IngliseraKuno

As if the deaths of sons and daughters who were allegedly engaged in illegal activities involving drugs were not enough, a mother decided recently to wrap her newborn in plastic and throw her in a trash can. The baby was still alive when found by those who heard some skirmish in the trash, they thought it was a cat. When they opened the plastic which wrapped something moving, they discovered 'Baby Jade'. From the video footage I saw, those who witnessed the incident all screamed at the background to take the baby to the hospital right away, their voices distraught. One witness who was interviewed said that even after days the incident happened, she could not shake off the image of the baby from her mind, and she started choking in tears. 'Baby Jade' is now in the hospital, in a coma, the prognosis for her is not hopeful. They suspect that her brain is swollen as she was deprived of oxygen while wrapped inside the plastic bag, and that she has sepsis brought by her long ...

I love it when my friends call me 'fangirl', I love the way I make them amused that I am  obsessed with my main man, Bamboo. Years back, an Uncle apparently looked up his videos on YouTube just to find out why his niece is posting crazy on facebook, every little thing about Bamboo. Obviously, I am a fan of the man (that rhymed unintentionally) because of his music primarily. His performances, intense and focused, he does so much like he is in a trance, which is why he comes off as real and authentic. He sings from his soul. Of course, it helps he has this appeal: his face is not really well-chiseled and fine, his eyes a bit large for his face. But he is sexy, far as I am concerned, his music not only stems from the soul, it is laced with the intellect he has between his ears.  Tonight, I watched the second to the last night of the third season of The Voice Kids. I actually do not miss any episode when its season runs, because of Bamboo. But then again, I watch because it is am...

I saw him arrive from the balcony of the 2nd floor of the conference venue. The sight of him triggered the panic attack: I started sweating, strange because the venue is in Baguio City some time in the really cold months. And then I could not breathe. I started to become dizzy, so I ran to the nearest rest room to wash my make-up-laden face, drank water from the tap which is so unsafe in Baguio. I struggled to get my wits back to normal. This is how I remember this former boss. It is not fear of him that I felt at that time the attack was triggered; it was disdain for him and anger at myself for being helpless and not in control of the feelings I have for the man. He was a very, very difficult and complex character. As he was not a resident of our region, he would arrive at strange hours in the evening in the office, like a thief in the night, unannounced. He was perhaps thinking he would walk in to something wrong, so that he can talk about it lengthily in the convocation the next mor...

Bumped into him by the buffet breakfast, this colleague of mine I felt instant affinity to the first time I met him. I asked him how his wife was, as I know she is battling an illness. His posts on facebook I surmise shows only the times when smiles can be given, those moments that need to be captured if only to 'freeze' that instance, and be kept in our hearts. His reply pushed a bit of tears around my eyes, he said: 'She is still beautiful.'  I have not met her, his wife, but I have seen her photos, in a bandana. That made me conclude that therapy for her illness has been cruel, her hair had fallen out. But I look into her eyes in the photos, and while weariness can be seen in them, her eyes really does the smiling for her, not her lips. I saw gratitude somewhere in there, too, a feeling that others who are afflicted with a grave illness would not normally feel.  I am jealous of her, her strength and her fortitude. I envy the fact that she, together with her husband, ...

Dear Perry,  That double-edged sword hangs over our heads each day we work in any organization. It is most pronounced in government sadly. Yes, I agree with you that indeed, 'together' has evolved into something of a dangerous state, rather than that which is desired. And it is simply people who allowed that evolution, fuelled by self-indulgence. I am not one who would deny that I do think of my interests, because I have just recently decided to love myself first than others. I read somewhere that one cannot serve from an empty vessel, but for so long, I thought the key to achieving fulfillment was in selflessness. That notion is wrong. It is in filling yourself to the brim with what feeds your soul that enables you to be the best for others.  The question is what should we feed our souls? I feel that our souls' hunger stems from what we value. Some people value ego, pride, authority, recognition, power. Some value humility, responsibility tempered with conscious accountabi...

Dear Perry,  The Obama speech in the Democratic Convention this July gave me an answer to your question, 'what is the missing link?' (on my seven-part Stories of Quirino).  I think now that it is not 'predisposition'. It is our country's inability to see that a democracy truly works only when all difficulties are faced and overcome not by the politics of one, but of many, together. 'Together' is the simple word we all have seem to have forgotten. The last days, I have insisted in DAR Ilocos Sur that we aporoach our regular review and planning session with the sharing of the presumed knowledge of basic facts: definitions, processes, tasks, even the concepts of what we do and have been doing for the longest time. At first it seemed awkward and funny to all of us, listening to each division's throughputs, and at one point at the beginning I wanted to roll my eyes up and slap myself for initiating the activity. Then I looked around and saw the faces of my co...

'You spoil your farmers way too much.', Aris, a good friend told me decades ago. I was still in the rank and file, work was more difficult then. My time was spent on travelling around the four provinces in Region 1, commuting in jeepneys, mini-buses, trikes, sometimes tractors. I went to places I did not imagine I would reach, crossed wild rivers, fell off rice paddies and getting up covered in mud, drank with insurgents from one coconut husk, passed from one mouth to another then went home with typhoid fever. Yet those times were the most satisfying ever, in this career I devoted myself to for almost three decades. I had to see our farmers, with my own two eyes, and how they are doing.  Natural to me was and still is the gratitude given for the help we extend to our farmers. We get a lot of 'thank you's' and 'agyaman kami apo' from them, even if the assistance is still in the works and not yet handed to them. Because this government believes in participativ...

It is a rule for me not to speak in any gathering when an official holding a higher post already will. So for most of these ceremonial turnovers when we often have our bosses, I meld with my staff, just working quietly in the sidelines. I show my face for photo opportunities, smile, cut ribbons, dig dirt with a shovel while wearing a ridiculously funny hard hat, shake hands with Mayors, but I don't speak before the crowd.  In Quirino, I found myself speaking. In quite a shrilly voice, I realized, because I was disturbed by the fact that the farmer-leader of the irrigators' association was hesitant to sign the acceptance document. He told us, before he signs, he needed to hear from all the members of the association that they all agree to accept the project, as implemented. The reactions startled me. I looked at the faces of the farmers, and they all spelled suspicion. There were questions in their minds which needed answers. And so I asked all of them to move closer to us so we...

I was freaking out about not having snacks ready for the guests, well, blaming myself because I did not anticipate that the person responsible for it did not do his part completely (he had a cow slaughtered so..). One of the women, I assumed to be a member of the irrigators' association, heard me. Cupcakes and drinks appeared. It was almost lunch. I probably swallowed the cupcake at one time. I was famished.  The program started, finally, with messages from the representatives of all organizations involved in the project implementation. Of course the one from the municipio apologized over and over for needing to be fetched, etc. My favorite message among them was from the National Irrigation Administration, Engr. Dominador Mangaoang, who not only briefed the audience about the irrigation project but with the Comprehensive Agrarian Reform Program as well. Many among us from DAR wanted to slap our own faces in shame: he said everything that needed to be said about agrarian reform, an...

NIA came in late, but not without an entrance that is grand: they arrived in full force, officials from Central, Regional and Provincial offices, and, wait for it; a drone. It was a small one, which looked like a remote-controlled fly ten times the normal size and made the same sound. I was envious. I turned to my Administrative Chief, Mavic and told her, 'you buy me one of those', to which she replied, 'how much are those anyway?'. The buzz the drone was making started a migraine. Well, it was actually my jealousy that triggered the migraine, bitterness is a major factor. They all approached USEC Rose, apologized profusely for being late, had small talk and USEC Rose signalled we start the ceremony. For some reason, I did not want to get up on the elevated concrete where water was rushing below our feet. But she called out my name, so I went. Roel, part of the PNP Team securing the USEC promptly helped her up the concrete with an umbrella. I told you, these men from th...

Our guest, Undersecretary Rose Bistoyong, arrived on time we set for breakfast, and we proceeded to the project site immediately after. We passed by a makeshift large tent covering the area where we would have a simple program for the farmers and the guests to dialogue after the ceremonial test-run of the irrigation system. We stopped to say hello to the farmers, who were really more focused on chopping the parts of the cow they slaughtered for the occassion, than saying hello back. I asked Jeff, the PNP Team Leader, to check if all the vehicles we were ok to negotiate the terrain to the site. After he gestured a thumbs-up, the convoy again moved. We reached the site first. We had with us only the leader of the irrigators' association. It was pretty obvious that save from the pastor who was requested to dedicate the project, only DAR people were there. It was easy to identify us, we were wearing uniform shirts. That upset our guest, USEC Rose, because the project, aside from costin...

I was handed a plastic bag by Leonelle to throw up. There was nothing I would let out, I had not eaten properly since breakfast, so I bawled like a baby instead in frustration. My ride companions told me to sit, instead of laying down. So I sat, and I asked Claro to drive us back to civilization (we were in a pocket forest somewhere) then realized we were on our way. There was no road, really, just a dried up river that we traversed. Some parts we crossed waters. Needless to say, the ride was rough, and the bumps our wheels had to fight made my nausea worse. I wanted to strap myself with the seatbelt to steady myself but I was so dizzy to move. I asked for medicine, it was in a small wallet in my sling. My companions were not sure which one, so one took out all the meds there was in my mini-drugstore, handed it to Leonelle. Leonelle could not read without her glasses so she was unsure, too, if it was the right pill. So she showed me the pill, like she wanted me to read the label. I wen...

The water from the irrigation canal I could see rushing below my feet. I was standing on the steel bars used as cover, and one can see through it for farmers to check the water system. It is a project DAR funded and implemented by the National Irrigation Administration, and we were there to dedicate it to the God, turnover the project to its righful owners, our farmer-beneficiaries. And so I stood there, listening to the pastor pray over the project before the ceremonial ribbon-cutting. I could feel the energy of the water rush, up to my spine. I looked below, through my red shoes, and felt like I would fall in and drown. The feeling is much like when I look down from a glass elevator, there are not just butterflies in my stomach. I think there are a mighty barrage of many more creatures in there all scratching their way up my throat and make me vomit. Cold sweat started to form at the back of my neck, so I gestured towards Leonelle and mouthed, 'maulawak', which means 'I a...