Ah.. Birthdays. Symbolize birth, beginning, a gift which we don't have a say on. Exactly 16 years ago, a friend, sister, a company, a bestfriend was born. It was a blessing of sorts to her family. But is it really the case?

I met her way back during our golden days as first year high school. It was a typical group project but with untypical, monumental results that up to this knick of time, still haunts me to hallucigenic proportions. Let me share that piece of history. Our MAPEH teacher gave us a project in our lesson in photography to get a picture of picturesque sceneries in the country. Everybody ran amuck with that announcement. Each of us asking how in hell will we do that. Of course we had to comply and our recourse was to go to Luneta {Rizal Park} to take pictures of the locations there.

And I grouped myself with two girls, girls because they are not even discernable women way back then. We went to Luneta without having known how to get there or how to return back, that's what I call adventure. But we made it through, even if we made ourselves walk from Rizal Park up to Malate, Manila. But that walk sparked the friendship that is right now.

To this day, we are still friends. We've been through hell and heaven with the cheers and jeers, through skirmishes and blithe moments. But with her birthday comes the realization that with every beginning, there will always be ends, I hope it won't be bitter just like in the love stories in town.

Birthday, a blissful moment indeed. It's a blessing but also a curse. You have the chance and opportunity to begin but at the same time you must face it with all your mettle and mug that there will be endings.

Celebrating your birthday is one thing, living your life is another. With birthday comes the responsibility sprawling in your shoulders. You must go to school, finish it, if possible with flying colors, marry and be merry. You also have to contend with the onerous responsibility of being a parent or even just being a human. You will also have to grapple with your everyday headaches, too, of course.

But looking at this aspect of life is seeing it as half empty. Life will not be life if it was devoid of those, but that is not the whole story of it. Life is about ourself, living it in the way we wanted it to.

With your seventeenth birthday, you come to the realization of sorts. How much have you done from birth up to now is up to you to ponder. But what is for sure is you made a life for others by being there for them, you made us humans by making us see that you are one.

Your faith has kept you company during the frost of problems, it has made you more human than you think, exuding it in your actions and words. Your smiles have kept your friends warm amid the winter cold problems. Your witticism has etched a simple smile in our hearts in time of trouble. But more importantly you have made us what we are today.

Life is all about choice, its all about options and with these options we choose. This word may now even be enough but I'm sure it will give you a simple joviality. Thanks m' friend! Thanks for choosing me to be a part of your life, thanks for keeping up with me and thanks for coming to my life.

I don't want to make your birthday problematic. May this article be enough to carve me in your heart lest you forget me.

Indeed a birthday celebrant is twice blest, twice curst, contemplating about the financial bills that you will incur.

So what can I say? Let the celebration begin with all the laughter and joy. Make some noise and usher in the food and rum! Happy Birthday Danica!

Of course the rum is always optional just as in life.

Audrey…

Five years ago, people from all walks of life, from the lower class, middle class, to the high class trooped to EDSA to espouse their cause: CHANGE! They demanded the resignation of then President Joseph Estrada. There was noise all over, from the honking of horns to the simple banging of the utensils, just to show their support to the cause and even noise and explosions from the heart which outsounded all the physical ones. This noise awakened the long slumbering spirit of unity in us.

What brought EDSA? Simple clamor for change and message of "we are fed up" with everything that was happening and transpiring during those times. People are sick and tired of an administration and a president, who got the highest number of votes in Philippine election history, who has mangled everything in the society, from the economy, to peace and order up to morality to govern. People are tired of hearing and seeing the president being slumped again to scandal, day by day, from Juetengate to Zippergate II (two because the first one was in the US).

That day we saw Filipinos say enough is enough, we are tired. That day we saw Filipinos make change by their own bare hands and not waiting for it to land on their laps.

But today, after seeing the product of EDSA, is it really worth it, should have we not removed Joseph Estrada from the catapult of power because his successor, but many will argue that she was and is not the president, is far worse, in terms of corruption to immorality in government. Shouldn't we rue that decision to pin our hopes on this woman who instead of reliving the spirit of EDSA lived its utter opposite, opposite best exemplified by the distance between the truth and her government, just like how a columnist put it.

Erap said that there's no cause for celebration because what happened in EDSA unconstitutionally removed him from power. From the words of this pardoned convicted plunderer, he is suggesting that we should bewail his removal. I can't help but cry and bleed to death hearing Erap say "unconstitutional", that's like hearing Satan "heaven".

I don't believe in what the convicted plunderer asseverated. Yes maybe his successor that EDSA produced is far more detestable that him. Yes maybe this successor betrayed the true meaning of EDSA by killing everyone who criticizes her, from journalist to activist. Yes maybe the corruption in this government is far worse than his, raking in millions of pesos in the pockets of crocodiles plus the bonus of culture of impunity.

Only in this country that I see killers being allowed to wander around. Only in this country that I see that if you kill you will instead be rewarded with valor of honor. Only in this country that I see criminals and plunderers being released on the grounds of humanitarian reasons without fathoming that what these felons did and caused to the people is far more inhumane and antithesis to humanitarian reasons that they evoke.

After EDSA, everyone was exuding with hopes that at least this could be the start of the progress of this country, everyone including I. But we were wrong, we were dead wrong. Little did we know that we are up for something worse, or even worst.

But despite these, I still believe that EDSA is still worth celebrating for, or even dying for. It is still a monumental moment in history wherein the Filipinos stood up and took their fate in their hands. It was the time when Filipinos proved to the rest of humanity that indeed we can do it, we can effect change.

Though the administration that benefited with that heavenly act was the very embodiment of evil that besieged this country today, it is still nevertheless an act of heaven (figurative and literal). EDSA should not be gauged by with what it produced but rather with its purpose. It should not be judged with what it has failed to achieve but rather with what it has done and that it to spark a revolution, both in our hearts, minds and in reality.

This revolution of the heart, mind and reality is the best it has achieved, it should be its cause of celebration and revelry. It thawed the ice surrounding the hearts of Filipinos that time. It made them walk, talk and fight. It sparked a fire that is inextinguishable by bullets or armored vehicles.

This was the time when evil produce good. The immorality, indecency and corruption of the Estrada administration made that people move and hold their own destiny. That I think is another cause of celebration. That I think is another cause of revelry.

This was the time when Filipinos admitted that they were weak actually made them strong. This was the time when each of us saw our faults that we were able to rectify it. We were able to sit down and be quite and listen to what is happening around thus, ringing the loudest noise of all and this noise wrung down the corridors of the soul of each of us.

EDSA is the embodiment of the ordinary Filipinos' hunt and quest for a government, a government of the people and for the people. A government that will care and deliver its promises to the people. It was and it is the search for a better Philippines, a better country to live in, a country wherein people won't have to go abroad to feed their family.

EDSA is the key that released every Filipino from the handcuff and shackle of apathy and uninterestedness. It released that's long been incarcerated, clouded and staved out prisoner, our dreams and aspirations. Yes we were able to do that.

But EDSA also serves as a reminder, a constant reminder to each and everyone of us that the fight and not yet over. That our search for a better country to live in is still afloat and buoyed over the fires that wish to engulf and damp it. It is a reminder that we have another battle in front of us and that is more dreaded than the previous one.

I know the fire of revolution in our hearts is still there, waiting to be stoked, waiting to be gassed up as to make again a difference. That this fire will exorcise all the evil in this society be it physically of figuratively. We again are faced with the demons that almost ushered this nation to perdition and we must perorate and vituperate. These demons are again breathing fire on our necks and slowly we are being hued with the apathy and insouciance. This is phlegm that makes us mope on the emetic acts of the government.

Unfortunately evil spirits are not staved away by heavens call alone, it also warrants the creaking voice of our hearts, minds and souls and the light of flame in our eyes.

Indeed EDSA has changed us, it has done us favors but at the same time it spawn responsibility from us, the responsibility to continue what's been started and attain its goal.

And EDSA was the time when Filipinos stood up and were flared up to effect change.

    I've heard of the word idealism for so immeasurable number of time, often from people who are older than me.  And every time I see them propheting their beliefs about this country, I most of the time treat them with a cold snide.  Some of the words that I often see them bewailing are: "Resign!" "Corrupt Official!" "Justice for…!" add to the rally drama is their punching of hand in the air plus with the veins protruding out of their neck's skin.  But I'm sure many like me treat this act with a freezing snob. 

            While growing up, I often think of this people as preposterous and hypocrites for the plain and simple reason of "they are just wasting their time" and I often suggest to myself my answer to their cries "just work for you and your family".  But as I grow up, my views of what they are doing are starting to change.  Maybe my preconceived idea of them is a mope because I am not in their shoes.

            During my first year in college, and until now I'm still a freshman, twice did somebody stepped in our classroom in Santo Tomas prodding and enjoining us to their demonstration.  If I remember it right, the first time was inviting us to join their ranks against the Security Act of 2007, calling it as another way of the government in repressing its critics.  And expectedly, my reaction was a cold snob and deaf ear. 

            The second one happened just recently, this time about the doles sprinkled by Santa in Malacanang Palace.  According to that intrepid schoolmate of mine, it's time to show our fury against the brazen and blatant corruption in the government.  Again, I gave it a cold shoulder, this time I share the pie with my classmate who has little inclination to the present administration. 

            It's not that one side or the other is wrong, it's just plain and simple difference of views, difference of approach to issues.  But this is not ominous, it is rather a good sign that at least somebody out there is not moping in consternation what is happening in the country. 

            I will always remember those two instances, aside from it being my first time, it somehow put a mirror on my countenance and showed me the reality, a reality that at least there are still people who are idealists hoping and groping what is the best for this country.  Since those fateful instances, in such a short time, I've somehow changed my views. 

            I now believe that politics isn't dirty and filthy, it's the people who muddle it.  It's the people involved in dirty politics who give the aura of dirty politics.  How they do it? I don't know.  What I believe, which I think is true is that these people have in them the blackest of all conscience, conscience that reeks that everybody reading and watching news everyday, and night, can smell it.  They are even making Lucifer's job much easier and I can only imagine him spawning in his cozy divan as he watches these people rake it all out, even without his effort.

            Politics for me is, and should be, the arena of the intellectuals, differing in view but still mapping out everything to find a common ground for the people.  It [politics] should be involved with the wisdom of people whose hearts are for the people's service.  That I believe is what etches a man's legacy in history. 

            But I doubt this is present in most of today's politicians' hearts today, and I think Ripley will believe with me in this.  And that leaves the ball on the court of the youth.  This may sound like in tune with what Dr. Rizal said that the "Youth is the Hope of the Motherland".  If Rizal permits, I disagree with him, only if he sees us today I'm sure his countenance will turn sour.  For me, to be consistent with the new millennium, the "Idealist Youth is the Hope of the Motherland".  Many I know will disagree because it may sound like I'm appraising, or even underestimating, the youth of today.  But as days goes on like the flipping of pages in a history book, I become dejected.  Even, again, Ripley wouldn't believe that a young, enjoying himself to death in a bar just for the reason that he has the financial mileage to do it, would be the speck of light of this country in the dark abyss of today.  Or even a student who is skipping classes instead of being grateful that he was given the chance to study by his parents by doing his best and exhausting all his effort to repay this gesture of love.

            The youth will be the next leaders, bankers, economic managers, congressmen, senators and president of this land.  All these budding leaders will have to bear the burden of taking this country out of the mire it is in today.  But we, as youth, will have to have the right mindset, aspirations and ideals for this country.  The instances that I gave above about the two sides of youth, one on the other side of the fence and the other is on the other, could forebode, at least, that some still has the ideals for this country. 

Just this semester, my sociology professor was discussing about the history and beginning of the sociology as a social science.  But one thing caught the my interest, it was the idea of Lester F. Ward, which was published in his book Dynamic Sociology in 1883.  There he proposes that social progress can only be achieved through intelligent social action, not wise.  At that juncture of her lecture, my professor, who has a knack of blurting out punchlines even in the quirkiest of situations, differentiated the two, the intelligent social action from the wise one, which is, sadly, lording over the policies of our leaders, if many will permit me to call them as such, nowadays.    

            We all know many people out here in this, maybe God-forgotten world, are suffering from penury while millions of pesos are being choked out for the benefit of one or two or several people.  Take for instance the case of Mariannet Amper, the girl who committed suicide because she cannot bare anymore the dejection and despondency that she was experiencing in Davao City, whose mayor is still in complete denial that such haunting event occurs in his turf. Her only wishes were school supplies, shoes, fare for school transportation and decent jobs for her parents.  Looks simple, especially if those millions of pesos doled out were used to fulfill the wishes of the many Mariannet Amper in this country.

            Only if our elected officials are acting intelligently, not wisely, for this country, many Mariannets could have been spared.  These leaders should be thinking for the betterment of this nation.  But, sadly, this looks like a crestfallen look.  So that leaves the ball on the hands of the people.  They should not feel hopeless just because their leader is not doing his job, they should still be optimistic and act intelligently for their families and loved ones.  Social action does not only warrant action from one sector of the society, it needs the collaborative effort of everyone, I repeat of everyone. Every sector should mobilize and take action possessing in mind the need for change and that their action should be for the good of everybody.  If the leaders can't deliver, that is not the end of everything, we should deliver it for ourselves.

            Public office is not a business enterprise.  Anyone who wants to enter this arena is not master, he is a servant, servant not of whoever is in the higher ups, but rather of the people.  I do believe that there still hope for us, we only need to believe in it.  Leaders should bear in mind that they are there for one thing and that is service to the people. 

            I remember one teacher that I read in the newspaper some weeks ago.  She was such a dedicated one, caring and feeling concerned for her pupils, tending for their problems.  She didn't have a child, as far as I can remember from what I read, but she warded for nephews and niece.  She was able to send and make them finish college with her scant salary.  And when she died, this one former pupil of hers came back to pay his final respects to her departed ma'am. She was able to touch the lives of so many with her small ways and she didn't take anything that is not hers.  I was really touched by this story.  Though many say that being affluent in life will be the best manifestation of victory in life, I'm the one who doesn't.

            Sometimes the poor can be considered more winners than the rich.

I was really rummaging through my intellectual bank what topic to discuss with you today.  I was thinking of having the topic “What can make the Philippines a Developed Country?”, on which I have written one topic about, an essay which was first intended for a competition in a newspaper but suddenly the spirit of laziness sunk in to my butt.  Or about anything about your thoughts in this country or about the latest rebellion of Sen. Antonio Trillanes.  I was really trying it hard to write something that will move you because I have always believed that we guys, the youth, can take this country out of the circular path it is ambling for decades now.

But suddenly something from the past seeped through my being like a cold wind in the heart of the night.  This topic is really ironic, which I think you may find very vapid even to think about.  I know, once I start to share- or ram through your throat if you like- this, you will not think of the idea I’m trying to drill to your hearts, but about the showbiz side of the thing.

Whenever I am able to catch a glimpse of Wowowee, I see them interviewing all sorts of people, from different walks of life.  Name it and you will have a piece of it, from fishermen to farmers to street vendors to shoeshine boys, street children, in other words all sorts.  Because of this that I think of the show as tiangge [flee market], not of clothes or any other garments but of people.

One time, I heard the show’s host, Willie Revillame, interview one of the contestants and ask him what is he doing in life.  The man answered “Magsasaka lang po.” [“I’m just a farmer.”] accompanied by the tone as if he killed Lady Diana of Jose Rizal and then followed by a burst of laughter.  Another instance was when a woman said, “Labandera lang po.”[“Just a laundry woman.”] with the tone as if she has done the gravest sin of all and again she exploded into laughter.

That made me think, why are they always putting the word “lang” which gives the effect of flouting their state in life. The effect that’s as if they are of opprobrious characters, or they have done something of that extent, which I doubt.

It shows how puny Filipinos think of themselves.  What they are ashamed of, we can only speculate.  But one thing is for sure, though, they are not living in an affluent life.  They are maybe experiencing the hardest of times and that maybe the reason why they say the word “lang”.

At the same time it shows how the farmer and laundry woman are seeing life.  They are seeing life as life, and not as a curse or burden to carry.  I often wonder how they can smile in spite of the asperity they are faced with.  How they are able to paint a smile on their faces in spite of the lack of opportunity they see.  My guess is only as good as yours.

You try to change channel and their you will see the politicos delivering their harangue, este, privilege speeches, if you find it a privilege to listen to them.  After that people from the media will scramble to get any statements from these politicians as if they have averred something useful, of course I do understand that behavior from the media.  But the damn thing I can’t understand and don’t want to hear is when they are called “Sir” or “Mam” or worse “Honorable”.  Whooah!!! That’s like having to go to a dentist and have your teeth checked and then suddenly the dentist will crack, “I have to extract one of your teeth.”and then have an instrument drilled into your molar. 

The difference between the two, except that I would rather hear and experience the latter, is their point of pain, the former affecting the whole of your being while the latter affecting only the physical realm.

I cannot see the point why we should call many of them, of course there are still those who we can call, with honor, honorable, “honorable” if they are the ones who are making this country go through hell for decades now.  Of course they are only mostly to blame, some of the blames still lie in us for electing them in that position despite the arduous voting education campaign.  I can’t catch the point why we should give them courtesy if in fact they are disrespecting the very people who washed them to power.

I just cannot see why we should call them “honorable’ if they are that garapal [thick faced all the way] in bribing and buying each other out just to continue to wield that power.  I cannot see the honor in becoming a politico who does only one routine in the hollowed, or hallowed, walls of Congress or even their office, but to sleep.  I cannot see the honor in making the cost of a project two folds just to accommodate kickbacks.

I remember one joke just after the Batasan bombing about the real cause of it.  The joke says that the blast that rocked Congress was caused by the accumulation of methane gas [dig-low] in Batasan produced by the idle Representatives who did only sitting during the long hours of the body.  The joke was really funny but at the same time augurs something, what we may have are not really public servants but merely public displays.  I pity those chairs!

I can still remember former British Prime Minister Tony Blair during his farewell address when he was to step down as prime minister, politics is the arena wherein people’s ideals clash to promote the common good.  That was true for their country, but not on this part of the world.

There’s this one experience that made its place in my mind but most especially in my heart.  When my classmates and I did an outreach project in Values Education in remembrance of the coming Christmas season then we went to a house in Multinational Village on the riverbanks.  There we brought food items for the coming Christmas Day for the family as well as merienda.  When I interviewed the father he told me that he was hit by a truck of one of the companies operating in NAIA.  Because of that accident, he was almost disabled but because of that he cannot work and fend for the needs of his family.  His daughter is my batchmate back then in second year.  I ask him how are they able to survive with that kind of situation they are in, his answer really pricked my heart and tears started to brim on my eyes.  He said that they are holding on because of their faith in God.

 That really rang the hell out of myself, it reverberated through the corridors of my soul.  I don’t think any real human being wouldn’t feel the same with me for them.  That was the feeling then, but now it has changed, like the cold wind at night as it kisses your face.

Aside from sympathy, I felt another feeling, it awakened the devil in me, I was irate, irate because I can’t do anything for them, I felt helpless.  I felt for the first time in my life that no matter how hard I try I can’t help them.  I felt I’m one of the victims of the Ozone Disco tragedy being burned to hell and cannot do anything about it.  It’s like having your flesh singed and seeing it suffusing like wax.  You can smell the reek, reek of a flesh that has cooled off and looked like a melted candle.

I also feel helpless for the thousands and millions who are fighting it out with life but cannot win it.  I feel for those who are living and facing squarely life like a real man. And despite these hardships, they are still living an honest and decent life. I feel for those who still hope despite the things they are experiencing, the wretched conditions they are in.  Because of that I envy them, they can still see the life that should be seen by many today.  I envy them because they know, despite the inclement storm they are in, they can weather through that.

I don’t know who should be called honorable or disgrace among those people.  I don’t know if the basis of being called honorable has now changed.  If we have the right notion of the word, or at least idea of it.

Life is not about being poor or rich.  Its not about having money to expend for sumptuous things or not.  Life is not about being able to deliver a tirade in front of the prying cameras of the media just in aid of their re-election again.  It’s not just about being able to eat or survive a recess or a meal.  Life is more than that.

Honor is not measured by how much or how little you have.  Honor is not just about how many cars and limos or carts you have.  Honor is not just about how many furniture you have at home or how less.  Honor is more than that.

Life is how you make it, says one saying.  And I believe in that.  Life for me is seeing that you are alive, not seeing as if you are dead.  Life is feeling that throbbing of your chest, feeling the blood flow through your veins.  Life is enjoying the morning dew.  Life is how you live it in spite of everything.

Honor is ought not to be imposed on anybody.  It is earned.  It’s not measured how much or how little money you have but how did you get or did not get those.  It’s how you live life, how fairly you faced your asperities in life.  Honor is about how well you serve the public not the other way around.

In the end we are adjudged not by how long was our privilege speech or how short.  It’s not how well or bad our command of the language was.  In the end it’s about what did we say and what did we write.

Sometimes, the best winners and most honorable in life are those who we think are losing.  That’s salt on the wound.

The Philippines is a Christian country, in fact it is one of the only two Catholic dominated country in Asia.  This can be traced way back in the age of the Spanish who taught us the dogmas of the Church.  The Spanish were not the only colonial masters that we had in the past.  After them came the Americans who professes to be the vanguards of democracy and used education to control us, Filipinos.  When the Second World War broke out, the Japanese invaded our country.  From these colonial masters we learned so much and adapted so much of their culture and ways of living and governance.  At the same time they are imparting these things, they also inflicted so much hardships to us.  And when we regained our alleged “freedom”, we strutted as if we are the best. 

Almost half a century have past but nothing changed.  So many of us still experience poverty and hunger, some even has to resort to rummaging the garbage bins just to be able to survive a meal.  What is even more painful is that it’s not the invaders who are making us experience this destitution, it’s our countrymen, greedy countrymen.  They don’t even deserve to be called “countrymen” because they don’t give a damn to those who suffer for as long as they can make their big asses fat and bulgy. 

History and experience tell us that this is the reality.  During the time of Ferdinand Marcos, he and his gang of bastards raked all the private corporations as well as anything which may make his plastic bag of loots even bulgier available in the land.  And he sumptuously distributed this to his cronies who in turn gave their unswerving support for Ferdie. They happily enjoy their twenty year’s worth of harvest as millions of people suffer and starve to death.  Even after Marcos’ ass was kicked out of Malacanang, his family still enjoys those perks and wealth.  They were even been able to spin the heads of law t make their loots stay in their arms.

Today it seems that the dark days are back only a woman is leading the charge.  She openly shows that she is a devout Christian but as far as her actions are concerned she is devoid of any morality and even satanic cults won’t admit her in their group, and the reason is simple, she’s just too evil that she just earned a one-way ticket to hell.  But she is just the tip of the ice berg when it comes to rotten governance.  Almost most of the politicians here in the Philippines are of the same color with the Malacanang squatter.  Prices of the projects that are badly needed by their constituents even have to be jacked up two folds just to accommodate the kickbacks.  I think the corruption in this country is so prevalent that even the procurement of a piece of nail will have to have kickbacks.

Add to the corruption woes of our country is the too much politicking of these politicians.  It is very ostensible that many of the presidential wanna be’s are already boxing each other out for media mileage particularly the senators.  In fact, part of their clown show is the investigation of so many anomalies in the government in aid of re-election or even election in the Palace come 2010.   It is not surprising if the day of reckoning comes, these people will scramble just to hoist their bid in the presidential derby.

Another odd feature of this country is this is the only country where the criminal is the one who sets the condition of his pardon.  Add to the fact that this person, after being convicted of reclusion perpetua by the Sandiganbayan, is serving his term, not in Bilibid, but in his cozy resthouse.  This seems to send the message, not that this country is committed in eradicating corruption, but this country is a haven for corruption for as long as you have the money and influence.  Surely, many will be gloated if they see the president, who has established free housing projects for his concubines during his tenure in Malacanang, which is now next to impossible because he’s already given absolute clemency, caress the irons of their cells together with the likes of Jocjoc Bolante, Nany Perez, Virgilio Garcilliano and of course who can forget the squatter in the Palace and her gangmates.  These people are the live representation of how sinful our country is.

 After Erap, his replacement is even worse or may even be the worst.  If ever she was not swept to power, many journalist and activist would even be alive today and our current population will be 800 more.  But the most appalling, horrifying and abhorring of all is the apparent lost of morality in this government.  This “president” is very much willing and inclined in exhausting all illegal means just to stay in power, the latest of which is the stuffing of money to the mouths of her bought allies.  Indeed, adapting the dictum “the truth will set you free”, for the lessor in Malacanang it will be “lies will keep her free”, for the meantime.

With this kind of politicians in hand, I don’t think the youth of today can see even a speck of light in this utter darkness that envelopes us.  Even I don’t see one.  During this reign of evil, there should be some night in shining armor coming, but none has come because everyone is on the evil side.  Unlike during the time of Marcos where we had Ninoy and subsequently his wife Cory on the light side, now we don’t have ‘em.  The only bright angle is that Marcos and his evils were defeated in the end.   

It is ironic that as a Christian country we should be observing Christian ways of living and teachings, we are following otherwise.  The reign of light has left us and even the “should be morale boosting prospect of 2010” is now a despondent look.  The bootless cries of people are landing on deaf ears, the plight of the people are seen by blind eyes, by callous hearts, by individuals who only think of themselves. I don’t even think that heaven can even hear their cries of help. 

It seems that God has abandoned us.  I hope not.  

Fiestas are really part of the Filipino tradition having its roots since the Spanish time.  And I’m one of those who enjoy going to these eating sprees, everything about it from the food, except for those which have pork as ingredient, to the fair to the procession of the patron saints.  I also appreciate the possible prospect of having some additional weight. 

            Just this November 30, I was invited by my bestfriend to their fiesta in one of the barangays here in Paranaque City.  As expected, many of the cuisines served were have pork but thank God, there was a life saver, Chicken Afritada. Just enough to repress my hunger since I have not eaten anything that day except for the breakfast I had that day. 

            Fiestas not only serve as a place of holy eating but also of reunions.  And that day, when I arrived, the happy countenance of my classmates in highschool greeted me with a hay!  But I do not consider that as a reunion, just a gathering of souls who were distanced by their sheer difference in schools.  I immediately entered and greeted them together with one of my friends.  But before that my bestfriend welcomed me to their house, not with a kiss or anything sweet, but with yank in the tummy, according to her fro being late by almost two hours.

            I sat to their dining table and merrily munched the rice and afritada.  Whooh! what a relief from a day’s toil.  After that, one of my friends, notably a newly elected Youth Council member, ribbed me to foot a drinking spree and of course, I declined for the sole reason of having an empty pocket.  But do you expect a fiesta not to have beers factor in it.  The brother of my bestfriend served us with bottles of SanMig Light.  And since it was their fiesta anyway, I got one bottle.

            While gulping the ice-cold light beer, we where teasing our SK Kagawad [Youth councilman] to provide us with basketball since he already is in office.  And he laughingly nodded.  Then our beer talk took another turn, this time talking about the honoraria SK Chairmen receive, I think every four years.  Then he retorted that the Chairman gets it every month.  But that was not the brunt of the talk.  It came when someone asked my friend how about them?  He answered they get nothing.  But he added that their annual budget, if I remember it right, P2 million pesos.  And then he said the unthinkable, something that I did not expect, “Kaya nga dun ka na didiskarte.”  I was really flabbergasted by it though I tried to hide it with a big smile as if riding with what they are talking.

            Another instance is when I heard a mother of a SK Councilman candidate that she allowed her daughter to run for the position because of the perks that come with it.  I’m not really aware of the perks that come with being a member of SK but I’m pretty sure that if that mother was right, the privileges that come with it are really mouth watering to be able to catch their ears and entice these souls to run for it.

            Some things cropped up in my mind after that incident.  One is that many of the people sitting in the government today are not really into public service but rather into a thinking that public office is a business enterprise.  And I am not surprised at all why our coffers our emptied, not by genuine projects that will redound to the people, but by itchy demons’ hands eager to get their slice of the pie.

Two: Filipinos’ hopes that they will finally see the rays of the sun are yet to happen, not now or in the near future. Many say that if there’s the old chilling night, the warmth and balm of the sun will always be something to hope for.  I hope Filipinos can still wait, till the sun rises.

            And finally, in this world, this is a constant battle of good against evil.  It’s a constant struggle between light and good.  But today it seems that evil is prevailing and they are besieging this country.  I hope someone will stand on the light of the good.  Who will be it? He or she is yet to come out. 

            That very moment, I reflected on it.  What will happen to their constituents who voted for them in hope of having a good leaders and being able to deliver the services they need?  If they will be our next leaders, I can’t think of what will happen to this country. 

             In this country, often buffeted by social problems and political malaise, I can’t blame many people in abandoning this country.  I cannot shove my middle finger to them for deserting this land.  I cannot goad the politicians of today to do their job.  I cannot hunt all the potbelly policemen out there extorting money from poor motorist.  I cannot break the bones of all the pervert people in this land.  But I will not think of things I cannot do, I will think of things I can do. I will not anymore whim and feel crestfallen because our leaders cannot suffice our needs but instead I will strive for the people who matter most to me, who are important to me.

            May the cries and tears of suffering of this nation bring us back to life.

Frankly, I don't have any idea of The Ramon Magsaysay Student Essay Competition nor about the people who were accorded by the said award.  So when I read an article in the Philippine Daily Inquirer, written by John Bengan, something in me prodded my body to write and let my creative juices to gush forth.

Writing indeed is a very tedious enterprise especially if you don't have anything to write about.  But what really is writing for me?  Is it just a way of complying with the deadlines set by your pedagogues?  I don't think so.  For me it's a very effective way in spawning change, much needed change, which hopefully will bring us to the long-dreamt progress.

This is the very reason why Ms Eugenia Apostol, based from what I know, serves as my idol.  Just like her, I want to use writing in helping my country and alleviating my countrymen from the mire injustice and poverty.  I want to eradicate all the perverse in the government, weed out all the illegalities in this society in this society of ours.  I want to be the leader in doing what's good for the country.  In simpler terms, I want to CHANGE the world.

Sounds a bit idealistic specifically if you'll consider my current stature right now, a student.  Ms Apostol may have done what she has accomplished so far because she has rich experience and gamut of wisdom through the years.  At the same time she had the audacity to stand by what is right even if it is in direct collision course with a dictator.  She braved a society full of fear to be able to tell the people the truth.  She even used her own money to make the endeavor possible.  In the end she was able to persevere and eventually helped in regaining back the prized freedom.

But how about me?  I will not be able to do that, maybe.  So I asked again myself can I really do CHANGE?  Then I looked at the mirror and mumbled, "Is this really the person who wants to change the society?".  I realized I am not the person to who has the right to campaign for change, for now, maybe. 

I discovered before I can change my social milieu I spin at, I have to first clean my own backyard before cleaning others'.  I cannot give something which I do not have.

How can a seventeen-year old Thomasian change himself?  No one can answere this question for me except for myself.  And I only know one way, through studying, by doing well in school, I can make myself better.

But in this time and age, where the youngs are engrossed with so many other things, cellphones, friendster, social parties as well as boyfriend or girlfriend, how can we focus ourselves in this endeavour.  Add to the fact that students also experience family problems, economic problem, social problems, spiritual, financial and emotional problems that greatly affect their school performance.  Another is the problem inside the very academic institution they are on like mind-boggling exams, terror teachers and face-wrinkling projects.  These are already enough to not even want to hear the word "school".

Yet, I believe that those mentioned above are not enough to deter you from studying.  Many youth today are lucky enough to be sent by their parents to a good school.  They are able to enter schools without having to grapple with examinations for scholarships, unlike me.  Some are more unfortunate because they don't have even the opportunity to study.  Still many are wasting these opportunities presented to them.  They don't see the hardships of their parents just to sustain their studies.  They don't see the blood and sweat that were invested by their father and/or mother.  Sometimes I envy them 'coz they don't have to maintain a grade of 1.75 just to continue attending school.  How I wish I have that opportunity. 

Despite this, I still see the need to exude my best for me and especially to those people who are counting to me.  I know I have to in spite of the set-backs that I sometimes experience, problems that even hound me to my nightmares.  With this kind of thinking, I am more fortunate to them.

Ironic it may seem, ironic because the more some are clobbered by problems, the more they stand and strive harder.  But this harmony has thought me so much.  During our last day of regular class before our finals, my professor, Atty. Bong Lopez, told us one very inspiring story that he got from one of his former students who is now a successful writer and it goes like this: "I learned that all of us are students in this one big university.  We all undergo examinations but it's not the fill in the blanks type rather, it's essay type quizzes.  We write our own piece but don't worry if you commit mistakes, erasures are allowed.  Life is short.  It's not worth it to skip class just because of one terror teacher; you'll miss so much if you do.  It's also not right to subvert your entire life just because you failed an exam, remember there will always be one.  I learned that some teachers give surprise oral exams so it's good to take notes while she/he lectures.  It will be better if you will read those notes at home because I learned that some teachers give surprise written tests.  As we trek through life we are going to learn more.  Yet, in the end the extremes and the means of your life do not count, it is what is in between those two.  Come grade distribution day, we will not be graded by how much time we spent writing our notes but what we wrote.  I don't have to live long to effect changes.  Jesus Christ died when He was 33 years old, Jose Rizal when he was 35 years old.  Young they may be, but their deeds and works during their lifetime transcend the boundaries of time.

With these things in mind, I can say that life is like studying, constant learning and discovering.  Simple may it seems but it does not end there, use what you acquired.  I will not be able to change the world, it's too big for one ordinary human like me.  What you can change is your world, your very own.  It seems too small to count but if incremental changes are summed up, in the end it will eventually be big without you noticing it and that is what He's after at.

    On our way to the Medium Security Camp, the whole of my mental plank is thinking, or better yet guessing, what to expect.  Will I see people who are clad in orange robes and skin headed and they are banging their plates to the iron bars of their cells, just exactly what you see in the movies.  Will I also see people who have lust for gore and killed their innocent victims just for the satisfaction of this lust.  The moment our bus rolled inside the "Munti" premises, my heart, and mind, raced to and fro in my chest as if it was already Armageddon.  The feeling is just unimaginable for such an innocent person like me.

            But at the same time this malaise was compounded by the feeling of excitement, especially for an aspiring journalist like me, to be able to mingle with these condemned people of the society, if we can still consider them member of the group.  I was terribly out of myself that day. 

            One important thing is important to note. Let's just fast forward things a bit. Last Saturday, I was conversing with my tita about the experience I had inside, though I think it wasn't enough to give an objective introspection [I mean not enough in terms of time immersed with them].  She said that the moment she hears the word "bilibid" macabre images set in in her mind.  She imagines it as a place of hooligans, a place of felons who were already forgotten by the society.  I asked her where did she get this idea and she answered from the things she saw in TV.  Ooops! TV! And that refers to the media, the very institution I want to be a part of.  And that rang the hell out of the corridors of my soul, is the media, which I want to be a part of, responsible of this gruesome image to the minds of the people?  That gets you thinking. 

            Returning back to the Bilibid, the moment I entered it, though the women were first allowed to enter, I was really surprised with what I saw.  A bunch of people dressed in your normal civilian clothes, some even are better fashionisto than I.  I also saw clothes hanging on the clothesline waiting the water to be sipped by the scorching heat of the sun.  Another flabbergasting thing is their deep well of talent.  They treated us with dance and song numbers, they even serenaded the Thomasian women, which I later found out was the reason why they were allowed to enter first.  They grooved to the tune of the latest hip-hop songs with the justice and grace in their moves and God forbids, I will not dare try it.

            But what that's not the pinnacle of the visit, at least for me.  The apex was when they performed with, I don't know what it's called, but it was a sort a skit acting while a band of inmates were singing behind.  In the skit, one of the prisoners was a young one, apparently a new inmate while the other, I think, has spent some time inside.  Their performance went like this: the older one was relating to the audience his eye-opening experience inside while the other was retorting back with the tone of dejection in his voice. The older one is trying to goad the new prisoner that it is not yet the end of everything for him and instead it should be the cue to start a new life, though limited by the physical barriers and barb wires inside. But the "rookie" refused to believe this.  And the skit went like this to the accompaniment of the singing choir behind.  I will not elaborate more on the song itself lest I may have it wrong.

            The most soul-ringing of the line of the song is about us, people who enjoy physical freedom, if you believe so, are the real prisoners.  But unlike the prisoners inside the medium security camp who are tethered by the physical limits and lines inside, we are incarcerated in our own prison cells, cells without iron bars.  That line sent my mind out of the centrifugal force holding it that day.  That sent trembled the very foundations of my soul or even the very foundations of hell in every body who was present at the time, every body who was human enough to feel the song in their midst.

            That also makes you think to which, or whom are we imprisoned?  And that made obvious the searing advantage that they have over us, at least they know and us not.

            During the course of the day, we were able to interact with some prisoners.  For them is the other of the two lunches we were tasked to bring.  In the middle of the desiccating heat of the mid-day sun, we were ushered inside the in what seems to be their multipurpose hall.  There, we, the students, were asked to line up as we wait for our partner inmates.  While waiting, I was wondering who will my inmate be, what is his case or is he really the suspect who did it or was he just a scapegoat.

            Then the interaction started.  I was face with a man of medium built about 30-35 years of age.  His name was Ronnie Reyes and he is from Bulacan.  During the course of our conversation that lunchtime, though he was not eating because he said he has just eaten and he was still full, he related to me how he ended up there.  He averred that he was convicted of robbery but he said he did not participate in the actual crime.  The only mistake he committed, which I think is wrong form no matter what angle you look at it at, is when he allowed the "real" robbers to stay in the unoccupied house in front of theirs.  And since they owned the house, he was implicated of the crime when the police raided house and were able to recover the loots that his friends got.

            But that's not the end of the story, the owner of the store that the robbers heisted was of an influential family in Bulacan.  And when they caught Ronnie, he was tortured by the family to point where the rest of the robbers are. But the most ignominious is that the police of one precinct in Meycuayan, Bulacan participated in the torture.  He said he was electrocuted while he was being doused with water.  Putting his words "pati si Rizal aaminin mong pinatay mo" with what they did.

            Then I asked him if doesn't he have any plans of appealing his case, his answer was a chilling one, "hindi na, wala din naming mangyayari."  But he shared with me that he has learnt so much inside, things that he did not learn or appreciate and marvel at when he was outside.

            That's getting me to ponder at the other line of the song the inmates did.  It says there that we are prisoners of our lust for power, lust for material things, lust for the worldly possessions, lust for anything we set our eyes at.  And because of these things, we are blinded of the reality around us, reality that we often take for granted because we hardly notice it.

            Take for instance the case of a convicted plunderer who pocketed millions or even billions of pesos during his dally in office.  Add to the fact his mouth watering every time he sees women in scanty bikinis.  This is for sure a prisoner in his own right though he wasn't able to spend a knick of time inside the Bilibid cells to caress the cold iron bars he deserves.  That is due again to another prisoner, who, on the other hand has lust for power.  She did and is doing and probably will do anything to stay in power to gratify her yearning.  She is even branded to be more corrupt that Ferdinand Marcos but she hasn't spent anytime in jail just like her predecessor.  These two are the scintillating epitomes of prisoners who have not been to a real jail but are nevertheless no less imprisoned or may even be more prisoners than Ronnie and others who are currently inside.

            All these are clear signs that we are indeed in the middle of our prison, cage, that limits us, not physically but by other media.  This prison or cell that we are in tethers us from flying, from making our spirits fly.  This hurdles us from achieving our life's utmost potential.  It prevents us from metamorphosing to real humans. 

            But wait..that's get us to the earliers question we had, where is the prison cell.  We will not be able to see other's but what is definite is that we can see our own.  The cell we are looking for is ourselves.  It is ourselves that we must free ourselves from.  It will be hard battle and I cannot tell you how to emerge as the victor, each of us faces this dilemma.  The only thing I am definite at is this: we should start now to free ourselves from this prison because as The Collegian puts is "if not now when? If it is not us, who else to do it?" 

            As for myself, I will start a revolution, both figuratively and literally, in my heart.  And I hope the fire that it will create will stoke other's as well.  This should start a conflagration in each of us, a fire that does not burn but sustains life, heart that does not destroy property but preserves it. It is not stoked by woods or gas rather it is kindled by hunger, by iniquity of those who should be protecting them by poverty and face of impossibility.  But I hope this fire will also burn those who right now are refusing to admit they are prisoners, burn the souls of those who have caused the likes of Mariannet Amper to take her own life, those who constantly scourge others for their greedy gain. Anyway, there are two kinds of fire, that which strengthens and that which destroys just like the fire that hardens a steel and the fire that melts a butter.

            After the experience, it got me to a deep contemplation, who is the real prisoner, us who have a very flawed notion of them and life itself or them who have seen and experience the realities of living outside.  Who is the real prisoner, us who are so ignorant of the realities of their living as well as ours or them who have seen the realities of living outside.  And who is a real prisoner, us who, despite the freedom and liberty we are tasting, do not do anything good and useful to the society but instead contribute to its dissipation or them, despite the boundaries they are confined in, are doing everything they can, to the utmost of their abilities to correct what they did wrong and try to ingratiate themselves to the society which ones condemned them and continuing to do so.

            Sometimes physical realms do not assure your liberty and iron bars do not constitute your incarceration.  Sometimes physical boundlessness does not give you the assurance that you are in reality of freedom and barb wires and iron gates do no mean that you are bound to rot in those limitations. Your mind is not bound to these hindrances as well as your spirit.  And most especially your heart because it can even kindle a revolution and it will not be controlled even by the wounds of barb wires or cold caress of iron bars, it will not be subdued by the whips and gunshots but it will illuminate it more in their hearts.

            There's the rub.  Life indeed is full of contradictions.