Percy and I

He's my Valentine's date. And he's a demigod.

I haven't seen the film yet. For reasons too complicated to explain, I decided to forego watching it with friends yesterday and instead spent the rest of last night finishing the first book. I just spent the past few hours including dinner on the second book of the Percy Jackson and the Olympians series and I can say I have mixed thoughts on how it is going so far.

The plot: Perseus Jackson is a young boy who's the son of one of Big Three Greek gods to a mortal woman. Dyslexic and with ADHD, he goes around having summer adventures with fellow demigod Annabeth and the satyr Grover while for the most part of the year, he goes to school and lives a relatively normal life with his mom or what can pass for as normal for one sired by Poseidon. I am not yet sure if there'll be a twist in the next three books but so far, the story leads to a final confrontation with the titan Kronos and his plan to destroy the West. (I'd like to think that it is beating imperialism to a pulp but then again, it is presented as an "evil" design so probably it is not the same.)

On one hand, it does interest me to read about how one can fight a god, or gods for that matter. Throw in a modern-day setting – with US playing host to rampaging 'gods' – and it further piques my curiosity. Throw in further a magical pen that becomes the sword Riptide, a clash with Medusa affectionately called Aunty Em, and Hades' domain just in the underbelly of Los Angeles – it does arouse the fantasy-buff in me.

However, so far, I cannot say that it is at par with The Sword of Truth, The Belgariad or the Shannara series as fantasy epics go. Or even Harry Potter for that matter. Sometimes the fusion of Greek mythology to the modern adventure is too much. For someone to whom Greek mythology is, well, Greek, I lose the thread of the story when a new character is introduced and keeps me wondering if it was really how the Greek myths put it. It does help from time to time when the writer creatively put a narration to explain what has happened or about to happen but it takes a while to get me back on track.

Still, I will finish reading the series. It still has good moments enough to while away time.

I'm reserving my final judgment until I read the last book. Like my thoughts on Valentine's Day, it is still under process.

Health alert

I am not a health buff. This blog's name attests to that.

What I am is a human rights buff and the illegal arrest, detention and torture of 43 health workers just makes me sick.

Two doctors, one nurse, one midwife and a host of community health workers were arrested last Saturday in Morong, Rizal while they were in the middle of a health training conducted by the NGO Council for Health and Development. A cursory glance at their website reveals that that is exactly what they do – train community health workers and build community-based health programs to provide the needs of communities where people get sick or die without even seeing a medical professional.

Consider these: forcible entry to a private place of domicile, a search warrant that was only produced after the operation and was issued by a Cavite court for a person that the house's owner – a respected consultant at the Philippine General Hospital – has never heard of, finding a grenade under a pillow, a so-called witness who miraculously came out and pointed fingers to his "comrades". It gets more incredulous every day the arresting military unit tries to stick the "NPA" tag to those they are currently holding that even include two pregnant women.

As relayed by one of the detainees, Dr. Mia-Clamor, they have been subjected to mental and physical torture just so they will be forced to admit to fabricated membership to the NPA and even more fabricated crimes.

Their only membership is to humanity that cannot be said to those who trample on human rights. Their only crime is to deliver one of the most basic of social services to the poor that the government has long denied.

In the face of what happened to the Morong 43 or Health 43 as activist groups call them, smoking one pack a day, drinking coffee by the buckets, and missing out on my workout for two months now (and counting!) is not as unhealthy as the culture of impunity that has grown like a cancer in our society for the past decade.

When is the right time to say you like someone?

I posted the question a few days back in my FB and sure enough, different folks have different strokes.

Kiks: kapag nilaglag ka.

Mandaya Moore: kapag nawawala na gana mo sa kanya pwede rin kapag inunahan ka nya. segurista.

LA: Pag offline ka na.

SB: Pag di mo na natiis...or baka pag feeling mo mauunahan ka.

PT: Paglasing na lang para you can deny everything the following morning.

RC: Basta sabihin mo na lang. sigurado namang sasagot iyon. alinman sa dalawa gusto rin o ayaw.

MdG: kung ako ang nasabihan ng ganyan i would expect that the person who said it is also expecting an answer: yes, no, maybe, in what way, or can i phone a friend? etchos.

EB: right away...it worked for me

MMA: While the two of you are laughing after someone cracks a really good joke?

OBB: pag ngayon mo lang nakita o nakilala, huwag muna. Nagpapacute lang siya sa iyo. Pero kung matagal mo ng nakilala.... hindi ka dapat nag-aaksaya ng panahon.

So how do I say it's the right time for me?
When I am sure of it and when I am prepared to follow through or suffer the consequences.
Probably next week. Or not.

Hindi sa sawa na akong mag-blog

Dahil lang siguro sobrang hectic ang nakaraang mga buwan - byahe sa mga bansang hindi pa napupuntahan, byahe sa mga karanasang hindi ko pa napagdaanan. Hindi talaga totoo na only the destination counts. Pwede ka ring bumilang during the trip. Two-way.

Marahil din ay dahil nagkasama-sama ulit kaming pamilya pagkatapos ng walong taon na pagkahiwa-hiwalay. I don't really have to look far to know about the Filipino diaspora. Nasa Cabuyao lang sya.

Pwede rin naman na dahil palaging nariyan ang mga gawaing hindi maiwan.

Siguro din ay may mga bagay lang akong pinagmu-munian. At mga pangyayari na nilalampasan. I like to think that I will come out of them unscathed. Para lang one-night stand.

Pero kahit hindi ka nasugatan, mayroon ka pa ring pag-iisipan.

Para ngang one-night stand.

Araw ng Patay

Sa totoo lang, hindi ko pa rin alam ang distinction between Halloween, All Soul's Day at All Saint's Day. I-google ko na lang siguro mamaya.

Basta ang alam ko eh Araw ng Patay ang November 1.

Noong bata pa ako, excited ako kapag Araw ng Patay. Hindi dahil ako ay morbid kundi dahil bata pa ako.

Tingin ko, ginagawa talaga ng matatanda na something to look forward to ang November 1 para sa mga bata. Sino ba naman kasing bata ang makaka-appreciate at hindi matatakot kapag sinabi mong may araw ang mga patay?

Reunion ng mga magkakaanak ang Araw ng Patay, minus the namatay syempre. Picnic ang kinakakalabasan complete with latag sa ibabaw ng nitso ng kung anu-anong mga pagkain. Kwentuhan ang mga matatanda na ironically ay hindi ng tungkol sa binisitang patay (kahit araw nya, in the first place) habang naghahabulan sa sementeryo ang mga bata. Madalas, nagpapaligsahan pa kaming magpi-pinsan sa paggawa ng pinakamalaking bola mula sa tinipong candlewax na iba't iba pa ang kulay. Bantay talaga sa natutunaw na mga kandila habang akala mo ay seryosong binibigyang pugay ang nitso sa harapan.

Mas masaya actually ang gabi ng October 31 o gabi ng November 1. Totoo na walang trick or treat sa amin noon complete with costumes pero merong caroling. Pilit kong inaalala ang kinakanta namin noon pero hindi ko na mabuo. Heto lang ang mga parts na tanda ko:

"Kaluluwa'y dumadatal, sa tapat ng durungawan

Kampanilya'y something-something, ginigising ang maybahay

Maybahay pong inang ibig

La-la-la-la, higit sa langit

Araw-gabi ay tahimik, chika-chika nyong malapit

Kung kami po'y lilimusan, dali-dali na pong bigyan

At baka kami'y masarhan ng pinto ng kalangitan.

Palimos po!"

Yan ang kinakanta namin kapalit ng piso o singkwenta sentimos. Understood na namin na pag Pasko lang malaki ang kita sa caroling.

Sayang, kung may ganito rin sanang practice sa Hong Kong, mas malaki ang kita ng mga bata dahil dalawa ang Araw ng Patay dito. Isa para sa lalake at isa para sa babae.

I know! Paano tayo?

X Problem

Actually, wala naman talagang problema.

Dahil naniniwala naman akong pwedeng maging magkaibigan ang mag-ex. Though you also have to consider din the manner of the breakup. Kung halimbawa eh may breach of trust. Mahirap din naman i-kunsidera na kaibigan ang isang tao na hindi mo pinagkakatiwalaan. Kahit pa nga hindi absoluto ang pagtitiwala, friends are ones you trust more than, for example, the man you met at the bar last night.

Wala naman kaming pinag-awayang matindi kaya kami nagkahiwalay. Like many immature relationships, we just drifted apart. Sana man lang may big fight o may dramang naganap para kahit paano eh masabi kong nahinog ang relasyon. Nahinog tapos nabulok, ganun.

Pero wala eh. Iba ang dinaanan nya at iba rin ang dinaanan ko. Unfortunately, never did the twain meet.

Wala naman sana talagang problema dahil we've both aged. At gracefully ha sa kaso nya kung picture ang pag-uusapan. Pero syempre lampas pa dun, I'd like to think that we've matured mentally and emotionally.

Wala naman sana talagang problema dahil kumportable naman ako sa sarili ko at mukhang masaya din naman sya sa buhay nya.

Wala naman sana talagang problema na i-add ko sya as friend sa facebook.

Madali sanang gawin. Kung bakla lang sana sya.

10 for 10

This time next month marks my 10th year of being in HK.

Probably because I needed something to help me recoup my blogging ante, I thought of writing 10 posts for the past decade that I have been here. Considering my recent lackadaisical efforts to write on this blog, this will really be a tall order.

But then again, it may very well be worth the time to think about some stuff that I've learned and experienced within the period that my hairline receded for at least half an inch, my weight jumped by 30 lbs more (three pounds a year, not that bad actually), and my Chinese vocabulary improved from swear words to ordering my favorite dish, chiu pa fan.

Just to kick off, here are some random and trivial bits that I picked up along my 10-year, and counting, journey with friends, colleagues and compatriots in Hong Kong:

• When you want to meet a friend who is not familiar with HK on a Sunday, just ask him/her to go to Black Man. It is a place that is at the heart of HK but is not really identified in any official map. Only Filipinos know about it.
  
• An alley is a narrow street. But the alley-alley is a place to shop for cheap clothes and various knick-knacks. It is sometimes called alley-mall.
  
• When a Filipino domestic worker says she just came from doing aerobics, do not look for leotards.
  
• HK Bank (HSBC main building) has one the biggest concentrations of Filipinos on Sundays. In one day of petition signing, we gathered about 2,000 signatures from the habitués of the place.
  
• Winter has started when manangs sell coffee while summer commences when now-you-see, now-you-don't halo-halo stands sprout.
  
• Singing is really a passion for Filipinos – be it outdoors in Chater Road or in videoke bars in little nooks and crannies of Central. And no, Born Free is not part of the repertoire. More of Carpenters and Abba.
  
• If you are invited for a couple of parties on a single day, expect to eat loads of pancit from sunup to sundown.
  
• The nominal wage now of foreign domestic workers in HK is HK$280 less than 1999. Real wage is most probably much less.
  

Alright, that last bit is not really trivial. It may even be one of the major reasons why I'm still here after 10 years … and why I may still be here for 10 more.

30+

So I'm 30+.

If it wasn't for the fact that I spent my morning until 10:00 am or so answering texts and FB messages, I wouldn't really have thought much that it was my birthday. Being in a whole day meeting could do that.

Marking your 30^th I can understand for life shall begin after 10 more years – or so they said. With the 31^st, it's the fact that you are in your last digits with the Gregorian calendar. With 30+ … well it's like anything goes from now on.

Thanks to Kiks for the flattering and even more unflattering pics. (Tse! I'll get you for those two months from now!)

Thanks to friends and comrades who were there to eat and drink even for a few hours.

Thanks to those who greeted.

Thanks to those who believed I was 30.

Thanks to my mom who got speechless when I thought of her coming birthday instead of mine.

Thanks to the passion and fire I still have to continue for the years to come.

So I turned 30+. Big deal.

Just meant I got a +.

A soft start

Now I realize blogging is not like riding a bicycle or sex. It is not something that once you learn how to do, it comes back easily enough to you even after a long period of break.

A lot has happened for the past two months that to write about them seems like a futile exercise now. Moreover, it seems impertinent to even think that anyone will be interested on how I buried myself in my work and how I sort of slid back to my old self before blogging beckoned and before my interest in social networking – real and virtual – kinda picked up again.

There has been no epiphany or something of that sort that led me to click that 'new post' button again after 60 days of not really caring about what will become of this blog. There's also nothing in particular I really want to write about except maybe the new appointment to the OWWA Board of Trustees that GMA made – details of which can be read at http://www.petitiononline.com/owwa4ofw/petition.html

But since the link is already here, there is no point in writing about it again. Yet.

I did find interesting though the photo exhibition of a friend of mine that I visited a few hours ago at the Goethe-Institute. She vividly captured the images and colors of Filipino migrants as they while away their dayoff on pavements, roads and footbridges of Central.

The scenes were so familiar to my eyes for I live them every Sunday. Familiar and, at the same time, quietly reaffirming: there's a community and a whole way of life that thrives and will continue to strive for as long as a decent living cannot be had in our own land.

Anyhow, it'll probably take a few more takes before my blogging mojos completely come back. But since bicycles and sex are hard to come by from where I am sitting right now, I'll be happy to wait.

A question on independence

(This was printed in the June issue of the community newspaper True Friends. They requested me to write my thoughts on Independence day.)

Considering that there was a time in our history when the question of whether Philippine Independence Day started on 12^th June 1898 or 4^th July 1946 was raised, I cannot help but ask: are we really sure of our independence?

Some will probably say that it is a very simple matter for such a serious question. Some may even stop reading this article now thinking that it's a too serious topic to spend your free time with. Still others may ask the same question.

Since I started learning about Philippine history in school – which in the larger part was more of memorizing names, dates and places – I've been led to embrace the idea that Philippine Independence Day started there at the balcony of Gen. Emilio Aguinaldo's mansion in Kawit, Cavite. An event perfectly pictured in the two-peso bill I grew up with.

I am pretty sure that anyone who has ever heard of Magellan, Lapu-Lapu and Andres Bonifacio knows that we have been colonized by Spain. As well, I am confident that anyone who has ever heard of the Philippine-American War, Macario Sakay, and the term 'benevolent assimilation' knows that we have also been colonized by the United States of America (USA).

But what I may doubt is that anyone who has ever heard of the Bell Trade Act, parity rights, US-RP Military Bases Agreement, Visiting Forces Agreement, World Trade Organization and war on terror knows or even believes that we have never really strayed far from US' control.

Celebration of Independence Day does give us a sense of history. But history did not stop in Kawit, Cavite on June 12, 1898 nor when the US supposedly granted us freedom on July 4, 1946.

Independence is not only the freedom to wave your own flag or even speak your own language. Independence is not also merely having a Filipino as head of state or conducting rounds after rounds of elections. It is also not merely about having a defined territory. It is neither just a mere date nor a picture in a now forgotten bill.

It is the liberty to chart the country's destiny, to have sovereignty over own resources, and to make decisions and policies free from foreign dictates.

Based on these, if I may ask again: are we really sure of our independence?

If we are, then we probably do not have a proposed Charter Change that'll give up our resources for other nations to take over. We probably do not have US troops roaming all around the country – free to enter and leave – in the name of joint military exercises. Daniel Smith probably will still be in jail.

Probably, Nora Aunor wouldn't have shouted "My brother is not a pig!" in the movie Minsa'y Isang Gamu-Gamo after her brother was shot dead by US military men who mistook him as a wild boar.

Probably, the more than 3,000 Filipinos who are forced to go abroad just to survive will not be at the airport everyday.

Probably, not everyone knows who Mickey Mouse is.

Also, probably all of those who have been president of the country would not have hurried over to speak before the US Congress and pledge support and cooperation with the US as soon as they got elected.

In many ways, we are still in the tight grip of the US. Our economy is still dominated by US investments, our trade is dependent on the needs of US and other more powerful countries, our country is neck-deep in debts to the IMF and World Bank that are controlled by the US, and our culture and mindset are very much Americanized.

After growing up believing in Independence Day, waving mini-flags and dressing in barong tagalog, it may really be hard to believe and, more so, to accept that our independence has been more in words and less in practice.

But then again, starting to question what we have been led to believe is probably the best way to get us working for the real thing.

So if someone asks me if we should celebrate our Independence Day on June 12 or on July 4, I will probably answer: soon, I hope.