Wednesday, November 21, 2012

Are Filipinos OA?



Ok, Singaporeans are the least likely in the world to experience emotions of any kind. Well, guess what? Filipinos are the most emotional.

Photo grab from www.gallup.com
According to a survey by www.gallup.com , 60% of our population feels either positive or negative emotions on a daily basis, not to mention surges of angst against any pro-RH bill senators, or disapproval of an English-speaking agitated college student who went bonkers in an MRT Station. We are almost always affected by what’s happening around us, and we tend feel these emotions that tend to elicit these reactions that make us feel so ever important - and moral - and righteous – and proud - and discriminated – and God knows what. We even have this thing called ‘tampo’, which until college days, I didn’t know that an English term “sulk”, would have almost identical (if not equal) meaning, and believed that we Filipinos are the only ones in the entire world that can feel this. So much for my patriotism.

So, do I feel happy about this survey or do I feel bad? Or should I feel anything about it at all?
I am working for the same company for more than 5 years now, and during this period, I’ve met and will continue to meet a lot of people from different countries, not just the US. I can name the country where each one of them came from, like I’m reading the back of my hand, even if for this purpose, I assume we all speak the same language. I can tell which one is British, who’d probably give the most number of pouted lips in every conversation and would call potato chips, “crisps”. South Africans would always address you Sir and begin each sentence with “Alright”. Middle –east people would consider you their “friend” even if you just met them. An Indian would nod sideways when he says yes.

Then, a Filipino (make his hair blonde and his accent Californian) would have been silent, said yes sir/mam occasionally, then come up to me and tell me that somebody threw him outside the bus during a recently concluded meeting and that he’s now planning to resign.

Filipinos are happy with their uncooked fish (kilawin), but then there's 
the Japs and their sushi. 
And then you’ll learn that he had no intentions of leaving. It probably was a joke. Or that he changed his mind. Right.

From my perception of how a Filipino handles each kind of situation as compared to how other nationalities do it, I have concluded that most Filipinos are shy to show their true feelings to the other people they feel that feeling towards to (get that?). And although shyness is inarguably, an emotion, Filipinos tend to hide their other emotions under this cloak, that a lot – believe me – consider as even a positive trait that should be part of the Filipino identity. I’m not saying that this includes everybody. I’m just saying, most of my fellow countrymen I have observed are like this. And in reality, this can either be amplified by a myriad of factors that may include fear, past experiences, inability to communicate assuredly, or just trying to jive with the rest of the group.  Whatever factor is applicable, shyness overcomes our other emotions, if not hide them. And given such predicament, I wonder how this survey would prove true to Filipinos, should my perception be correct, if only one type of emotion is prominent, among others.

Alright, I may have a big fallacy here because I only tackled one type of situation a Filipino may be in (forgive me for I spend a cycle of 90 days in Kabul, mostly in our villa with officemates). Or that I may have only been thinking of a few experiences with a few people who cannot even be gathered as a sample population size for our residential subdivision, let alone a nation. And you may even say that I’m just describing myself. And maybe you’re right, so I would steer away from this so called “shyness”.


Although, I didn’t say that that’s the only emotion we, Filipinos, feel.

I don't know if I should laugh or shiver.
Matutina from pep.ph
For we also feel anger, as when Terry Hatcher’s character in the series ‘Desperate Housewives’ seemingly insulted our doctors who “graduated from some med school in the Philippines”. We feel discriminated, as when Lucy Liu said she doesn’t want to get dark and look a little Filipino (as if she is literally belittling Filipinos, geez?!) Sometimes, we feel glorified as a lovable and uber-talented race, as when Jessica Sanchez, a half-Mexican, half-Filipina, born in California, and who had never been to the Philippines until last September, went into the American Idol Finals. Oh, by the way, we felt cheated as a nation when she didn’t win. And finally, though I can name some more, some feel proud when we hear the word “Philippines” in an international newscast, no matter how depressing the news is, even if it’s about some 50 journalist buried alive by some demonic politician who’s trying to cling to his post, all because name of our country “get mentioned” somehow.

But these feelings are all about other people. These feelings are all about what’s happening in our environment. These feelings are catalyzed by news, hearsays, and more often than not, bandwagons. And sometimes, we react in the most outrageous way imaginable. But what about the emotions that we  feel when we did something that is good, like if we, ourselves, and not some half-Pinoys, contribute to the good of the country, to our family, or even to our girlfriends? How do we show it? What about the emotions that we need to invoke when we think our bosses are rigging the company’s books, or if one of our friends is causing trouble to the community? Do we even care? What about asking for that position which you feel confident that you are more than qualified to take? Do you even have the courage to mention it between the lines?

Some may answer “yes”, or may not have any qualms about speaking up. But I bet, a lot would really just shut up and carry on with whatever they were doing. And though this silence would mean work time or study time not wasted, other people, believe me, would view it as a result of shyness. We, Filipinos, are not complacent but, we are also not aggressive.

And the sad part is – we often dwell into emotions that simply do not do us any good.  And we tend to depart from those emotions that will help us grow. Our reactions against our aggressors are posted not on bulletins nor formal letters, but on Facebook and Twitter – which, is the same venue where we post our rants against that #amalayer girl whose breakdown was, really, none of our fucking business! Unbelievable!

So the question: Are the Filipinos over –acting? My answer: In a very wrong way. 

from Pinoy-exchange.com

Singapore Ranks as Least Emotional Country in the World

Singapore Ranks as Least Emotional Country in the World

Wednesday, October 3, 2012

Wedding of the Opera (este, Phantom pala)


September 3-17, 2012

This was my first R&R when I didn’t go anywhere but within the gritty streets of Metro Manila - and Taytay, Rizal of course, as that’s where my fiancée lives.  We both flew in from Dubai, right after she had her working visa cancelled so she can focus on our wedding preps. The very next day after we arrived, we went to the US Embassy for our interview with the consulate. After surrendering our passports in the morning and doing a little bit of mall strolling in the afternoon,   we went to see the Phantom of the Opera at the CCP. This was my first, yet final relax gig for this vacation of mine, and glad I spent it with my soon to be wife.

I’d give my hands down to Les Miserables as my favorite musical of all time, but I got to admit, I didn’t expect that the Philippine run would be so good, I’m having some discernment problems whether I was hearing Ramin Karimloo as the Phantom or the one on stage, Jonathan Roxmouth (of South Africa) who lead the international cast of this famous stage extravaganza. I’ve seen the movie, starred by Gerard Butler, who undeniably gave justice to the role with the rockiness of his voice, and I’ve watched the 25th anniversary, where Karimloo proved his worth as one of the rising stars of Broadway.  
Costumes by the lead casts of Phantom of the Opera. The designs had to be the same for all the plays staged anywhere in the world. 

Roxmouth, on the other hand, with a name I was not really familiar of, surprised me and (I guess) all the other Filipino Broadway fans with his sultry, rocky yet fragile rendition of Music of the Night and other duets, as the angel of music. He and the other cast such as Claire Lyon (as Christine) and Anthony Downing (as Raoul) gave bravura performances that I just had to stand up during the curtain call and eventually, start the trend among our co-lower box audiences.

While waiting for the play to start.
One thing that Phantom is ahead of Les Mis for sure is its stage setup. The rumored 15-million peso production design and props that turned CCP Main theatre into the Paris Opera House at the turn of the century silently sing of opulence worthy of being remembered for a long time. I mean, it couldn’t be ‘world-renowned’ for nothing, right?

But the best experience I’ve had watching the Phantom would be holding my fiancee’s hand while listening to All I Ask of You as sung by Christine and Raoul. This song, that for countless time she had asked me to sing over the phone when I was courting her, had become a resonating symbol of the romance I first felt for her. The romance, which for that night, felt warmer and more certain as the glitzy lights on that famous chandelier hanging from above. All her thoughts into the stage, she didn’t notice that all I did was to look at her face, with her eyes amazed at what I had taken her into. Then, it was as if I am loving her the first time – three months before our marriage.

Her eyes glow more than the lights of the Chandelier (above)


The following day – we finally went home – and the rest of my R&R became a big drama of wedding preps, licenses, and seminars, by which, I swear I would have not proposed yet  had I known of them. Hahaha! Life is like a box of chocolates, you never know what you’re going to get! Champ 10/01/12

P.S.


I’m just kidding about the idea of not proposing. So before you get mad at me (again), I want you to think of me. Think of me fondly when you say goodnight  =)

Saturday, June 23, 2012

Someone's Cooking


Yesterday, I was talking to Zaldy and Cyla on Skype when something dawned on me and gave me a sense of looming reality. Six months from now, our long-stalled wedding will take place, and up to that point, I thought that there’s just a lot of time left but I realized that we don’t. On the other hand, I may be worrying too much. Whatever I should be feeling right now, it doesn’t matter.  Prepare early then, you get everything in order.  My overriding principle in life is - If you can start today, do so. I was never a fan of procrastination. And besides, my beautiful fiancée must be worried 10x more than I am right now. So I’m giving her more favor than I am doing myself any help.

Honestly, it’s not really the wedding I am worried about. It’s the day after, and the decades that will follow. And I am not even certain that this anxiety is not that gee-I-can’t-wait feeling whenever I am waiting for my turn to sing karaoke (that is if I jam with people I just met or barely knew). There is just this truckload of questions. But one thing is for sure, there’s nothing more I would want than to grow old with my future wife.





I’m feeling what my good buddy, Mike Gadia, must have been feeling when he was just counting months before his wedding over a year ago. Whenever we got the chance to chat on Facebook, he’d just blurt out how frantic the preparations were. Back then, I didn’t get it. I had this impression that the brouhaha over weddings is just a girl thing, but I was mistaken. You’d really want it to be perfect, not because everything must be brilliant, but because you would want to start this married life perfectly.




Well, I called Zaldy and Cyla to discuss the choir’s preparation for the ceremony. We’ve got a list of songs that include those that will be sung for the first time by my beloved Sto. Nino Choir. Just as I had expected, I am hearing complaints of how difficult the songs were. But the dedication, of course, is there, and I admire how everyone is working hard to make sure that they’ll sing their parts perfectly. Included in the repertoire are:

1.     Beati Quorum Via – C.V. Stanford
2.     From this Moment – S. Twain
3.     O Magnum Mysterium – M. Lauridsen
4.     The First Time I Loved Forever – (Phil Madrigal Singers’ arr)
5.     When I Fall In Love – (Phil Madrigal Singers’ arr)
6.     Runaway – (Corrs, arr by my friend, S.E. Pacamparra – if he finishes it)
7.     Parent’s Prayer (Christian Song) – Steven Curtis Chapman

Passion in music is one of the few things that I and my fiancée share in common. As an accountant, I am in no way professionally related to her work as a nurse, so there would be a lot of dead air and one-way talking going on in our daily calls, but a topic on music would usually keep my Skype and phone bills climbing, LOL.


With six months to go, how do I consume my time prior to the date I will fly home to don on that tuxedo? Well aside from my buwis-buhay work here in Kabul, there’s three things I’ve found really fun to do:

1.     Watching MasterChef Australia

2.     Imitating those dishes I saw in MasterChef with the burner plate I’ve got in my room.

3.     Eating what I cooked and discerning if I can use it as an audition entry should there be a MasterChef – Afghanistan edition.

What if MasterChef hits NATO Bases in Afghanistan?


And of course there’s three things I’ve found not fun to do, and yet I still have to do them:

1.     Running (or brisk-walking) 2 kilometers a day on the treadmill to shed off extra fat I gained in eating my MasterChef entrees and main courses
2.     Running 500 meters more to shed even just a bit of my belly flabs accumulated over years of eating in US dining facilities, which would always serve supersized meals buffet style.
3.     Stepping on that weighing scale and seeing that I’m just losing a thousandth of a kilo after an hour of excessive sweating and leg-cramping exercises.
At 23 minutes,  I have walked/jogged  2,205 meters and burned 177 Cal

Doing all these things gave me two realizations. First, things you do for fun aren’t really as easy as they seem to be, you just don’t notice the difficulty as you are enjoying them. And of course - things that are not fun to do are never easy.

Even if the task is just to wait, it is never easy. 


It’s already 1 am and I gotta hit the bed. See ya. 






























Tuesday, February 7, 2012

The Belt of Opportunities - for my Dad





I thought I died. But no, here I am, again, writing a new post to an almost forgotten blog site of mine. Well actually I‘ve passed on several opportunities of writing the past few months. I didn’t feel I was just ready to invoke my frozen creativity and get on this keyboard to write whatever topic that comes to my mind. Maybe.  Maybe not.


Rhetorically, I’ve written a lot of views on my current life lately, with each perspective comparable to a portal opened by my “totems”, such as:  places I go to, workmates, videogame machines, movies, poems, and dead people. No matter what they are, there’s always a connection between them and my philosophies. And there are a lot of these inspirations around that they never become a problem. It’s usually a matter of finding some time to sit and type at a very slow pace of 30 wpm to get these thoughts published in the cyber world. And now, I had the opportunity and had decided not to let it pass.

As cliché as it may sound, an opportunity may come once in a lifetime – like that chance of getting voted as Prom King/Queen or being born on Christmas day (birthday celebrations will be a lot grander). 

Well, there are some that never comes, yet we always dreamed of them.

Ironically, some opportunities would come when we didn’t want them, and then leave just when we needed them most. 

But the worst is when they were just there, but then, we failed to see them - until they’re gone forever.


It has been a great opportunity for me to have a father that I look up to in almost all aspects of my life. It was a once in a lifetime chance to have a dad like him - one who would take us to church every Sunday when we were kids (and actually until I had the ability to have kids of my own).

He cooked Caldereta like no one else does.

He went to the market every Saturday afternoon or Sunday morning, and when I was with him, I’d walk behind to watch out for his pants because money would always fall off his pockets. I’d pick them up and keep them in my pocket (just for safeguarding until I spent them).

He’d take us anywhere his money can. He liked to travel, and drive long distances. Maybe, I got my lust for travelling from him.

After each Sunday morning mass, he would play the “swing medley” from Abba, and would dance with me (having no one else in the family that was interested in dancing). He was my first dance instructor, and I’m always proud of it.

When I was a kid, I’ve dreamt of being rich. Some of my classmates had parents who worked as managers and who provided them with new toys, clothes, and school stuff. Well, my parents were struggling. I had many siblings so even if my Dad worked as a government official (with a decent salary); I never got what I wanted. But I was not malnourished. My Dad provided us with basic things we needed and mom helped him out with budgeting and earning some more.

We didn’t become rich like I wanted.

My Dad admitted he had missed out on a few chances – winning the lotto as one of them.  We were sometimes lacking.  I realized there are just some opportunities that didn’t come, well at least before or for now or maybe never will. But that’s ok. You just look for something else.

Like how my Dad disciplined us, there were some opportunities that we just didn’t want. There were so many times he’d hit us with his belt after doing naughty things. Many nights he’d come home from work and none of us would want to stand up to open the gate for him.

Sometimes, his presence was an unwanted chance, an unwanted circumstance.

I always felt that I did mistakes not worthy of that stingy pain on my butt when I got spanked.

Time passed, and as my father grew older, so did I. I would commit greater mistakes that I regret of doing. Wrongs that I hoped I can reverse. Faults that I wished my old man would hit me with his belt so I can avoid them and keep them from further damaging my soul. But this opportunity left when he became old and I have become my own man.

************************

Things changed. I worked overseas. We talked a lot less often than before. But then, our talks had more depth. Although I never said I loved him, I would let him feel it.  I did not get a clue. 

One October night, I was talking to my mom on the phone. I heard his voice in the background saying he’d visit my grandparents’ graves on All Soul’s Day. He was asking for money. I said "Yes, no problem". I said goodbye to my Mom. After a few hours, I received a phone call, and was told that he is gone.

I hoped I had talked to him on the phone that night.

I wished I had told him that I was working this hard so I can continue everything that he had started and make them grow.

I wanted him to know that he didn’t have to worry about us because he did a great job raising us.

I wished I have told him that I love him. I had the chance, always had, but didn’t take it. Now I can never have that opportunity, even if I give up everything.

************************

I am one of my Dad’s totems for I can feel his spirit in me. His blood runs through me, and his works are found on who I am today. This I can never change and never will. And if I will have the opportunity to be born again, I will still, without a thought, choose him as my father.  For who I am is what he was.

Rest in Peace, Dad. I love you.



Ernesto Angeles Javier
1938-2011