We were all preparing for an out of town trip. I can’t recall where we were all headed but everyone was there. My aunts, my uncles, my cousins. We were all busy packing our clothes into our bags when the cabs which were supposed to us to the airport arrived at where we were.
My aunts, uncles and cousins hopped on to the first vehicle, which looked like a minivan. And they left. My brother, his wife, and his son rode the next vehicle. Along with their clothes and other necessities, they had to bring a lot of the toys of the little man.
Papa and Mama were next. But before they could ride the cab, Papa was looking for his tablet, which he needed with him (oddly though my dad does not use a tablet in real life). After we found it somewhere in the house, my wife and I helped him and my mom load their things on to the car, and then saw them leave for the airport. Continue reading →
2015 was not an easy year. Unlike previous years which presented only their fair share of challenges and difficulties but leaves the order of your life relatively unscathed, this one changed mine a lot. And while I do know that I do not have the monopoly of melancholy and grief, I would say that that the year brought changes unsurprisingly and early on.
Just a few days after I celebrated my 35th birthday in February, I lost my only sister to pneumonia before I was even able to see her for one last time in Davao City. A few months prior to her leaving, we had a long conversation on her having lymphoma and how she was able to look for solutions and was determined to see things through.
Confident, we thought that Stage 2 was something she can deal with easily. Contrary to our expectations though, it was the complications which pulled her down and slowly sapped her life away. Continue reading →
It’s been seven months since my sister Sorene left us. And while we have slowly been adjusting to life without her, there are certain circumstances where we still wonder how things might have been if she were still with us. Since she left, the extended family in Cagayan de Oro has celebrated birthdays where her presence was significantly missed. Continue reading →
My sister Sorene was never your usual silently-obedient type. She was never one who would just concede to your ideas without you exerting an effort to convince her of what you have in mind. No, she was not like that. She was never like that.
Sorene was not an easy sibling to live with. She was head strong, aggressive and fiercely proud. She would never bow down to you if you don’t deserve it. And she would never think you deserve it if you have not earned it.
We always had a love-hate relationship as brother and sister. And our differences started early when we had a pig, with whom I had grown fond of, slaughtered and prepared for Sorene’s baptism. I was only four years old at that time. And I felt bad with what happened.
A couple of years after that though, I had one of my life’s biggest scares when Sorene was admitted to a hospital in Cebu City for high fever. We had just moved in to join Papa after he was assigned there for work. And there we were in a hospital room with Sorene on the bed. I worried much about her, so much so that I slept beside her on her bed, only leaving her side to eat and clean myself up. Continue reading →
In less than 24 hours, I will be leaving Cagayan de Oro again to return to Quezon City, where my field of expertise reaps compensation more proportionate to its weight than what I would be offered if I choose to make a living of my skills in the city of my birth.
It is never easy leaving your family for several months. Especially if you belong to a family like mine which is small and closely-knit – with members meeting everytime one has a cause for celebration.
In my own direct family, my siblings, as well as my father, have professions which require them to travel to different parts of this 7,107 archipelago. Unlike them though, I do not have the capability to go home on weekends.
“First step in solving any problem, is recognizing there is one.” – Will McAvoy
Short as this line maybe, but it has stuck with me since I first watched The Newsroom. And although I might be watching the season finale in a few hours, I think this line will stay with me long after the series’s first season is done.
I must be honest though, I was not among those who waited for the season premier. And this was due to the words of critics who were not impressed with the first episode. But I decided to watch it anyway and that’s where I got hooked.
I’ve had my share of Sorkin films and series since then. A Few Good Men inspired me (partly) to go into law school. I tried to watch the West Wing as much as I could. And of course, Charlie Wilson’s War will always be my quick recommendation to someone who’s still in the dark as to how the American government saved and nourished Al Qaeda and the Taliban in Afghanistan.
The Newsroom is Sorkin’s indictment of the prevailing state of journalism or the lack of it. In the series he tried attacking how the newsrooms succumbed to the pressure exerted by ratings wars, management intrusions, and bastardization of editorial independence. He also tried to differentiate between journalism and journalism.
A few days ago, I posted a story from Al Jazeera on endangered languages in the Philippines and I still can’t get it off my head. A couple of weeks before that I was in a meeting where during the break, there was a discussion on how the Ilocano or Iloko language was slowly eating up non-Ilocano-speaking areas in some parts of Luzon. One of those present said that areas in Pangasinan which then predominantly spoke Pangasinense, were now speaking Ilocano. While he spoke Ilocano, he regretted that he has lost his knowledge of Pangasinense, which he knew back then as a child.
This phenomenon of widely-used or more popular languages eating up community-based languages is not actually new in the Philippines. But it is only recently that the dangers posed by this phenomenon to local languages are seen and taken into account by the national government. Back then, the emphasis was more on having a single common language called Filipino – which in reality was Tagalog, with supposedly some words from the other major languages.
Reality though was very different. In the enforcement of Filipino, the other major languages were ridiculed by some who come from Manila as German, Greek or Latin. Cebuano was viewed as the language of the house maid or the uncivilized. The singsong tune of the Bacolod Hiligaynon was joked at quite often. And the accents that Filipinos coming from different regions trying to speak “Filipino” had, would be the subject of scrutiny by native Tagalog speakers in the national capital and its neighboring provinces. The idea of a single Filipino language had become a tool of oppression of other Filipino languages. Continue reading →