IngliseraKuno

We walked along Pacdal Road in Baguio City from the church where we had Christmas Day mass. We anticipated traffic so it waad just going to be a hassle to drive, we just left the car where it was parked. There were plenty of places we can eat, to have late lunch. Or so we thought. We went to the nearest, Ketchup, a compound of small, cozy restaurants where they serve a variety of dishes. It was closed. We went to the next stop, Volante, a popular pizza and pasta place in Baguio. We were relieved to see the place teeming with people, but they closed the gates. A young man, presumably one of the waiters, told us, they were temporarily closed as they had a 'full house'. They probably did not have a 'wait-to-seated' policy, or they did not have the supply to cater to the influx of customers. Which made me quite disappointed with Volante. So I started to feel how the Joseph and Mary felt when they were turned away by the inns they went to so Mary can give birth comfortably t...

Grand. The hotel, even from from afar, is grand. Crown Legacy Hotel is strategically located in not-so-center of Baguio City, its proximity to Naguilian or Marcos Highways, the two national routes taken by those in the lowlands, is not much of a hassle. It is relatively near the shopping centers, Session Road, Burnham Park, Camp John Hay, a decent hospital. Along its frontage are the stuff which staycationers will find useful: an acoustic bar; a videoke bar; a small budget resto; a pharmacy and a convenience store. The main entrance leads to a lobby where a giant christmas tree stands, across large leather sofas, atop it a chandelier. The lobby area is about ten times the floor area of our house. A staircase curves to the right, massive in structure. Just below the staircase is a cafe, where a grand piano sits. A lady with a lovely voice sings there nightly, accompanied by an acoustic guitarist. One can sit and have coffee and pastries while listening to the nice music they make. The s...

She is probably eight years old. She was propped on a wheelchair, staring blankly in space, but singing a tune, in 'la, la, la...' in the rythm of a folk dance, while her companions in the home walked past her. She was the first I saw, perhaps because of the singing. Another old lady sat beside her in a housedress, peering curiously at us, while we were talking to their caretaker. In front of her are two old men clad in pajamas, also in wheelchairs, silent. I could not tell what exactly they were looking at, but they did not look at our direction. To my right were two younger men, I guess sixty-something, one with a cane on where his left hand rested, the other, his brain trying deperately to will his right hand to go towards his mouth to eat bits of cereal. I saw his left hand holding a bowl of the cereals, but the hand was limp, immobile. Around his feet, on the floor, scattered about were the cereals which he was not able to properly direct to his mouth. I heard a moan somew...

We decided that the Christmas celebration this year be simpler than the previous years, even if by itself, the province of Ilocos Sur speaks of simplicity, grace and 'old soul' in its culture. We just wanted to be together, in the spirit of solidarity, of one in heart and mind, this season when we all look to the birth of Jesus Christ.  I did not want my colleagues to be stressed over the details of the get-together. My team and a few among the office personnel took care of that, from the invites, kriskringle, the games, prizes, giveaways, the venue decorations, and food. All we asked from them were three things: that they 'donate' whatever extra they had for the prizes; that they bring food to add to whatever the office could afford; and that they prepare for presentations per division. I had them wear the same t-shirts, as I do not want them sweating over the cost of new clothes to wear and for fear that someone might come to the get-together looking like Lady Gaga.  ...

I was in Davao for a meeting last year and got into a conversation with a cab driver. That's my usual way, I start a conversation with a cab driver just to check what is up in the world outside. That is not a scientifically-proven yardstick, but I still like to talk to people who do not confine thelmselves within the four walls of their airconditioned offices for work. My barometer for what is going on in the real world are our office drivers, really. Believe me, they know all, and most of the time, what they do want to tell me is true.  I recall that conversation with that cab driver in Davao very well, because, for one, he spoke to me in Bisaya even if I was replying to him in Tagalog. I told him I was not a local, an Ilocano, yet he went on and on about our topic in their dialect. Which was fine with me, not that I understand Bisaya fully, but I did get what he was talking about, in the context of it.  He asked where I was from, and told him, Ilocos Sur. He said, 'aaahhh, C...

I recall the conversation, in the words of Jack Nicholson in 'A Few Good Men', crystal. This colleague told me, '...what is practical is not allowed...'; and '...the truth will not save you...'.   I was telling her the truth, about certain things, in the hope that she would understand where I was coming from, because she was, well, told the truth. It was not the ugly truth, it was simply just that, the truth: the kind which is supposed to make others  see the wisdom in my decisions, the kind which is supposed to make them say, 'oh. ok then. it is not disastruous, after all.'  Yet she uttered those two phrases I will not easily forget. Unless I will be diagnosed with early-onset Alzheimers.  I read this post suggesting that one of the presidential candidates be more 'authentic', so that he would be more 'credible' or 'identifiable' with the masses. The writer further said, to fire the public relations people of this candidate, thei...

I am laughing from the pit of my stomach. This is a good day. On bad days, I unleash my anger in various forms, mostly by writing stupid stuff which I thought would be deep. I read all my earlier blogs and my goodness, they were all so sad and desperate I wondered if they were actually written by me. But yes, it was me.  I now seem to have mastered the art of 'feeding my hunger', for screams, you know the type which also comes from the pit of your stomach but also makes your throat hurt? I feed that by laughing. My hunger for insulting people, the kind which would make other people feel like idiots, I feed by laughing. My hunger for attention and love, I feed that by laughing at myself, the situation, and all that goes with it.  Now this might make me look like I am insane. But the past months, I simply got tired. I got tired of fighting with people who think of themselves as the only creatures of God that they can just behave like they were born in the gutters, with no shame,...

At first, the whole idea was exciting. Like a hero straight from the movies, he came to life and gave the 'outlaws' what they deserved. As far as he is concerned, he did what needed to be done to keep his constituents, the visitors to his place, well and safe. I walked their streets late at night, taking my time, withdrew money from ATMs, rode cabs alone, many times, and I am still in one piece today. It is admirable, the fact that this peace and order can be achieved somehow, somewhere, in a country plagued by this wretched poverty and desperation. Moreso that the dynamics in this economy play to spur the disparity between the rich and the poor; the longer the stretch from one side to the other, the deeper the roots of evil, the more plausible the reasons for criminality.  Interesting, too, that people reached out to him to run for the highest post in the land, and he was realistic enough to say, no, this country does not need him. Until the Senate Electoral Tribunal deci...

It was most tiring, this year's convention. But it was the most dressed-down, casual, comfy, warm one, looking back five years past. Our community is growing, slowly but surely. Our family in our department has also grown, we had three new friends who graduated from the programs, conferred with rank. My yardstick every year is the number or length of table/s we all use to eat, eat and eat, hosted by a collague local to the convention location. This year, the table is longer than usual, which made me glad. We were also louder, not only because we had more mouths chattering, but because we have done this each year, it felt like it was more and more becoming natural to blabber with our mouths full. We never ran out of stories to tell, and time was always short. We were to be stiff and formal for the opening ceremonies in our Filipiniana, then change for the less formal in the afternoons. Taking pictures seemed to be unending. In-between, our minds were fed with both the cerebral and n...

When all you have to offer are words, after everything is said and done, after pain of the most raw form has cut through the being of another, the pain you have caused, there is no redemption. Not for you, for those who look at you, not for those who care for you, for those you have hurt. I dare not ask that you kiss my feet and wash them, I am not Jesus Christ. I dare not ask that you pretend like nothing happened, and speak only of the matters which will make is easier for co-existence to come to play. I dare not ask that you beg, you bleed like I did, or go through the hell I have been through, just to let you experience the same, to punish you, to shake you out of you delusion that you did nothing which cannot be fixed by, for example, putting up a 'tough guy bravado' for everyone to see. 'Hey, I am all right, I showed her who is right here all along, I told her so, I am better at these things, etc.' or 'I have shown all the sincerity I could muster to make thin...

Honey is 84 years old, this fiesty old lady who asked my daughter, 'Amin na lang si Christianne ha?', when they first met. My daughter laughed in reply, politely said, 'Huwag po.' Honey is called that by all, her true name is actually 'Leoning', and she is called by everyone that nickname as a sign of not only respect for the woman she is but of endearment. Not that she is all sugar-and-spice-and-everything-nice. She is headstrong, was with the teaching profession for the longest time, went abroad to work, save up, be with her sublings, came home to Vigan, built her house and took care of everyone in need. In the middle of all that, she got married at about 50 years old (older, I think) to a man who was widowed and sought her after so many years of having only her in his heart. He passed away while married to her, and I looked at his photos with her when they were together based on which I can definitely say, his last and happiest days.  Today, she is sewing the...

So you are scared to die, after all, my good friend joked. She knew of my leave of absence and my two-week handcuffed-to-the-bed episode, because I had this relapse I suppose, from my confinement. And my doctor, whom I love and respect, was already the one begging me to rest. So I did. Anyway, this friend of mine does not say much about it, but she does peek into my facebook wall and gets updated about what is happening in this twisted life of mine. Often, in the midst of all life's pressures, I would tell her, 'I think I would like to die now.', in jest. She once told me that if she put together the many times I said those words, I would probably be minced meat by now. I read once that a friend is indeed a friend when she is able to tell you when you are terribly sick and you feel like dying, that yes, you probably are. That's her. All that got me thinking. So the past two weeks made me realize these things: (1) there are people who do care enough to take care of yo...

I was only able to watch the movie 'Frozen' about two years after the song 'Let It Go' was covered a million times by a million artists. I know of its story, heard snippets of it from conversations, mostly from mothers like me who have kids going gaga over the characters, Ana, and who's this other girl?  So when I finally did get to watch it, my daughter, also named Ana, by the way, promptly called me a loser. I deserved that. I got to watch 'Heneral Luna' only last night, but of course it did not take years after it was much talked about. It took this forced two-week handcuffed-to-the-bed situation for me to have the time and the energy to do so. Incidentally, my daughter also watched it last night in Baguio (I did in Vigan), so we had this short but quite interesting exchange about our history this morning. That was because she sent me a text at past midnight fuming mad about what she learned from watching 'Heneral Luna'. She said she was in ...

I walked through the old halls of the school building to get to the audio-visual room where my son, Aidan, was to perform with his middle school's drama guild. The sun was up, way too high, that if I passed through the grounds, I would have fainted. It was enrollment time, so there were many students around. There was a time I walked through these halls with my mid-wedge pumps' sound echoing about, on my way to teach a college class. When classcards and chalks and erasers were still in. Now they are stuff of the past, what with projectors, whiteboards and Apple TVs, and tablets.  I caught a sniff of that familiar smell of floor wax, the ones they use to keep the hall floors shiny. Some things do not change. I looked across the hallway with the shiny maroon floors, and I imagined the school president, then, Fr. De Boeck, a German priest who was always breathing down my neck for smoking in campus, and for dying my hair bright brown, walking towards me. There was a time I was to m...

I first sat with an 'escort', a 'guest relations officer', or to be blunt about it, a 'prostitute' about twenty years ago, in an exclusive room of a classy joint for men who could afford their drinks, and their striptease. Why I was there in the company of these women, is another story altogether. When I was first introduced to one, I could not think of anything to say, but I was picking my brain as to the proper   start of a conversation. I distinctly recall I was very conscious not to offend my new acquaintance, and that I had to respect her, as any other. I told her, 'your lipstick shade is really nice. What color is it?'. She smiled, and told me, with the lipstick brand. I was also using the brand, and told her that. She seemed to appreciate my effort in engaging with her decently. Until, of course, her work started to need her attention, so she shifted focus from me, to her work. Of course, I eavesdropped, when she and her 'guest' starte...

What I have now, as my life, is a bonus, he said. His mission is over, according to him. That mission is to rear his children, get them through school, have them ready for lives of their own. Not that he lived his ideally. He had numerous relationships, he has so many drinking buddies, many acquaintances, and only a few he considers true friends. His passions are booze and women, in that order. He was raised by parents who lived simply, grew up in a household where the value of respecting one another was held most important. He enjoyed his life, he says, from his childhood days to his adulthood, because what is there to do with life, if not that? He tread the path of uncertainty in what the future holds for him, what matters is that his children are all right. He is quiet, but he gets on a roll when he gets interested in a conversation. Especially with beer in hand. He rarely gives in to anger, veers away from arguments, but when he does, his words cut deep. His words are his weapons...

Here are my thoughts about #AlDub: I think Alden Richards is very good-looking. Way too good-looking for Maine. But that's me, an48-year-old hag, being bitter. I am old enough to be his mother. I think Maine is a talented, funny and smart young lady, with an average face and figure, read: 'normal' Filipina. Not the ones who dress up like sluts, with full make-up, topping that with the best app for photoshop. She uses MAC lipstick in that shade of red which got sold out in the country after learning she uses the brand and color. But she plays the character of a maid, or 'yaya' in the 'kalyeserye' so she dresses in the character. I think that Wally and the rest of the bunch are great at comedy. They portray real-life people, show us the funny side in all of us, spontaneous and honest. No scripts needed, really. They simply poke fun at our truths, and I love that. The hypocrites hate that.  I think that Joey de Leon, who is pushing 70, is just teasing whoever i...

You call me 'Morgans', which is 'Lady Morgana', the cruel bitch taking care of Princess Sarah and her friends in an orphanage (the cartoons where Sarah always holds a basket of patatas). Well, some truths need to be said, and what better way than to coin me a nickname from a character who has no heart. 😜😈😂😆 You move at a glacial pace, sometimes I imagine you being hit by a tractor 🚜somewhere, which by the way, also moves at the same glacial pace. When you eat🍴, by the time the spoon with rice reaches your mouth, I would have already chewed & gulped my rice, with a piece of meat to boot. Your bath 🛁takes a minimum of thirty minutes, for a quick shower🚿. The normal bath is about plus one hour, with water splashed all over the bathroom like it rained ☔️in there. Another hour, you need that to put your make-up on, 💄powder over your nape, lotion on your legs, foot spray before putting on shoes.👟All told, you need about three hours 🕐🕓to get ready for work or j...

Last year, I marked my milestone of my first year in Ilocos Sur wth 100 Lessons Learned, in photos and one-liners. I did not know how to write my feelings down as raw that time, I was afraid I would be misinterpreted. I always am, ever since I learned to talk. But given that I am to conduct myself in a manner 'acceptable' and 'becoming' my position, I always have to exert effort to restrain myself from, for example, yelling until my lungs burst, in frustration; or to let out my witch-like cackle loudly until my eyes tear up, in joy. With this job, I need to be steady and balanced. Or at least project a semblance of that. So I will, in three points, add to those 100 lessons, as part of my version of a sustainability plan (or the points I need to always, always remember to 'aid' me in 'sustaining' this momentum, whether lackluster or excellent, I do not intend to render myself that judgement). First, I will say this with all humility aside, this job made m...

Exhausting two days. When I say that, I don't mean physically tired really. Two things: my brain worked overtime, and my heart was beat up. I had meetings two days in a row, with my teams for every division, one after the other, sitting cramped in my small office, to go through what is still to be done for the remaining months of the year. As in any meeting I call for, more time is devoted to administrative concerns rather than technical. My colleagues have been in this job for years, it would be an insult to tell them what to do. I simply try to keep them all in line such that we all sing in harmony, so to speak. Like in any piece of music, all instruments need to be in tune, meticulously playing notes reading from one arrangement. It takes only one, among an orchestra of musicians, to render a piece disastrous. One misguided note played, by one person, on one instrument; that is enough for everything to fall apart. I was perhaps too tired of speaking in the last two days that thi...

One week of meetings and of course, Maan and I simply just got nauseous about it all on the last day. I took the week rather well, considering,  because I have not been out for conferences in a while. My boss told me he misses me, which is his way of asking me, 'what the hell have you been doing all this time we have not seen each other?!'. I was told that he passed by Vigan a few weeks back, and finding I was not there (I was in Manila for a training) and he asked my staff, 'where is she this time?!'. My staff told him where I was, then it dawned upon him he was supposed to know, he signed my authority to travel, but of course he forgot.😜 The days I was supposed to have been missing I spent exactly where I should have: working in Ilocos Sur. So I took to facebook, saved all the pictures, wrote reports about all that I did evidenced by the pictures, and flooded the email of my boss with them. See, facebook has this other use; I even read that a suspect in a murder was ...

It is not that I criticize more often than I should. I admittedly 'make fun' of other people in private, not to really judge them but to find humor in what seems to be 'off' in people. If I say, for example, that this person sort of resembles a pitbull, I would point that out in the manner I would point out that I look like a rabbit when  I smile because the jackets my dentist put on my poor teeth are larger than the usual size. But if it will make me less than evil, I do that only with friends who can tolerate that about me.  I thought about that just now as I rest in this bed, my head rested on two pillows propped up, with the   pillowcase smelling like the hotel does not have a dryer, or a supply of fabric conditioner. You see, even the smell of sheets I comment on. I confine myself to stuff superficial, what I see in things and people, when I only wish to laugh. I do not go beyond what I can see, of course.  It is a different story altogether when you start to sp...

Ana is back in school and she told me interesting stories about her classes. In her psychotherapy class, she was recently asked a question about religion, and her feelings about it. In many words, she told me. The simpest way to put what she said is: to her, one's belief in God is an exercise of faith, not of routine. Her professor for the subject, she says, is really good. She told her class that it takes continuous learning and experience to be an expert in psychotherapy, 'when I was 25 years old, I thought I knew everything', she said. When I was 19 years old, I thought I knew everything. I was already teaching college classes then, so why would I not think that? Yet two decades after, I am still an idiot. Just because I took on responsibility for someone beyond my age, does not mean I have the wisdom to discern all there is about this life.  I have learned plenty, though. And today, one important lesson I formed in my mind is this: it takes more than ability to be a mot...

So Michael arrived late at the site where we are supposed to have an ocular inspection of the government-owned property we were to cover under land reform. I stood by the waiting shed along the highway of Burgos, Ilocos Norte, and waited for him, as instructed by his staff. He arrived, he was the one driving his jeep. I climbed up, then off we went to this 150-hectare property owned by the Provincial Government. He alighted his jeep, and said he had to a 'banyo'. He went to an outhouse built beneath a tree.  A group of farmers was waiting for him in the barangay hall, and he looked curiously at me. He did not know I asked our potential beneficiaries to be there to plead for his go-ahead on the coverage of the property. He whispered to me, 'why are there people here, Christianne? we were just supposed to inspect. just us'. I told him since he was visiting, they wanted to see him personally. 'Oh no, you set me up!'. So I said, 'you are here now, sir, let's...