Pakistan week

Tinatamad akong magsulat. Kaya eto na lang muna ang mga litrato ng aking limang araw sa Lahore, Pakistan.

Ang ecumenical centre kung saan kami tumira, nag-workshop, nag-bible study at kumain ng masasarap na Pakistani … food.

Ang Lahore Museum na isa sa pinakamalaki at pinakamatanda sa buong mundo. In fairness naman eh talagang malaki sya at matatanda na ang makikita dun. Including the guard.

Ang rickshaw na syang mode of transpo sa kanila. Bukod sa laksa-laksang motorbikes.

Isa sa mga mosque. Halos 99% ng kanilang populasyon eh Muslim. Kaya nagpaka-butch ako.

Hindi ko kilala ang unggoy na ito. Entertainer sya sa kalye. Nagandahan siguro sa akin kaya tumalon sa bintana ng van.

Eto ang aming sinakyan nang minsang gumala kami. Ayoko sanang sumakay for an obvious reason.

Marami pang nangyari at marami pa akong nakita. Iba't iba ang mga balitang lumalabas about Pakistan at most of them give a scary impression of the place. This trip made me look at the country and its people in a different light.

Also, I'll never look at a Pakistani guy the same way again. Wagi! (Sorry walang picture kasi baka bigla akong ma-bembang kapag bigla ko na lang silang piniktyuran)

Bayard who?

I came across his character in the movie "Boycott" but I never really became aware of the man until I saw Brother Outsider.

When one hears of the civil rights movement in the United States, the name Martin Luther King comes to mind. But lurking in the background – in fact, way before King became a symbol of the Black American's struggle for their rights – was Bayard Rustin. A gay activist.

Admittedly, I am not that familiar with the history of the civil rights movement aside from the Montgomery bus boycott, the Ku Klux Klan and the deplorable practice of lynching.

To know the life of Bayard Rustin is to admire his guts for standing up to a system and period where it was a curse to be black and an abomination to be gay. But he did live the life he knew in his heart was right.

I may not agree with his pacifist principles but considering the historical period he lived in, how he stood by what he believed in is admirable at the very least. Despite the repression he faced mainly from the state and at some point from his colleagues – due to his sexuality and color – he just pushed on and on.

"The proof that one truly believes is in action." So true.

Of mixed signs and signals

One of the stuff we hate but cannot avoid.

It is really frustrating to say the least. Is it really hard to say what you mean, mean what you say, do what you mean and mean what you do?

If consciously done, mixed signals are downright mean, scheming and manipulative. If done inadvertently, they bespeak of indecision.

In the 10 fabulous things with being gay (I forgot the exact title), they said that gay guys know what they want thus we go out of our way to really specify who we are and what we are looking for: rice queen, potato queen, chubs, bears, top, bottom, versa, etc.

While it does sometimes make things simpler, I can't help but think that it somehow also diminishes that certain kind of pleasure in discovering what else is out there and how one thinks about it in relation to his own self. Isn't self-awareness a continuing process?

But on the other hand, not knowing takes one back to the nerve-wracking, head-splitting world of mixed signals.

Catch -22. Damn if you do. Damn if you don't.

Oh well, maybe there really is no way of avoiding mixed signals. Maybe it just boils down to learning the trick of identifying the primary signals from the secondary ones and the imagined signals from real ones.

Though up to now, I'm still trying to grapple the meaning of this sign:

But this one is totally different:

It's kinda blurred but it says: "Shirts and Shoes Required. Bras and Panties, Optional". Fairly straightforward if one can wrap his mind on the fact that I found these in a restaurant. Effectively stopped me from entering.

At least this sign knows what it wants:

If only it can say it properly. (Sigh!)

Hooked

On books.

Yeah, I've rediscovered the joy of reading books. Not that I stopped reading. But in this age of computers, internet, ebooks and audiobooks, I did miss the feeling of flipping pages instead of clicking buttons.

There is a certain kind of relaxation that reading an actual book can give. And once you turn that last page of a really good one, heaven.

The other week, I did a spending spree at a book sale and took home a couple of titles. I'm almost done with the third book and this got me hooked again on Dune.

For many sci-fi followers, Frank Herbert's Dune series is like one of THE books to read. Through Dune, Dune Messiah, Children of Dune, God Emperor of Dune, Heretics of Dune, and Chapterhouse: Dune, Herbert created a new universe and spawned the saga of the Atreides, Harkonnens, Bene Gesserits, the Spacing Guild, the Fremen and a host of other memorable characters.

After his death, Brian Herbert and Kevin Anderson wrote more Dune novels that were basically background stories that set the stage for Dune – the trilogy Prelude to Dune and the Legends of Dune, also a trilogy.

There are some who even philosophize passages in the book that, when one thinks about it, do have some truth or at the very least, some points to ponder especially on the workings of religion and the impacts of ecology to human.

I must not fear.
Fear is the mind-killer.
Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration.
I will face my fear.
I will permit it to pass over me and through me.
And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path.
Where the fear has gone there will be nothing.
Only I will remain.

This is probably the most-quoted line of Dune. Called the Litany of Fear, I am not really sure if saying it over and over again can indeed make one face its fear. But it is somehow a comforting perspective on the topic.

I am a Dune addict. Like most Dune characters are with melange.

After Hunters of Dune and Sandworms of Dune – said to be the climax – I'm not sure what else will be there to write about it. But as it is fiction, it can really go on forever depending on the author's imagination.

Where will it lead to?

Paul Muad' Dib did say that to know the future is to be trapped by it. And who would want to?

Nagpaparamdam

Sabado. Oktubre beinte-singko. Magba-blog ako.

***

Naisip ko na may mass recruitment ang Dead Daddies' Society noong nakaraang linggo. Ilang kaibigan at kakilala ko rin ang namatayan ng mga tatay.

Yung isa, biglang nakadama ng pagakahilo at panghihina mga isang oras bago nya nabalitaan na namatay na tatay nya. Natandaan ko tuloy ang naramdaman kong pagkabalisa noong araw din na namatay ang tatay ko.

Premonition? Ewan kung may siyentipikong paliwanag dito. Baka naman masagot ng Fringe (ang bagong TV series na kinahuhumalingan ko) ang tanong na ito.

***

Sa huling post ko, nangako ako na babalik sa blogging. May mga pagkakataon din talagang mahirap tumupad sa pangako.

Tulad na lang ng pangako ni Angelo kay Yna sa Pangako Sa'Yo. It took eight DVDs with six volumes each and each volume has about five 30-min episodes bago natupad ang pangako nya. Nakakangalay ang mag fast forward. In the end, si Yna pala ang tunay na Buenavista at si Angelo ay anak ni Diego na hindi rin naman pala Buenavista.

Still, gwapo nga si Jericho.

Sabi ni Oracle, "one cannot see beyond the choices he fully understands". Pero one cannot also have full understanding of the choices he makes until the process takes its course.

Hindi ko alam ang relasyon nito kay Yna at Angelo. Naisip ko lang.

***

Sabi ng isang kaibigan ko sa akin dati: "if you had a wife, she'd be your mistress".

Ito ay matapos ang ilang beses na hindi ko nagawang paunlakan ang paanyaya nyang magkape o kumain sa labas. Maraming kailangang gawing trabaho.

Buti na lang, bakla ako.

***

Andaming sumusulpot na mga isyu at hindi ko sya mai-blog. Saka na lang siguro.

***

May mga tao ba talagang manhid?

May hinihintay ako.

The longest-running-whatever of my entire gay life

Alright, since I've spilled the beans on the fictional rejection, I might as well run through the whole gauntlet and talk about real ones. It can be exorcism at its best and masochism at its worst.

I think there can be two general types of rejection.

The first is the one that just comes naturally even without the other guy saying it. It is a matter of interpreting the signals from the other guy that can come in various forms, and degrees of obviousness. The more complicated and can drive you insane are of course the mixed signals. But as time passes, they usually sort themselves out.

I've been in this spot a couple of times. It's frustrating and leaves you with the feeling that you're hanging upside down and anytime, any day, you're gonna get the axe. It's like you are on trial for the crime of falling first.

But the axe never falls and what you are given is a suspended sentence until you get off the hook completely.

The second one is the in-your-face rejection that many of us try to avoid as much as possible. At the very least, it is an awkward situation for both parties but it also kinda shows their maturity.

Yes, I've also been in this spot. This time I'm not kidding though there was less drama than what I imagined in the last post. And no, it was not Kiel. It was with a common friend of ours.

This guy was not the usual guy I go for. I knew him by reputation even before I saw him larger than life. Believe me, he is large (height-wise, at least).

When I saw him at last, I played it real cool. I treated him like a usual guest though my insides were tied in knots. No, I'm not gonna say why I liked him that time because I'm sure he's reading this right now and I like to think that he's squirming in his seat at this moment.

Anyway, it was an on-and-off thing for he was not based in Hong Kong. But it was the longest-running-whatever of my entire gay life. Started in 2001 and ended in 2005.

But now we are friends. It's funny how I used to be all fidgety when he's around and afraid to even just message him online for I didn't know what to really say to him. Now, we even make fun of those happy days.

I guess if you look at love and relationship as something that you should work for, then its value depends on how much effort you put on it. In the face of rejection, how it is dealt with it depends on how hard you work to get the elusive mutuality of feelings. The more you put, the deeper it goes. The deeper it goes, the longer it is for acceptance to come and for moving on to start.

Maybe it's why breaking up is harder. At the end of it, isn't a breakup just another form of rejection?

Here is the thing: after the rejections, I did recover in a jiffy and in only one or two cases did I break down once or twice. Still, I got to recover. And thinking about it, even maybe too quickly.

Now I wonder, have I not loved that deeply?

This was supposed to be posted yesterday but I was not sure if I should. It started as a dare and it ended as … well, like I said above, an exorcism.

Moving On (again)

Binasted ako ni Kiel.

Kahit malayo, sumubok ako. Nagpahayag ako ng damdamin sa kanya. Kung paanong ang unang atraksyon ay lumalim sa madalas na pag-uusap, kwentuhan, palitan ng opinyon at mga biruan. Syempre may halong sexual undertones pa minsan.

Marahil ay hindi talaga kami para sa isa't isa. Hindi nagtutugma ang aming kalagayan para sa isa sanang magandang pagsasamahan. Masakit man ay kailangan ko yung tanggapin. Wala naman akong magagawa. O mas tama sigurong sabihin na sa kasalukuyang sitwasyon eh wala akong magagawa.

Ilang beses ko na ring sinabi, ilang beses ko na ring ginawa pero uulitin ko pa rin: I have to move on.

Fine. That was such a crappy opening.

I'm just desperate to post something on this blog that I thought of this drama story. There's no truth in the above scenes.

Well, I did have a crush on Kiel like I've had crushes with other bloggers. Technically, nobody among them rejected me because technically I did not court anyone. So technically, again, I am not moving on.

To be more precise, I am actually stuck when it comes to guys and romance.

So the past two weeks that I did not blog was not because of Kiel or other guys. The simple fact was that I just got too busy with too many things happening at the same time or, at least, one after another.

So what have I been up to lately since I last posted an entry? Definitely not courting Kiel. To rundown:

Helped in the Bethune House fundraising program. Watched ITALY (I swear I did! I couldn't say no to a free premiere night ticket). Tried hard to dance in the general assembly of LIKHA Migrants Cultural Organization. Celebrated the completion of my extra challenge by watching the first few episodes of Heroes (S3), Grey's Anatomy (S5), House MD (S5), Brothers and Sisters (S3), Knight Rider (S1), One Tree Hill (S6) and A Very Special Love. Saved Prison Break (S4) and some more movies for the lean months to come.

Called the government crazy with its mandatory psych test for OFWs. Called the government crazier with the minimum age requirement of 30 for domestic workers. Called the government craziest for its sellout of OFWs agenda in the coming GFMD. Called GMA words my mom would never teach me for plainly being evil.

Had some drinks with straight friends. Had even more drinks with gay friends. And oh yeah, went to Disneyland and had a fantastic gay day.

I could have blogged about any these. Maybe I could have even thrown in stuff on the financial crisis, US elections and the milk from China scandal.

But I did not for there was just too much going on around here.

I know I've been neglectful of this blog and blogging in general. I feel guilty for not following up on blogs I regularly read. I feel embarrassed that I've never taken any part yet in the snowballing all-pink-bloggers-unite initiative to establish the Rainbow Bloggers of the Philippines.

I feel impotent for not having the drive to even flirt.

The coming few weeks shall basically be the same if not even busier. But I will try to regain my blogging momentum, be more active in the RBP and start hitting on guys again. Even if …

Binasted ako ni Kiel.

Of habits, porn and the bitch on my bed

By this time tomorrow, I would have completed the month-long extra challenge Kiks and I set. His challenge was this one and mine was: No watching of "looted" movies and/or TV series. No reading of ebooks or listening to audiobooks.

Compared to what Kiks set out for himself, mine is mundane. But with the first four episodes of Prison Break Season 4, the first episode of House MD Season 4, the men's diving and men's gymnastics finals of the Beijing Olympics, and a host of movies already on my hard disk and just a click away, to resist watching is almost painful.

Habits, by nature, are very hard to break. Especially when one is faced by various pressures from almost all sides, the temptation to slide into an old, convenient and comfortable habit becomes an extra, extra challenge.

I am not planning to have a movie marathon anytime soon. For now, it is enough for me to at least let down my guard and give in to the prospect of being a couch potato for two hours at most in any given day.

One month is not enough to make me say that I've broken the habit. But at least, it does tell me that I can.

I just wonder when I can be ready to say the same thing with smoking, drinking coffee, and getting cold feet in front of a really, REALLY cute guy.

***

To help a friend of a friend, I answered his survey.

If you also wish to do so, just go to this link: http://com.cityu.edu.hk/netporn/

If you have more time and want to help more, he also asked if you can post the link in your blog/s.

This is purely voluntary. No free porn as giveaways.

So if you can, lend a hand. Give to the "porn". (Kidding, it's a serious academic study.)

***

I slept with a bitch last night. Here she is.

Banci. Our vegetarian dog.

Before you get any nasty ideas about what we did, I just let her sleep on my bed last night. The fur was a bit distracting but at least she did not snore.

I did wake up with some scratches.

***

Yesterday, I decided to let it/him go for a while. Another habit I am trying to break.

Today, I am having withdrawal symptoms.

Senti with UP

Two things recently reminded me of my UP days. The first made me think of my university while the second made me think of myself.

First was the UP Pep Squad bagging the championship for the cheerdance competition for this UAAP season. I think during my time (not so long ago, I swear), there wasn't even such a category in the UAAP. Or maybe there was but I never again attended any UAAP game after I completed the required units on Physical Education. So maybe it was just something I missed out.

Notwithstanding my indifference to the UAAP, I am still not exempted from sentimental school loyalty. Though I did not jump with joy on the news of the squad's victory, there was that spark of elation when I heard of it from my current and ex-Isko friends. Pride can really be contagious.

The second event was the 31^st anniversary of the League of Filipino Students (LFS). With Multiply contacts who are members and then also belonging to the e-group of former members, there was no escape from reading the activities conducted for the celebration and the photos that went along with them.

I always think back of my LFS days in UP with fondness.

When I stepped inside their tambayan to become a member, I never thought that I'd stay on. Except for the rally I joined in when I was in third year highschool back in the province, I was a greenhorn when it came to politics and activism. Still, I had my share of keeping abreast with current events and social issues and the LFS and its reputation piqued my interest.

From then on, I plunged into student activism.

I never missed out on the discussions ranging from issues of the day to the natdem principles. I went to rallies and had my share of squaring off with police and paid thugs. I joined the room-to-room campaigns and also had my sleepless nights during USC elections.

Then there were the times when we went to other sectors to know of their concerns and learn from them. We spent weekends with urban poor communities, peasant areas, and with workers in their picketlines. In strike areas such as the Nestle-Magnolia one in Cubao, I learned to sleep on sidewalks with my reliable malong but more importantly, I got insights on the capitalist-worker relationship.

Call me romantic, sentimental or idealist, but it was in my time as a student activist that I got to appreciate the Iskolar ng Bayan tag. One of the lines that struck me most during that time went something like this:

Ang paaralan ng isang tunay na mag-aaral ay ang lipunang kanyang ginagalawan. Ang kanyang guro ay ang mamamayan. At ang kanyang pagsusulit ay ang pagsasagawa ng mapagpalayang pagkilos.

The UAAP and a number of tatak-peyups events – Oblation Run, UP Fair, Lantern Parade, Maskipaps, Live A.I.D.S., - make me melancholic of my alma mater.

As for the years I spent with LFS, well it never really ended.

Still, with regrets

My dad will die tomorrow.

If only I had this thought three years ago, I would have flown home in a heartbeat. Maybe not that fast but fast enough to at least be with him before he took his last breath.

I still remember that fateful day.

My father had been in a hospital for about a week. The night before, I spoke to my mom and asked her of his condition and she said that he still felt weak.

I woke up the next day gearing for a full-day meeting. Somehow, I felt a little bit down and I told myself it was just due to worrying about my dad. Even my colleagues thought so as well.

Later on, I began to feel cold. Cold enough to facilitate a session in the meeting fully-wrapped in a huge colored scarf.

I called my mom again and she informed that my dad's siblings were all there. I figured that there was not really anything weird with that for it had always been the case that whenever he called for his brothers and sisters, they always came to him.

The meeting ended at around 8:00 pm. I tried to reach my mom again but she did not answer my call. I went back to the office and logged on to my YM but no one among my own siblings was online.

The agonizing minutes, hours, passed. I was quiet or rather, too quiet even for my own taste. I thought that I should go home and rest but somehow, I remained in the office surfing the web, playing online games and just waiting for any news back home.

At 11:00 pm, the call came. It was my eldest brother in Dubai who informed me that my mom went out of the hospital to look for a priest.

This is it, I thought so.

I did not know what to feel. I just went numb. Though I managed to inform my friends what was happening, I could not bring myself to get emotional and all. I thought it ungrateful and unfair of me not to even shed a tear now that he is dying.

And then it happened. At 12:05 am, my Dad died.

I did not go to sleep anymore. I made calls after calls – to Philippines, Dubai and to Qatar where my two other siblings were – informing them what happened and planning how we were to go about with the funeral. Maybe I was compensating for my stubborn tears that refused to fall. Or for my disregard of the gut-feel that something bad was going to happen.

Or maybe just for the fact that I was not there. I was too late.

Of course I know that my experience of being absent when a loved one died was not unique. Countless more overseas Filipinos had suffered the same. But knowing so does not lessen the regret and sometimes even the guilt.

Eventually I did cry. At the third day of the wake, the dam just broke and I couldn't help myself but cling to my mom. She was the strongest of all of us. Maybe, caring for my dad in health and in sickness had somewhat prepared her for the inevitable.

I still miss my Dad. It will not really go away.

Even if I could have foreseen his death.