kamsahamnida

The MASCKS’ presentation Du Mal Au Bien went quite well yesterday. Although there were quite a number of minor errors particularly the opening and closing of curtains, I can profess that I am satisfied with how it turned out. It wouldn’t be possible to put up such a play in a hurry as we did hadn’t we received help from the different sides of the coast. Hehe.

III-4
My advisory class has been supportive of me lately. I don’t know if they already feel what is going in my mind for quite some time. Aside from the fact that they invite me to eat out almost every afternoon without asking for anything in return (I hope...hehe), they expressed genuine enthusiasm in helping the MASCKS production. We encountered short budgets(for paint, and food) along the way but I’m glad that they didn’t desert me. They wouldn’t dare I know...hehe.

The Props team: Feliche, Marian, Kim, Heidi, Myca, Lynell, JD, Alex, Dixon, KLO, Sarah, Stephanie, Allana, Danica, Alain, Janie, Kathy, Tiffany

I witnessed how the different peer groups in my class unite to create the gigantic castle for the play. I witnessed them get dirty, splashed with paints. I saw them get irked by their bossy classmates. But after finishing the castle, and after the performance, I saw them smile, humbly yet proudly.

It broke my heart when I learned that they had to spend their money for the props. They missed their classes, sometimes their snacks. They exposed themselves to the harmful effects of the paint which in the first place is the reason they had to use to corridors of the 3rd floor of the main building. It broke my heart too when some people asked them not to listen to music, their only leisure. I felt disappointed that some turn a blind eye to my student’s sacrifices yet add up another ear to listen and criticize their noise.

I know we received different feedbacks as regards the castle. I don’t exactly know why but i can;t help but grin, thinking that our critiques could only gnash their teeth at us. There is more to that castle than what they saw, more than the offending odor of paint they could smell. As for me I can see the finger prints my advisory class embedded there as they had applied the paint using their bare hands (we did not have a sufficient supply of paint brushes).

The Silent workers: Nico, Jotham

Nico helped us in the first day we started working on the pillars. His effort wasn’t that recognized but i am glad he had the initiative to help in the time of need.
I am quite sure I gave Jotham’s name for the credit list. It was just sad his donation, 2 boxes of bottled water, wasn;t recognized. In my heart, I am sincerely thankful of him.

The performers: Grace, Jolly, Jimcen

Although they weren’t recognized as part of the major characters, these three contributed to the success of the production. I know that without them the presentation would be very different. Thanks to Grace, for showing a totally different side of her, to Jolly, for exuding confidence and grace in her performance, to Jimcen, for giving his best without asking to be appreciated.

My class in general: although some of them weren;t able to help, probably they were just busy doing something else or they couldn’t think of other ways to help us, I am still thankful that they didn;t make themselves a burden to me at the time that I felt I was carrying the weight of the world on my shoulders.

III-5 Xyncoz
It is my fault that I doubted their loyalty. Because of an unwanted competition and issues, I hadn’t asked for their help in the preparation of the MASCKS presentation. I indeed avoided those issues, but I inflicted pain to those who sincerely wanted to help me. All I can say is sorry. I didn’t mean any harm. I realized that I should not be blind and insensitive to their willing hearts.

I am still grateful of them since all throughout the preparation, I could ask for their refuge. They made my two weeks light. They lessened the load of being a teacher by behaving a little bit properly than they used to when we first met. I regret that I appreciate their help a little bit too late. I can only promise to make it up to them. How I don;t know. But i am going to make it up. Hehe

III-6 Unitrix

My beloved class who has witnessed my tears of joy and sadness. I have been with them for two years already and the feeling doesn’t change. They make me smile. They end my day right. For the first months of this school year, I tried hard not to compare the love I feel for them and the love i feel for my advisory class. Just then I realized that there was no reason for me to avoid comparing because they cannot be compared. My love for III-4 is like a love of a mother for her real first born baby. My love for this class is like a love a friend, one out of trust tried and tested through years.

Once again, that trust was tested and we succeeded it magnificently. They were assigned to do the Chinese temple and the fountain, both were highly appreciated by the audience. Sure we encountered problems including the remaking of the fountain which at first was a flat thing made of Styrofoam only. When they heard that we were supposed to have an almost real fountain, I know they were quite disheartened because their efforts had been in vain. Still, they did not stop thinking of another idea.

The next problem we encountered was how we were supposed to make the Chinese temple stand. Bless them for their resourcefulness because before the day before the presentation ended, they were able to procure an object to support the entire material. They even agreed upon the persons who were to hold it from behind.
What makes me appreciate them more is the fact that I had not begged the whole class to help me but they did. Of course I could not put all of the III-6 students’ names in the exception list so I listed only 20 but during my period when we were supposed to create the props, all of them worked, sweated and dirtied.

I am grateful of the fact that these students weren’t even a part of my advisory class yet they exerted the effort as if they were. Like III-4, the bore the pressure that our task required of us. At the end of the day, the day of the presentation itself, they were there from the start to the end from the last minute practice down to packing up of props(to which I am especially grateful of Kervin).

__________________________________
My words aren’t enough as a replacement for my students’ effort, love and trust. I am not even sure if money or grades would suffice. Du Mal Au Bien wouldn’t be successful if not for my students. They materialized my dreams. They are the realization of the hidden ideas stuck in my head. To tell you the truth...i don't have any idea how to finish this blog...

Yup... No idea...

On Noynoy's Polad

COMELEC turns a blind eye upon infomercials of politicians. The government organization doesn’t consider these ads as a form of political campaign because they are not aired in the campaign period. “Technically,” they are not political campaign ads. Nada. With that we see a big hole in our electoral code. And our dear politicians abusively work this hole to their advantage.

It could have been better if Noynoy had not released a polad to say his visions and promises. It could have been better if he had stoped with his jingle sang by Regine Velasquez and participated by various artists from Kapuso and Kapamilya stations. Why? His recent polad tied him up with his adversaries. And that’s bad.

For me, Noynoy’s commercial is a pathetic response to Villar’s farce campaigns. It is just an attempt to recapture the nation’s ardore. It serves as a mere assurance that he is not left behind in surveys or in the election.

He doesn’t even sound sincere to me. He sounds like any veteran politician promising a wonderful future without poverty and corruption. What is worse is he includes his parents in his advertisement. All I can say is no matter what his parents did doesn’t guarantee what he can do for the Philippines.

But hey, I’m not totally against him. I am only disappointed when I saw that he doesn’t have any difference from the other politicians so hungry for power they underestimate the knowledge of the masses that they are supposed to serve. Somehow it is discomforting to know that someone whom you are willing to trust your four years of governance cannot be trusted with a small thing such as political campaign.

unlucky

I was asked to reedit some graduation messages. While reading the almost tear jerking notes of the unknown graduating batch, (unknown since I knew none of them—at least the students whose messages I reedited), I felt how unlucky I was not to have a high school year book and not to write a message for my college classmates.

The preparations for my high school graduation included basking in the sun for hours, singing outdated tunes, bowing to faceless bougainvilleas, and marching to the beat of the almost synchronized beat drums. Yearbook? Nah. It was just an additional preparation, an additional pocket driller. And I bet nobody from my class was cheesy enough to suck the idea. Nobody aside from me.

I was luckier when I got to college—we had. A decent one actually. I have to be biased since my friend was the editor of the yearbook. And I helped in editing some of the parts of the black and silver hard-bound keeper of memories. I wasn’t as excited about it as I would have been if all of us were to give our messages. I knew back then that it was impossible since it was hard enough to edit the yearbook with only the names, achievements, addresses, and life-quotes. What more if everyone would put in a 2-3-sentence message?

After finishing the editing of those messages I thought that it was for the best. After all I couldn’t imagine myself reading those cheesy messages. I couldn’t even think of what to write to begin with. Lastly, my sincerity in dealing with my classmates couldn’t be measured by those 3 liner messages. I can still say I am unlucky for not experiencing the yearbook as how high school students are supposed to experience them. But it all ends to that.

early anticipation of birthday gift

Harry Potter is on the move and I am not daunted in any way whether or not eclipse will be shown in the same month. All I care about is to give myself a perfect birthday gift. And I’m going to get it, I know.

I am not thinking of splurging for my birthday. At the rate that I am spending money, any time this school year I will be bankrupt sometime in April. What I thought of giving myself is watching HP7 with someone dear to me.

When I was in third year college, I watched HP5 with Kenneth James dela Paz. It was just after my student teaching in Caloocan science High School when I decided to watch the film and I intended to watch it alone. Then I received a text message from Neko asking me if I wanted to watch HP. As far as I can remember he didn’t know it was birthday.

In the showing of HP6, I had series of mental and cardiac problems. Therefore, I don’t have any idea, yep, until now, what the movie is like—not that I don’t know what it is all about. Also, I didn’t have somebody worthy enough to accompany me to the cinema. Last but not the least, it wasn’t my birthday when it was shown.

I couldn’t show my happiness when my co-teacher told me yesterday that the first installment of HP7 is going to be shown this July. What luck?—or fate? Hehe. Learning this I immediately texted the one I trust so much and asked if i will be given a perfect gift for my birthday. I’m still waiting for his answer. Well, I can’t blame him. July is still a long way. I should not expect him to give me a “yes or no” in snap.

But since I saw that episode in the tagalized version of full house, I couldn’t help envying Jessie for receiving gifts on her birthday. Argh. I wish I could pull the days. Huhu..and another wish: he’ll be my birth day gift.

seeing slamdunk and falling out of love

Back when I was in high school, I used to get addicted to the anime Slam Dunk. I used the internet to search for “facts” about the anime. I found much later that I was hooked to the fanfictions written about Sam Dunk as well. To think, I even followed sites for forum to check whether Rukawa is gay or not.

I remember one time, my seatmate/neighbor/music video partner/chatmate/comrade Ryia and I cut classes to watch Slam Dunk in her house. The episode was about Megane-kun/kogure. We also made “scrapbooks” and traded cards and stickers.

In my case, the manic disease got worse. For several times, I attempted to create a fanfiction featuring Akira Sendoh. Such futile attempts—up until now, I still plan to continue with it but I lost the creative juices and the time long ago. I only ended up having a character sketch. I even decided to trash the whole idea. I only have the plot with me now.

But that doesn’t mean I don’t love Slam Dunk anymore. I still watch its Tagalized version in GMA7 even though we already have the dvd version of it. Hihi. I still have akira sendoh as my standard of a good guy. I don’t know where that actually came from. From time to time I think of the would-be fanfiction for it.

Probably the addiction gradually wears off once maturity sets in. Since I’m an immature person, a part of me still clings to the anime world and the other half is already in what Holden calls a phony world. Phony but more realistic.

being organized for the sake of lappy

.since lappy is here, i can't find any reason for me not to organize my files. from pictures, to vids, to literature. so, i'm proud to annonce that i made a new blogspot acct to store my essays, poems, and stories.

for those who are checking my blog (i know a few who do--pity them..hehe peace) for literary pieces if you find them literary enough for your taste, just go to www.walaakongkwenta.wordpress.com or walaakongkwenta.deviantart.com, or yet www.inkspillsandblots.blogspot.com

For those who are used to my usual rants, don't you worry--or should i say, worry..hehe-- i will still be using this as a sort of breather (feeling sikat lang kumbaga hehe)

ciao..

along the hallway

to forgive and forget is not as easy as they say.

when you would meet the person whom you used to love, quote-unquote, who did not care for you, who betrayed your trust, you would still feel the pain. You would still try to blot his exsitence by not looking at him and walking on. you would still not meet his eyes. and who cares if he would or not try to capture your attention. you would just move away. then you would pray that you had not seen him. and he had not seen you.

you would pretend you were not affected. you would laugh, smile, chat. You would be merry. But you knew you weren't. because you were thinking of him. all day. and you were torn.

because all along you thought you had forgiven and forgotten. but you haven't moved on.

wahahaha

another escapade accomplished by the pardners...hekhek

terrific trio--one of those uncelebrated anniversaries

8 November 2005-- we were formed because of an aim to serve the PNU community through an honest election. We weren't united because of the thick bond called friendship, but a strong purpose to serve. But we ended up fulfilling our duties to the students and to one another and we, Grace Ann S. Estores, Katherine E. Vera, and I, became friends.

We started our journey together when we promised to hold on and keep the spirit of the once-dying-PNU-COMELEC. In that dark room, bereft of electricity, left by the "trusted" Chairman, we made vows of building the organization, returning it to its stature. With those vows, we committed ourselves to a relationship that neither distance nor ideologies could break but challenge.

It took us series of tribulations to measure the strength of our friendship. After four years, I am glad to find that we still have each other to cry upon, to share. Distance and ideologies are still our best antagonists but they don't keep us apart that much.

Of course it is natural that since we aren't in the same school and organization now, we live separate lives. We have our secrets we dare not reveal each other but that is a part of friendship--honoring each other. We respect and trust one another so much that we need not know every thing. We value our bond more than we value our individual differences.

A year passed with its silent celebration. Another year will turn. Another year will witness how far our friendship can go. Nobody can say whether we will drift closer or apart. But we can always choose. As for me, as long as I have the chance, I will make our friendship better.

part II

Joseph

wow nman, hehe

4:00amWorthless

lahat ng galit ko sayo nilagay ko dun..hehe

4:01amJoseph

grbe k nman!

4:01amWorthless

basahin mo muna kaya bago ka magreact noh

hehe

4:04amJoseph

nku, d q lam kng anu ssbhin q..

4:05amWorthless

nbasa mo na

4:13amJoseph

yup

4:14amWorthless

ok

4:15amJoseph

hndi q tlga lam kng anu ssbhin sau.. nhhya aq

tonight i'm falling and i can't get up

Worthless

hello

musta mr blue

3:18amJoseph

hi!

3:19amWorthless

tuloy ba tayo sa lunes

3:25amJoseph

d q p po sure e

3:25amWorthless

ok

3:27amJoseph

sna po ok aq nun

3:28amWorthless

how i wish...

yahoo moment

One of the rewards in studying is being remembered by a 71-year old professor and that is exactly what I received last Saturday. I was able to answer questions about Pablo Neruda’s “ The United Fruit Company, Inc.” and Somerset Maugham’s “Rain.” At the end of that day Professor Venancio Mendiola finally remembered my name.

I consider it as a reward basically because he’s in his prime. Some people forget names easily and people in his age forget almost every thing. Secondly, he is a renowned professor in Literature and Translation and anybody whom he recognizes surely feels proud. Aside from that, I don’t think he still remembers me in my Undergraduate subject, Translation of Educational texts.

Thirdly and most importantly, it is a reward because it gives me the satisfaction of studying again. When I was in my undergraduate course, I made sure I recited every now and then and contributed something to the classroom discussions. In the first 2 weeks of my Masters’ classes, I found it hard to recite because I couldn’t relate. I knew already that Professor Mendiola speaks 5 languages but it was quite unnerving to feel that my classmates spoke in a jargon that I was quite unfamiliar of. Suffice it to say that I had felt quite insecure before I recited last Saturday.

After the classes I felt elevated that I found myself half heartedly sorry for having a field trip on the coming Saturday and not being able to participate in the next discussions. Those recitations did boost my confidence level. I am now more motivated than ever, to think that it is Mr. Mendiola’s class.

Interpreting "The Interpreters"

I received the copy of Wole Soyinka’s The Interpreters 2 weeks ago. Little by little, I devour its page until the nagging and persistent boredom attacks me. Bit by bit, I try to understand its meaning. Whether I’m sitting aboard the usual morning jeepney ride, or standing in the LRT, I read it as I used to read C.S. Lewis’ The Chronicles of Narnia. The difference is, I’m quite dead bored. I CANT interpret The Interpreters.

That I am lost somewhere in pages 40-50 after a two-week period of possessing the book is a proof that I am losing the grip of reading it. Of course there are books that lasted up to 3 months before I finish them (like the Fountainhead) but this book is a required reading for me. It is going to be my first report in my Masters’ class. To think that I still have to read tons of short stories and poems, and yep, my second report, James Joyce’s A Portrait of an Artist as a Young Man (immaturely chosen, simply because it is quite familiar).

Yesterday, I had tried to cheat the report by asking Ashyah, if she knew anything about it. She said she knows the plot. She denies up until now to tell the plot since it is my report and I’m responsible for reading it. Guess that’s a fallback of having a super honest friend. Besides, I am not supposed to break what I am trying to teach to my students: READing THE NOVEL.