she looked like nearly forty years ago.

I stayed for a while, watching Mom and her former classmates catch up on each other. The questions of: Where's... and what happened to's... started flying in every direction. It was a cute sight.

But eventually, boredom got the better of me and I told Mom I'll just pick her up later. As I was on my way back home, I thought of my own little high school reunions.

The first being a year after graduation. Then a few years later. And the biggest was two years ago when our batch celebrated our 10 years anniversary. And yes, you guessed it -- I didn't go.

I didn't go probably because I don't want to realize how far behind I still am from my batchmates. Some of us are already climbing up the corporate ladder, doctors, lawyers, and even more already have families of their own. I don't have any of those. Needless to say, I am still arrested at adolescence. Somehow, I still manage to float around in mediocrity. OR maybe due to the fact that I never really enjoyed high school.

Yes, I may have a handful of happy memories in high school but not enough to really call it enjoyable. I only have two constant friends in high school. Abby, whom I mentioned earlier. And Melanie, who I haven't seen since well... graduation. There's also this other group that I hang out with but most of them fall short of actually being called "friends". We never had enough things in common then, what more now?

I didn't graduate with honors but I did earn a ticket to attend the University. That was where the real fun began. You see, in high school -- or at least the one I attended -- it didn't really matter much if you were the smartest in class. What matters is who you know and who you are related to. At first, I lived by that system. But when I realized that yes, I can be more, I packed my bags and never looked back.

I am not as successful as I wished -- or at least, not yet. I am still a work in progress. But that's okay. My time will come, if not tomorrow, somewhere in the near future. I just have to wait patiently for it.

Early that evening, I went back to that obscure resort to pick Mom up. She was still in light conversation with a couple of people. But we left a few minutes later.

Then I thought, maybe I should give these reunions a chance and attend at least once.

Good Friday, Victoria Style

Good Friday in Victoria, Laguna has always been a spectacle to behold.

Nung araw kasi... yung Santo Sepulcro, isinasayaw iyan. Tapos ang nagyari, dumating sa puntong mga lasing na ang umaagaw sa Santo. Tapos kung saan saan nila dinadala -- sa Laguna Lake -- kasi liliguan daw -- para dumami ang huling isda. O kaya dun sa Lobo -- para daw madaming anihin. From revelry to downright sacrilegious. Yan ang nangyari sa amin. Kaya may ilang taon na ang nakakalipas, nag-utos ang obispo, walang prusisyon sa Biernes Santo. Hanggang matutong gumalang ulit ang mga taga-Victoria.

I was a small kid when this sacrilegious tradition began. My playmates would call the image "gire-gire", a local term for shaking. Because when the image is held by a mob of drunken men, it looks like its shaking. Maybe that is why I developed a ridiculous fear of that certain image of Christ. You see, before, when I was too young to join the Good Friday procession, when my Mom would see that the image is already approaching, she would bring me inside our yard and close the gates shut. And, just like our neighbors, we would watch the image pass by from afar.

Year after year, the incumbent Parish Priest would think of a way to prevent such actions. But they were all in vain. To prevent violence, they would just allow the mob to take the image wherever and would return it to the church with broken glasses, incomplete fingers and deranged flowers. This was the norm. Until the diocese decreed that the Good Friday procession is cancelled, until we learn to respect the sanctity of the tradition.

We didn't have Good Friday processions for years. Until our incumbent Parish Priest gave it a try two years ago. He had the image bolted to an elf truck, surrounded with barangay tanods and police. I have to admit that I was half expecting that the mob would carry even the elf truck to be able to run with the image again. They were unsuccessful.

That year, for the first time since I can remember, I was able to watch the procession without running inside the yard, afraid to be stepped on by a stampede of drunken men.

For the third straight year, we were able to have a peaceful Good Friday procession. I wasn't able to join because of tiredness from the 7palabras preparations. But of course, because I am omnipresent (is that a sacrilegious statement, too?), the pictures...

Back-Blog: the 7palabras adventure 2010

In another one of my futile attempts to write a blow-by-blow account of what happened -- and should have happened -- during the Holy Week, today I shall concede and just write a (probably -- possibly) lengthy blog about it.

You see it was a week full of frustrations. I was already running on batteries then -- I was tired from month-long exams. All my brain wanted to do was rest. But it was forced to work overtime when I found out that what was supposed to be an almost-finished 7palabras presentation has not yet to take-off. We had four days left and no concrete program. I started to panic.

I walked around our 'stage' -- that is, the steps in front of the church's altar. My tired, tired brain is not its usual self. No ideas coming in. And the fact the kids' commitment to the presentation was also faltering was not helping. Looks like I have to build a sensible and meaningful program from scratch -- with only four days to go and a handful of committed teens.

Now that plan A was scrapped, we formulated a plan B. That was scrapped, too. Then we had plan C. That didn't work either. By Holy Wednesday, I formulated plan D with what is left of the kids (around 10) and my energy. We decided to go for a simple sharing and reflections sessions. Starting at 1:30 pm, instead of the usual 12noon. We based our program on Bo Sanchez' Mga Huling Wika, which was also being aired during the time we were presenting it.

We also had a simple set up. I brought my foldable square table, covered it with white linen. I put my small purple tea-candle lamp on it and a simple steel cross I borrowed from the rectory. Beside the table, we placed a comfortable chair, where the speaker would sit. To make the ambiance relaxed and casual.

A few feet from the table was a cross draped with purple cloth. Before it, we placed seven candles, each one to be lighted before the prayer for each word. After each word, instead of a live presentation, we played carefully chosen music videos of church songs on the projector.

The presentation ended on time -- 15 minutes before the Veneration of the Cross -- with enough time to spare for clean up.

It wasn't as what we planned for months -- but not bad for something prepared for in just days. I am really proud of my two sacristans -- who wrote their own reflections. They will be going to the seminary come June 2010. We have high hopes for them.

I was very disappointed with what happened and decided to break away (maybe for a while or maybe for good) from the Parish Youth Ministry. This is not to overrule the Ministry but to make sure that the kids understand what service means.

That being a youth willing to serve does not mean youth camps, or trips, or what-have-yous. It's time to go back to basics. Time to serve -- in the rawest sense of the word. It's time to go back to catechism -- to making them understand what it means to be youths for and in the service of Christ. It's time to stop posing to be parish youth ministers and start to really be one.

Palm Sunday and Visita Iglesia 2010

I was supposed to check on the 7palabras crew but my Ninang told me that after the 815 mass, we will be going on a trip to Batangas -- for our annual family Visita Iglesia. So I got up early, rounded up the rest of the Ministry of the Word to rehearse for the gospel for the 930 English Mass.

We left Victoria at around 10 am. This was the first Visita Iglesia that we used two vehicles. Our family is already too big for just one. I shared the red car with Erj, Mom, Tita Evie and Tito Roy. Ninang and her family used the gold car.

Our first stop was St John the Baptist, Calamba, Laguna.

I wasn't able to take many pictures because there was some sort of mass baptism going on. And I was also sort of lost. Medyo na-disorient kasi ako sa boses nung nagsasalita. Let's not elaborate on who and what that voice was saying. Let's move on...

Our second stop was Sto. Tomas, Batangas. When we got there, a wedding (or I think it was two) just took place.

Then Tanauan. I wasn't able to get a picture of the facade because there were 5 funeral masses happening simultaneously. Medyo dyahe naman. But the church was enormous and really airy.

Our next church was another church dedicated to Nuestra Senora de la Soledad. It was one of the prettiest (yes, pretty) churches I have seen. It was very simple and airy too, much like Tanauan's other church. When we were leaving, they were also preparing for another wedding.

Next is another one of the simplest churches I have seen -- Malvar. Aside from the annoying smell of pigpens, it was a relatively peaceful-looking church. But I have been there a couple of times before. Isn't really something new.

Our sixth church is San Sebastian Cathedral, Lipa. The seat of the Diocese of Lipa. Like many other cathedrals or old churches I have visited before. It seemed a little depressing. Almost no sunlight creeps in. The walls are filled with murals that, in my opinion, added to the dark, sinister look.

Our last stop was the Monastery of Mt Carmel, also in Lipa. I have been here before, too. Around seven years ago. But I enjoyed my visit now than before.

After we visited the churches, in true Mommy fashion, we dropped by SM Lipa to buy a few stuff. (Got a new pair of maryjanes from Hush Puppies!) Then we went home. We arrived just in time to catch one of those campaign thingies of Joey Lina and his party. But being too tired, we just headed home and I got ready for the next day. It's time to check up on the 7palabras presentation.

Last Day of YL II

Our monthlong exams (and year level two) culminated with an OSCE (Observed Structured Clinical Exam) from the Internal Medicine Department. So with our new Littmann Stethoscopes (Nikki and I bought the Master Cardio, some of our classmates say that its too much, we say its good investment), we reluctantly faced our preceptors. Medyo nakakakaba kasi I did not feel that I was ready enough because of the final exams. Syempre inuna ko yung mga sa finals and then, we received an email saying that the OSCE is 50% of our grade for IC2 this semester. Okay. So panic attack again. Plus my wisdom tooth decided to act up so I was tired and pain was getting the better of me.

That morning, I scheduled an appointment with my aunt, a dentist, to look at my aching tooth. But until she sees it in the afternoon, I have to endure the excruciating pain -- which meant I have to bear with it through out the whole OSCE.

OSCE wasn't perfect. Wasn't able to do some of the manuevers in the abdomen exam as well as in the cardio exam. Time run out. My respiratory exam was better but the preceptor told me to practice percussion more -- I wasn't able to percuss efficiently. The only exam that I did well was general appearance and HEENT.

After which, I, with mom, went to Bulacan to visit lola and to have my tooth fixed. Auntie told me to have it x-rayed. And a surgery could be done if it hurts again. (Sigh) X-ray is easy... but surgery? I will have to think about this.

We left Bulacan around 5pm to finally go home to Laguna. I was tired, my body ached, my mind wants to rest for even just a while. But I can't, at least not for the next week. Holy Week is one of my busiest weeks in the Parish. I am hoping that the kids have all stuff we need already, so that 7palabras will turn out better this year (fingers crossed!).