Repost: The World Has Gone Crazy

Now I take time off from my self-centered rants to repost a blog entry that needs to be read by
more people.

From Bambee dela Paz's blog (highlights are mine):


Vicissitude: The world has gone crazy.

So, I just had the worst day of my life.

At around 1:30 PM today, at Valley Golf and Country Club, Antipolo City, Mayor Nasser Pangandaman, Jr., Mayor of Masiu City, Lanao del Sur, his father, Secretary Nasser Pangandaman of the Department of Agrarian Reform, and company, beat my defenseless 56-year-old dad and my 14-year-old brother to a pulp because of some stupid misunderstanding on the golf course.

This is a golf course. I have been a golfer all my life, and I have never seen anything like this. NOTHING. This is hard to comprehend. And it happened to my own father and my own brother too. Right in front of my eyes.

My brother and I were playing golf at the South Course of Valley. We were on the 3rd hole, and we see two golf carts going past us, overtaking our flight, and setting up to tee off on the next hole. My dad goes up to them and asks them why they would do that, why they would overtake us without even asking for our permission. Golf etiquette 101. One of the guys says that they're with the flight in front of us. (So what? That doesn't give them the right to just pass us WITHOUT asking.) So, we go to the 5th hole. The flight behind us catches up with us, and asks us what caused the hold up. We said that this flight just slipped in front of our flight. So we complained to the marshall. We play the 5th hole and walk towards the next hole, where there is a teehouse, and both the flights in front of us were there, talking with the marshall. The mayor of Masiu City, Lanao del Sur talks with my dad. Things get heated up. Voices were raised. But never, in my wildest dreams, did I ever imagine that someone would pull out a punch. Apparently not. He attacks my father. His flightmates, maybe 2 or 3 of them, rush to his aid and beat up my father. My 56-year-old father. My younger brother and I could not just watch. We rushed to break the fight. My younger brother pleads to the mayor to please stop it. To not hurt my dad. To just stop. His words still ring through my head..."Sorry na po, sorry na po...tama na...tama na po..." With his hands in front of his chest in a praying position. PLEADING. The mayor socks him in the face. My brother defended himself. My dad is still on the ground getting clobbered. My brother is the same way. I try to stop the fight, but all I can do is stop one person. There were 4 or 5 of them attacking now.

Someone breaks up the fight. I thought it was all over. The mayor shouts to his caddy: "Hindi nila kami kilala! Sabihin mo nga sa kanila kung sino ako!" And believe me, I had no idea who this person was. But now I know. He's the person who, with 4 other men, beat up my 56-year-old father and my 14-year-old brother. He's the person who sacks a pleading 14-year-old kid in the face. He's a person who, I am sure, is gonna rot in hell.

I lash out, but my dad held me back. I was screaming my lungs out, shouting to this mayor, telling him about what he had done. I said: "Nakakahiya kayo. Singkwenta'y sais anyos ang tatay ko. And kapatid ko kakatorse anyos. Anong ilalaban nila sayo?"

The mayor looks at my brother, point to his face, and says, "Tatandaan kita!" And he tells me that my brother has a bad attitude and that I need to watch him. WHAT THE HELL?! So, my brother's bad for defending his father?!

We leave. We walk to the clubhouse to file a complaint. My brother asks for a doctor. My dad could barely walk. Their group comes to the clubhouse, sees my brother. Once again my brother pleads, says sorry, and is crying. He was CRYING, for crissakes. But no. The relentless mayor still punches him in the face, and then sees my dad and goes after my dad again. Him and his friend pull my dad to the ground, pulls at his feet, and steps on him like he's dirt. I run to him and try to hold him back, holding him back by his shirt, while this other guy and this girl tries to stop me. She tells me to just stop it. I scream in her face "they're beating my father up and you want me to stop?!" I pull at his shirt--I don't let go. All I can see was my dad being trampled on. I didn't even see my brother getting beat up.

People pull them away. I get my dad, and I saw my brother. His right ear was bleeding. I freaked out. I told the receptionists to bring my brother to the clinic. I pull my dad away. People were separating us.

My mom and my older brother come. I tell her Bino's right ear is bleeding. They both look like they could kill. My dad holds my brother off, I hold off my mom. When I finally got my mom under control, my older brother gets away and I hold him off. Two of the mayor's bodyguards pull out guns. I embraced my brother from the back, just holding him back, crying. The receptionists came to us, crying, hugging me, my dad, and my mom, whispering to us to just leave. "Maam, umalis na po kayo, may mga baril sila...Maam...umalis na po kayo please..."

I am pretty sure the Secretary of DAR did not take part in the fight, but he just watched all this happen. He watched two of his sons, as we figured out, the other guy was his son, too, beat up my father and my 14-year-old brother. He didn't do anything to stop it. And this person is what now? A cabinet member. A politician.

Sounds like something out of a movie, doesn't it? But this is what happened. TODAY. The day after Christmas. To my family. And all I ask for is JUSTICE. The people at Valley Golf did not seem to want to help us. None of the security guards even tried to stop the fight. Right in the clubhouse. I came back after the fight was over and talked to the receptionists. They say they did not see anything. The general manager of Valley Golf would not give us the names of the men who made my brother's ear bleed. It took him an hour. Maybe even more than that. He seemed to not want to help us. Because, we were against the SECRETARY OF THE DEPARTMENT OF AGRARIAN REFORM and the MAYOR OF MASIU CITY, LANAO DEL SUR. They were all scared.

The world has gone crazy. Two politicians beat up a defenseless 56-year-old father and his 14-year-old son. At a golf course. I swear to God, I thought golfers were decent people. You would think politicians were decent people. I guess not. I guess they gang up on 56-year-old men and beat up pleading 14-year-old kids.

Please pray for my dad, my brother and for my whole family. Please pray that we get JUSTICE. Oh God, please, give these people what they deserve.

A Promise to be Fine in 12 Hours

Maybe because I hope a little too much, expect a little too soon, believe a little too often. Maybe because I just never learn, never pause before the plunge, never thought to make a plan much less plan B. But I never really know when a piece of me is enough, a single serving just right. How is it to quantify oneself so as not to give too much?

It's been a series of disappointments, one after another. And each time I berate myself for being stupid, for not knowing any better, or more often for knowing and yet allowing myself to be stupid anyway. It can get very tiring. Really. Being stupid is not what they said it is. Oh, I think that's ignorance. A close relative though so one would expect them to have the same effect.

So yeah. I was stupid yet again. And as always it ended in this, a tired refrain of bitterness and pain. Allow me this for tonight. I promise not to indulge in it for long, as always, a promise I give myself whenever this happens. So yes, I will be fine.

All Saints' Day '08

Long overdue All Saints' Day pictures. Forgive me.

Free Online Calendar for Families, Schools, Churches and more

http://famundo.com
Manila is probably the world's most planner-crazy city. To find proof of that, one only needs to visit any Starbucks store during Christmas season. In line are card-clutching yuppies obsessively counting the number of cups to go before being able to finally possess the much-coveted planner for the next year.

I am, of course, not immune to the planner-frenzy culture of chaotic Manila. I looove planners! Maybe it's the illusion of being organized that makes me feel like I couldn't live without one. Or it's an extension rooted from my attachment to notebooks. Unlike regular notebooks though, it's such a pity that one can only have a single planner in a year. Anything more would be indulgent and downright impractical.

Still.

When I stumbled into this online planner, I just had to sign up for it despite the fact that I already have an actual physical planner which serves its purpose pretty well. See, if you have TWO physical planners, that's indulgent. But! If you have one in real life and one in cyberlife, it totally makes sense!

Because an online planner will make it so much easier for you and your friends to compare calendars and plan activities together. An online planner can be accessed anytime anywhere that has Internet connection. Soon, gone will be the days when you would lug a bulky dog-eared notebook in meetings and frantically search for a pen in your jungle-bag. (No, those days will never really be gone but I'm making a case here so shut up.) Plus, an online planner looks really cool and uh... cosmopolitan. Who doesn't want cool and cosmopolitan, right?

So um, yes. You should all join me there because right now I have no one to compare schedules with and it gets lonely a bit. *sniffs

Christmas 2008 and Birthday 2009 Wishlist

Has it been a year already? Actually, it's been more than a year...

Last year at about this time, I made a Christmas and birthday wishlist (under the assumption that people were just dying to give me gifts, ok I know some of them just felt that they were compelled to, but didn't know what to give me). I now take a quick look at that list to see if I have any of the same material issues or not.

• wi-fi card for laptop --> I don't need this anymore because *ahem, I just bought myself a new notebook computer that's wi-fi ready *ahem *giggles
  
• portable vacuum cleaner, preferably a Black and Decker Dustbuster --> Yes, I still want one. Shucks, it's been more than a year!! I've been pining for this for more than a year now. Have pity, people!
  
• a pack of Sony rechargeable batteries (4 pcs.) --> I already bought myself a 2-pc pack months ago
  
• a comfortable pair of 1.5 wedge-heeled sandals --> Well, a girl can't have too many pairs of shoes, can she?
  
• a bath towel (I know. Times are hard.) --> I think I have enough to last me my entire lifetime. Just about every other person gave me a towel last year because of this post.
• Spanish lessons --> Sure! But I'll have to find the time too. If anyone wants to sponsor this, I'm sure I'll be able to squeeze it in.
  
• Advanced Mandarin lessons --> My generous boss paid for this!! :)
  
• arnis training --> Same as the Spanish lessons.
  
• disposable contact lenses --> Yes, I think I need to buy a new pair soon.
  
• a haircut and hot oil combo --> Just the hot oil will do for now.
  
• a body scrub --> I will never turn down an offer like this.
  
• a full body massage --> ...and this too.
  
• Olay Total Effects facial moisturizer --> Sure. Not a priority though. But yeah, why not?
  
• Body Shop liquid foundation # 6 --> Umm, not now. Any other products from the Body Shop is most welcome though. It would be better to check with me first just so, you know, we can avoid redundancy.
  
• perfume and/or cologne --> I think I have enough for now.
  
• a trip to Bohol/Boracay/Palawan/Sagada (You may suggest some other places. I'm very flexible.) --> Yes, please!!
  
• cash! --> Double yes!!
  

Ha! Because I am too lazy to figure out how to summarize the above list into neat percentages, I will not attempt to. Instead, I will make a new list for this year! I love lists! :D

So aside from some of the items above, you may also give me:

• a new digital camera! Sure, the old one still works fine. But if for some reason you want to give me a sleeker more high-tech model, please let the spirit of Christmas guide you.
• a slim, portable external CD drive (preferably a DVD writer too). For the new notebook computer. *giggles
  
• a white leather bag. I have been looking for the perfect one for a really long time now. So far, the ones I found are either ok-priced-but-not-to-die-for ones, or super-nice-but-my-conscience-will-never-allow-me-to-buy ones. I suggest that you take me along with you if this is what you want to give me to make sure we get the perfect bag.

Surprise, surprise, I can't think of anything else! So there. Merry Christmas!!

*big hugs again!

I was on Chinese News!

I have very recently downloaded a software that finally enables my computer to type in simplified Chinese through the use of pinyin. Excited and vain, I googled my Chinese name and was very surprised that the search result actually came up with a list of articles mentioning my name. I am not only vain, I am also very paranoid. Thus, my immediate reaction was one of fear. What could they have been saying about me all these years behind my back? And because the level of my Chinese-reading is very low, I could not immediately understand the lines that stared back at me. I chose a link and clicked. I gave the article a scan... Yup, it really was me because aside from my Chinese name, I recognized the characters for "Philippines," "26 years old this year," and a number of other things that made it impossible for the article to be talking about someone else. And well, my English name was also there, albeit misspelled as Jone (come on, people! Four letters!! It's just four letters!).

Irrationally worried, I looked for my bookmarked translator site and deciphered the meaning amidst the literal direct translation of the text. And I breathed a sigh of relief.

I can actually remember that day when the "interview" was conducted. Except at that time I didn't know it was an interview. I thought it was a let's-be-friendly-and-have-a-mindless-conversation small talk. Anyway, that day I think the press was invited to the training camp and watch the national team train. I was told to drop by the shooting range which I did because I was curious. Note: I was in a very ratty t-shirt. And then the small talk with the journalist, whom I had met before because she would do translation services for the team when a foreign resource speaker sometimes came and whom I didn't even know was a journalist (I thought she was a translator!) until much later. But there were cameras, yes. The cameras must have given me a clue that it was a news-worthy day.

So fastforward to a day more than two years after when I downloaded google pinyin. I can imagine now how it must have been a tad interesting to have a foreign girl with broken Chinese teaching English to the national shooting team. I found the same "news" with slight variations in a number of sites and reprinted below one of them:

请外国教练“另类备战” 中国射击队刮起英语风 Aug 13 2006

晨报讯“这是气步枪，这个叫手枪……”昨天上午，在当天的射击奥运模拟赛开赛之前，国家射击队总教练王义夫领着一个外国女孩出现在北京射击场，两个人一边参观场内的设备，一边用英语和汉语进行着交流。

    这个被王义夫戏称为“教你”的菲律宾女孩英文全名叫ＪｏｎｅＣｈａｍ，她还有一个中文名字叫詹心帆。

    今年26岁的她在菲律宾时是个语文老师。一年前，她来到中国，在辽宁铁岭的一家外语学院任教。半个月前，她看到网上关于中国射击队招聘英语老师的信息，就 把自己的简历投了过来。“我现在还在试用期。”Ｊｏｎｅ用不太流利的中文向记者介绍，“过了三个月的试用期，我才可以和他们签合同，合同期应该是一年。”

    谈到对射击队员的印象时，Ｊｏｎｅ用“很好，他们很爱学习”来形容。谈到对哪个队员印象深刻时，Ｊｏｎｅ歪着脑袋想了几秒钟，笑道：“他们的中文名字我记不清了。”这时，男子手枪选手徐坤走了过来，Ｊｏｎｅ兴奋地说，“他的英语还不错！”

        “英语老师一周大致会给我们上两节课，每次一到两个小时。平时，我们遇到不明白的地方或者与射击有关的词汇，都会问她。”一名小队员告诉记者。

    记者在射击队一名工作人员手中看到一个印着英文的小本，上面分为专用名词、常用词汇、图例等几部分，包含了很多射击方面的单词，也有日常交际用的词汇。

       “对运动员来讲，光会打枪是不行的。文化、思想道德都得抓。”王义夫告诉记者，他鼓励教练、队员平时和英语老师对话时尽量用英语，“以前我们到 国外比赛，语言不通耽误了很多事情。亚运会即将来临，奥运会前还有很多国际大赛，射击队不能再当哑巴和聋子了，把外语学好，起码在赛场上能听懂人家说什 么。”

(彭帆)

(责任编辑：海盗)

http://sports.sohu.com/20060813/n244765703.shtml

Except for minor changes in the format and adding the date, that was how it appeared exactly. I could attempt at a translation, but I'm too lazy. One little complaint though, I wasn't a "language teacher" when I was in the Philippines. I was teaching Literature! There IS a difference. Hmp.

Light Years and Love Lost in the Oleanders by Alane Rollings

Rating:	★★★★★
Category:	Other

I found an old tattered piece of paper stuck between the pages of an old journal while I was home in Valenzuela and going through forgotten things. I suddenly remembered how much I wept over these lines at a time when I was young and heartbroken. I'm posting it here for old time's sake. And because it really is such a good poem.


Light Years and Love Lost in the Oleanders
By Alane Rollings

Does my voice reach you? You are
as silent as a star and as incompanionable.
And I have done my research on these things.
I have spent many hours with the delicate turquoise amphibians
who live under sundials. They outnumbered me.
I was barely in touch with the sky, then.
I spent my days waiting for that one bit of good news
that would turn my life around.
You. Your charms, your hesitations. No one needs to tell me
how well everyone remembers you.
But have I told you about my arms, my half-healed embraces?
The disarray of my life is no longer too personal to share,
though I still can’t remember much of what I did before,
who I went out with, how much I missed.
I’m told I spent the days reading the exotica painted on cigar boxes,
and the nights over small distress messages on computer printouts.
Anyway, I’m sorry if you got the idea that I was in control.
Wasn’t I running out of the room to cry or be sick or something
when I saw you? I remember a light unwinding over my head,
and other kindnesses I’d never have done for myself.
I noticed the distance in your voice, your eyes.
You gave me gin and ginger for my stomach,
and if there was nothing to celebrate, we were
deliberate about it, like those accustomed to their own fragility.
Your astonishing stories floated in like graceful fleets,
and I did believe you had beautiful ancestors with beautiful titles.
Don’t ever tell anyone how you do it.

I think now that I understand
the things some women make their happiness of—
the water that waits in seashells, questions that silence themselves—
I no longer tell people about you
hoping to make them think more of me.
And I will not come to you anymore for sedatives,
you from whom I borrowed my life.
I will offer you green silence and solitude
and a belief in everything.
I remember a little more now. I was a long way off.
I had nightmares in dead languages and sailboats in my backyard
that ran off to sea night after night
looking for stars that had fallen light years and light years ago.
So you see why I can’t let you pass through my life.
I suppose that you, too, have escaped in every direction,
have heard the swish of nickel and iron beneath you,
and you are no more flattered by my attraction than the center of the earth is.
But I am looking for the glare that lives
in gardens deeper than mirrors. I am hoping
that you will complete my past. Give me silent embraces,
the quiet transitions that love will put us through,
and I will only wish I’d also known you
when you were young and waiting under the lime trees
for one sweet word to fall.
I'd have been the kind of girl
you'd have bothered with.