Is that where the lagoon is?
You see, it’s the second time I’ve been to the lagoon. The first time I went here during my first week in UP, I didn’t know what it was called. Back then I thought of it as a nice place to hang out. I really love the sight of trees and the place was a beautiful sight. I really enjoyed my first walk in the pathways of the lagoon. It’s actually sad to think I did not get to visit it again ‘til now because of certain rumors—which are actually true.
I see a bunch of kids on a platform. They’re probably rehearsing for a contest. Carol Fest perhaps? Not far away are three students walking on the path. The girl in the group is in black, just like the girl in a group of three walking behind me. I can tell because I just passed by them.
I’m a few steps from the beginning of the path. I see the green grass, the curvy pathway paved on it.
Now here where the three students were, my surroundings suddenly seemed different. Just a minute ago I was on the roadside. Vehicles came and blew smoke…now it all smells like grass. I smell plants, but not a garden.
Here is where the lagoon starts.
The bunch of kids is students rehearsing after all. They’re practicing a choreographed piece. “Dombre dombre aahh” they chant.
I remember when I used to rehearse for a speech choir in high school. Our main chant was then “Umbalumyung bayung bayung.” All our hard work paid off. We were able to perform a well-choreographed piece at the quadrangle. I-Yanga, and our then president Ronniel Florendo.
These students may take a while.
At my left I see a large trunk with smaller stumps around it. The size of the one in the middle is just amazing. I wonder what kind of tree it is.
This lagoon is terrible. Black water? This is just bad. At least the trees make up for it.
Oh, it’s cement. They’re all made of cement. It’s disappointing, but I have to admit that who ever was responsible did a good job. These look like stumps from a few feet away. I guess the shady surroundings aid a lot in creating the illusion.
Now you may be wondering why I’m here at the lagoon. After all, I did say I had no plans of coming here again. Well, I’m observing the surroundings for a class paper. Look, here comes my classmates now. Some of my female classmates gather on the table as well. There are no more seats left. The others wander elsewhere.
The girls in the platform are doing a formation. Pretty much like a cheerleading pyramid though far from it at the same time. The girl in the leftmost side puts her leg on top of her classmate’s back who is on all fours. Her left arm is perpendicular to her thighs while her right is freely dropped at her side.
Those two guys were the first to come out of the room. One of them utters a curse.
It’s now 12nn. It’s about time I look around.
To my northwest are nice trees. They’re bluish white in color, like those you see in movies when it’s wintertime; no leaves and all that. I must say they do stand out. For the reason being they’re the first I notice. I can also see that my classmates are walking around, looking around. One is standing under a tree, taking notes. The others are as well. As for my seatmates here, they’re watching the rehearsals but I’m not saying that they’re not observing—for they are.
I can’t see Oble from here. What building is that again?
It’s Susan from AOISA walking. What is she doing here?
I met Susan last semester at the Faculty Center. I was trying to contact my cousin when she approached me. She’s from abroad, Colorado I think. So she’s asking me if I’d like to spend a conversation with her about the love of God and all that. I’m already ministry involved in a local church and I told her about it. She said her goodbye then left. She never talked to me again though we meet from time to time.
I want to finish the pathway. Perhaps I should start walking. Hey, it’s “I am a Filipino” by Carlos P. Romulo the kids are rehearsing, the same piece we had in my high school freshman year.
Do you hear the birds chirping? I cannot see them but I know they’re here.
I want to write Dec. 3 on this big cemented stump table as a reply to a vandalism conversation. It says:
Patayin natin ang karibal,
Para walang sagabal!
=Dec. 01, 2009=
=Tuesday=
Sige, patayin natin,
Dec. 2, 2009
Nah, I’ll just walk around. Besides, I’m not exactly into vandalism. Look, a ‘Happy’ peanut wrapper.
I realize I don’t want to follow the path after all. I’ll just walk to the left, I’ve never gone there before. I hear a violin playing.
There’s a monument here by Abueva and sons ’96. Are they Chinese? Ha-ha. I learned from CL40 that Chinese businessmen (aren’t they all?) indicate the name of the founder + sons since it’s always a family business in their case. I live in a Chinese community and I know exactly what she meant by Tan & Sons, Lim & Sons, and the like. I see a lot of these around the corner. (Hey look! There’s Oble.) As for Abueva and Sons, they’re business here is a sculpture of three women holding the Philippine flag. Well, there’s nothing more to see here and this is where the lagoon would end. Do I go left or go back?
I’ve never had a good look at Oble before. What for anyway? Bah, left it is.
Here is the entrance and my way to that place. I’m standing between two white-washed walls with red margins at the bottom. With me is a ‘Sugo’ peanut wrapper and a Y-shaped twig. I don’t suppose they’ll be accompanying me if I walk on. They’re lost. I walk by the right wall.
There are big black ants walking on the top of the wall. It’s not exactly a wall by the way, it’s not that high and it’s just the end of this sort of arena. The ants have silver linings on their bodies. It was just last week when I first saw this kind of ants; for the second time I come across them. I was coming from my CW10 class (the class I’m writing this for—well, mostly) and I had a cup of coffee in my hand courtesy of an event at FC. I was waiting outside room 121 at Palma when I saw the ant. It was all alone and I tried to pour coffee on it. I did not succeed.
Like that ant, I’m alone right now. I don’t see anyone. When I came, a guy was just walking out. It’s a vast green field and my new acquaintances at the entrance had abandoned me just as I predicted. I miss PNU all of a sudden. When my mom was still studying there she used to bring us along. Her classes were on Saturday and instead of leaving me and my siblings at home, she’ll bring us along. I have lots of fun memories there. The one thing I love most about PNU is their vast green grass field. I’ll just get out of here.
I see red flowers on trees, yellow ones on high shrubs. I’m not using the path again. I see that the grass is dead. I’ll just leap over this part of the land. It might not be so safe. Our professor warned us about probable accidents. By the way, remind me to come by FC1013 later. I still have to submit a paper.
I’m now on the paved way, here at the outskirts of the lagoon. I turn around and follow the path.
I’m thinking of eating the mangoes in my bag. I just bought them this morning at Philcoa. I got them for P20 from one of the vendors in front of Mercury Drugstore. I lost 2lbs by the way. I take my measurement every week or two at Mercury. Last week, I gained four.
The same classmate is still on the same spot. She was there when I started walking. I wonder if she even moved. Maybe she’s doing an essay on a spatial perspective or something. That long-haired classmate of mine was my seatmate during the first day. She was playing with a PSP. I haven’t seen her use it again since.
I hear someone approaching; I have to stand aside—but not too much for I do not have much safe ground. He has just passed by. A yellow butterfly is fluttering on a flowerless low shrub.
Isn’t that Carmille over there? I don’t remember if she was wearing red but I can see that she’s wearing a ribbon. That I know. She’s my groupmate and her signature outfit I a comfortable tee, pants, rubber shoes, bagpack, and ribbon. It must be her. I don’t really think it’ll be a good idea to approach her.
The bunch of kids isn’t done yet with their rehearsals. Speaking of which, I have rehearsals. It’s been really hectic and I feel bad I can’t attend as much as I need to.
The smell is just terrible. Are all lagoons like these? I’ve never been to any before except this one at the heart of UP. The pavement is even cracked. It’s not safe here—psychologically even.
There’s a short, narrow footbridge in front of me and ahead is deep grass. I can’t find a way to the Epsilon Theatrum. I don’t intend to come closer to the rehearsing students but I would love to explore a little more. How could people watch performances on that platform? For clearly, there is no place to sit. There’s mud, grass, and puddles of dirty everywhere. The stage is good enough for a small audience though. A small performance will only require a small audience anyway. The students are running from the top again. How do I get there? There’s another foot bridge to my left. It’s a log this time. To my right is a footbridge that looks like a crutch. I’ll go with the left one.
Someone is approaching again, I have to move aside.
What? The log is cement after all. I really have a bad set of eyes. Well, at least I know that it will hold. Do I really want to take this risk?
Last semester in my Comm3 class, our professor held a parlor game. You know, the personality quiz type. There were a lot and one thing I remember well is a result that says I take risks. It’s true to some extent.
“Courage!” the speech choir shouts. It’s the only distinct sound I hear right now. Do I go?
Yeah.
There are a lot of flying objects here. Down there are 3 white flowers, the prettiest ones I’ve seen yet in the lagoon. Everything is foul: black water, the reeking odor, dark leaves, lifeless twigs, and brown insects. The set of flowers is such a beautiful sight, I have to take a picture of it and keep it as a reminder-slash-souvenir. I’m glad I took the risk but I choose to stop here. I’m going back. I hear the waters and their music to my ears. No, why is the water dark? Where has its beauty gone?
To my left are two yellow butterflies fluttering. They’re so small but they bring life to thee black mud and mossy puddles of water.
There are too many insects. There are very small ones and have they not been in a grou, I wouldn’t have noticed.
I hear an insect. It’s a cricket and its sound brings pain to my ears.
It’s all so different from Montalban. The sights in the mountain are very beautiful. It’s sad to think that I hold more memories of what is not beautiful there. I remember every piece of bad mosaics. It’s so different from what I see now.
I hear the violin again. What song is it? It overpowers the insects, the choir, the water, there is no background anymore. The vibrating strings enchant me.
I cannot stand here and listen. I still have lots to do. I face my right and I feel that I am all alone. Over there is someone walking. He’s in black but he’s soon gone. To my left, I know that life will meet me. Reality would strike and I’ll be back to my life.
I have to go back. I need to.
Monday, December 7, 2009
Sunday, December 6, 2009
Power of the Tongue
“It always pays to be suspicious of words and to be wary of them”
Something always lies between a person’s words. Consciously or not, a person affects others by what he speaks of. Normally, a person would quote something he made up in his head, or have gained from what he has already learned, and that alone creates conflict. Everyone is unique in practically all ways, let alone way of thinking. Ideas of one person either clash or bond with another’s. Mere words form an invisible field around a certain group of people and in most cases that initiates something to take place.
Vaclav Havel’s speech, “A Word About Words,” interestingly tackles how words may come about in order to settle the course of history. It is true that a lot of people try to make the world a better place—the fact is, the general public desires such thing—it’s just that certain people have entirely different theories on how to make such take place. Although, one must admit that such disparate ways still meet at certain points one way or another. After all, it’s still he same goal, may it be for personal or public gain.
The miracle of language, as any department of science would testify to, started from the desire to communicate. If it were true that man evolved without the patterns of speech, the first words were probably business-related. After all, every other human concern can be and is better expressed by gesture and therefore didn’t need words. From there on, language evolved and is still developing today. Language aided philosophy and now we have the art of Mathematics and Science. It contributed most of course to Literature which is dependent on words rather than numbers and symbols. Of course, in spite of all this knowledge language has aided us in having access to, we have to admit that there is a whole lot more yet unknown to man. The use of words is man’s response to such—prayer, recitation, speech, incantations, expression of desires, thoughts, and inquiry, all these uttered and written with varieties of language.
Words are particularly powerful in its way. Have you ever noticed how certain sentences discreetly grouped together make a man go mad? I mean, there are songs and texts that make a man kill. There are books which captivate a man’s whole being and some people actually devote themselves to a certain someone all because of the power they feel in that someone’s words. Words can persuade, convince, prove, testify....and not only authorities take part in executing certain people who serve as threats—people who speak against their activities, or lest they verbalize what is not yet spoken of.
No one may be able to measure neither the height nor the width of the power of the tongue but history hints a vague figure. Many times in the course of history did groups of people stand up to say something. Even more times did a community march off to express their belief on what was spoken of. Many times people have gone to battle, even wars, because of something another party has expressed. Something does entitle words to such power, but where does it come from—do words entitle themselves to it or those speaking or hearing such give it power? Of any way, it can’t be denied that words have the power to move.
Words do not change but meaning that accompanies them do. It all depends on whom, how, and when words are used. As Havel would put it, words move up and down the meter humble-arrogant. Words give either hope or despair. “The tongue that brings healing is a tree of life, but a deceitful tongue crushes the spirit” it says in Proverbs 15:4. Variety of meanings pertaining to one word is inevitable but a great word losing its sense is a sad thought. What’s in a word anyway? It’s just a bunch of letters put together in order to represent, even more, a vague thought. Even the simplest word such as ‘box’ invites uncertainty around it. Language itself is a mystery. Isn’t it a wonder then how man is able to put together a mystery and make it obsolete with the use of words?
Even after everything that has been discussed, one must realize that his self is still the source of every letter, every syllable coming out of the mouth. Therefore words cannot be blamed. It all goes back to the source and how he is able to convey the message he wants to express. After all, conflicts do arise while the message is being sent to its receiver. In conclusion, one has to take responsibility for his own words.
“The tongue has the power of life and death and those who love it will eat its fruit”
Something always lies between a person’s words. Consciously or not, a person affects others by what he speaks of. Normally, a person would quote something he made up in his head, or have gained from what he has already learned, and that alone creates conflict. Everyone is unique in practically all ways, let alone way of thinking. Ideas of one person either clash or bond with another’s. Mere words form an invisible field around a certain group of people and in most cases that initiates something to take place.
Vaclav Havel’s speech, “A Word About Words,” interestingly tackles how words may come about in order to settle the course of history. It is true that a lot of people try to make the world a better place—the fact is, the general public desires such thing—it’s just that certain people have entirely different theories on how to make such take place. Although, one must admit that such disparate ways still meet at certain points one way or another. After all, it’s still he same goal, may it be for personal or public gain.
The miracle of language, as any department of science would testify to, started from the desire to communicate. If it were true that man evolved without the patterns of speech, the first words were probably business-related. After all, every other human concern can be and is better expressed by gesture and therefore didn’t need words. From there on, language evolved and is still developing today. Language aided philosophy and now we have the art of Mathematics and Science. It contributed most of course to Literature which is dependent on words rather than numbers and symbols. Of course, in spite of all this knowledge language has aided us in having access to, we have to admit that there is a whole lot more yet unknown to man. The use of words is man’s response to such—prayer, recitation, speech, incantations, expression of desires, thoughts, and inquiry, all these uttered and written with varieties of language.
Words are particularly powerful in its way. Have you ever noticed how certain sentences discreetly grouped together make a man go mad? I mean, there are songs and texts that make a man kill. There are books which captivate a man’s whole being and some people actually devote themselves to a certain someone all because of the power they feel in that someone’s words. Words can persuade, convince, prove, testify....and not only authorities take part in executing certain people who serve as threats—people who speak against their activities, or lest they verbalize what is not yet spoken of.
No one may be able to measure neither the height nor the width of the power of the tongue but history hints a vague figure. Many times in the course of history did groups of people stand up to say something. Even more times did a community march off to express their belief on what was spoken of. Many times people have gone to battle, even wars, because of something another party has expressed. Something does entitle words to such power, but where does it come from—do words entitle themselves to it or those speaking or hearing such give it power? Of any way, it can’t be denied that words have the power to move.
Words do not change but meaning that accompanies them do. It all depends on whom, how, and when words are used. As Havel would put it, words move up and down the meter humble-arrogant. Words give either hope or despair. “The tongue that brings healing is a tree of life, but a deceitful tongue crushes the spirit” it says in Proverbs 15:4. Variety of meanings pertaining to one word is inevitable but a great word losing its sense is a sad thought. What’s in a word anyway? It’s just a bunch of letters put together in order to represent, even more, a vague thought. Even the simplest word such as ‘box’ invites uncertainty around it. Language itself is a mystery. Isn’t it a wonder then how man is able to put together a mystery and make it obsolete with the use of words?
Even after everything that has been discussed, one must realize that his self is still the source of every letter, every syllable coming out of the mouth. Therefore words cannot be blamed. It all goes back to the source and how he is able to convey the message he wants to express. After all, conflicts do arise while the message is being sent to its receiver. In conclusion, one has to take responsibility for his own words.
“The tongue has the power of life and death and those who love it will eat its fruit”
Saturday, December 5, 2009
Pointing the Telescope
I have never been familiar with telescopes; I might have used one twice at most. I have the least idea on what it feels like to look to somewhere afar. With what has been though, I have the most experience. I usually act on impulse then think things over after. It sounds silly but it’s true. So I guess I have an idea when Schopenhauer says “Point the telescope.” As a matter of fact I do but it’s pretty much the other way around. He pretty much tells it like looking at the present as if it were the past. Quite different from live ‘one day at a time’. And I’m a person who lives looking at the future; I miss much of the present really. So if I were to follow Arthur Schopenhauer, it will take lots of adjustment. The whole concept is pretty enticing. Now what do I think?
If I were to think from the future, which is the opposite of what I usually do, I would see things based on probable circumstances. I have a good sense of intuition which means I’ll have an easy time figuring out what is most likely to happen. Although given all of these, I’m still too much of a thinker. I’m not exactly very intuitive and like what I’ve already said. I’m better at looking to the future and not from it. Of course, that is the purpose of philosophers. Some of them exist to explain what already is and just elaborates matters people already know by heart. People who still have to experience them get advantage in these. For others, they philosophize to figure out what would be better. Hence, the political ideologies of communism and fascism et cetera. What Schopenhauer suggests is not exactly out of the ordinary but it is not so usual. There are not many everyday people who perform like he suggests. As for me, I’m obviously not one of them.
I’m more of an emotional, sentimental person but not overly-dramatic and I could make use of the function of mind ruling over the heart. Sometimes, or many times, I do things even when I think it’s wrong because I feel that it is the right thing to do. And what do you know, my intuition fails! Well not exactly... Uhm, is intuition of the mind or of the heart? Either way, I think a lot but I usually act the way I feel.
When I think of it, what Schopenhauer suggests is very beneficial. It rings better judgment to me. But I don’t really think I’ll do as he says—at least not in the near future.
I wish I had a telescope. I’ll look at what I can’t see and try to look up and see the stars. I don’t want to watch the present. I’m already living it and have enough of it. The future has it’s element of surprise. In today, I have nothing to prove since everything is laid bare. As for the future, I’ll be proven either right or wrong. The past is behind me, there’s no turning back now. The future is what lies ahead.
If I were to think from the future, which is the opposite of what I usually do, I would see things based on probable circumstances. I have a good sense of intuition which means I’ll have an easy time figuring out what is most likely to happen. Although given all of these, I’m still too much of a thinker. I’m not exactly very intuitive and like what I’ve already said. I’m better at looking to the future and not from it. Of course, that is the purpose of philosophers. Some of them exist to explain what already is and just elaborates matters people already know by heart. People who still have to experience them get advantage in these. For others, they philosophize to figure out what would be better. Hence, the political ideologies of communism and fascism et cetera. What Schopenhauer suggests is not exactly out of the ordinary but it is not so usual. There are not many everyday people who perform like he suggests. As for me, I’m obviously not one of them.
I’m more of an emotional, sentimental person but not overly-dramatic and I could make use of the function of mind ruling over the heart. Sometimes, or many times, I do things even when I think it’s wrong because I feel that it is the right thing to do. And what do you know, my intuition fails! Well not exactly... Uhm, is intuition of the mind or of the heart? Either way, I think a lot but I usually act the way I feel.
When I think of it, what Schopenhauer suggests is very beneficial. It rings better judgment to me. But I don’t really think I’ll do as he says—at least not in the near future.
I wish I had a telescope. I’ll look at what I can’t see and try to look up and see the stars. I don’t want to watch the present. I’m already living it and have enough of it. The future has it’s element of surprise. In today, I have nothing to prove since everything is laid bare. As for the future, I’ll be proven either right or wrong. The past is behind me, there’s no turning back now. The future is what lies ahead.
Tuesday, December 1, 2009
On Lightness and Weight
The world is a trap. Now that’s a statement. This is perhaps one of the most striking things Milan Kundera has said in his novel “The Unbearable Lightness of Being.” On the other side of this statement is the fact that man has free will. He can make his own choices particular to his own liking on how he would want his own circumstances to turn out. But there’s a problem. Man has no control on all things. That is how the trap sets in. Perhaps the trap is free will itself. Nature throws anything it desires at us and we can do nothing about it. We have no control over what people do, say, and we have the least say on how they would affect us. We may have control on the affective level (emotional and mental) but with particular actions such us giving of sarcastic remarks, bad-mouthing, ruining our territories and personal spaces...they will do what they want and force their own free will. Now we have another trap, one thing we would have to go with the flow with or struggle against and anything in between. The world’s a whole jungle of free wills preying on one another for survival making the whole picture a set of trap. Even if man did not possess free will, the setting would be a trap because he’s forced to do what he is hard-wired to do. Being in trap is perhaps nature’s call. One might as well say that the whole universe is a trap.
On lightness—isn’t that supposed to be a great feeling? The term itself suggests ease. In the end it bites back though. Like any very light object carried in the wind, a man cuts every attachment to society, allowing himself to move on from one thing to another easily. This though means one has nothing to look back on, no past to hold on to and life loses it meaning. It is in attaching ourselves into something concrete that we find meaning in our lives. It is without concretion that we find ourselves easily moving along and we have to move on from our past right? The past though is what makes us. We are what we are because of what we were. After all, we need not detach ourselves from the past to be able to move on. Maturity and constant learning are the two things necessary to move on from a painful past or grow out of a childish one and so on. Is it better to be heavy then since it’s okay? Not so much. Holding on to what is and what was does not do so well. Neither does holding fast on what is yet to come. Things need to be open in order to move through life and heavy attachment defeats this need. Either way, meaning is found on heaviness but man is particularly light because escape is the most deluding of all and that is found in lightness. We need meaning and concretion but want escape. In the end, we find ourselves in the trap of our own selves. What a pity for man!
We need to grow out our immaturities though and escape escapism, learn which things to hold on to and which ones to let go. I wouldn’t exactly patronize Tomas because of his vive but I would say that he is the best character among all because of his flexibility. To be able to freely course through life, we would need that resiliency learned through time. It is only by experience after all that we find out which we personally need. The least we can do is think things over carefully. What has man to do but think, work, love, and have faith anyway? It is perhaps best if we have faith in ourselves, our own decisions and find meaning within us. It is we that gives meaning to things after all.
On lightness—isn’t that supposed to be a great feeling? The term itself suggests ease. In the end it bites back though. Like any very light object carried in the wind, a man cuts every attachment to society, allowing himself to move on from one thing to another easily. This though means one has nothing to look back on, no past to hold on to and life loses it meaning. It is in attaching ourselves into something concrete that we find meaning in our lives. It is without concretion that we find ourselves easily moving along and we have to move on from our past right? The past though is what makes us. We are what we are because of what we were. After all, we need not detach ourselves from the past to be able to move on. Maturity and constant learning are the two things necessary to move on from a painful past or grow out of a childish one and so on. Is it better to be heavy then since it’s okay? Not so much. Holding on to what is and what was does not do so well. Neither does holding fast on what is yet to come. Things need to be open in order to move through life and heavy attachment defeats this need. Either way, meaning is found on heaviness but man is particularly light because escape is the most deluding of all and that is found in lightness. We need meaning and concretion but want escape. In the end, we find ourselves in the trap of our own selves. What a pity for man!
We need to grow out our immaturities though and escape escapism, learn which things to hold on to and which ones to let go. I wouldn’t exactly patronize Tomas because of his vive but I would say that he is the best character among all because of his flexibility. To be able to freely course through life, we would need that resiliency learned through time. It is only by experience after all that we find out which we personally need. The least we can do is think things over carefully. What has man to do but think, work, love, and have faith anyway? It is perhaps best if we have faith in ourselves, our own decisions and find meaning within us. It is we that gives meaning to things after all.
Monday, November 23, 2009
The Teacher I am Today
I don’t know if I can call myself a teacher yet. Well, a teacher is a broad term anyway. As learning can be found anywhere, so can teachers be right? Well, as of now I am training through means of undergraduate studies in order to become a professional teacher someday. I am actually pretty much confident I’ll become an English teacher somewhere in the near future. I can practically see it now. I guess this is what other people call “living the dream.” Yes, it is my dream to become a teacher. I always have since I was very young. The difference would be I used to want becoming a Mathematics teacher. Until recently, though not that recent, I developed this passion for literature and reading combined with the passion for teaching that grew in me through time. Then there we have it: an English teacher in the making.
I actually had lots of teaching experiences before (many of us had). I have had classmates and friends ask me to teach or help them with their studies. In my third year in high school, I had a consistent Math session with a friend Sheilla at Dunkin’ Donuts. It was more of a group study really though we get to teach each other every now and then. In my fourth year I had a larger group. We were four, and we always went to the library or canteen to do our homework together. From time to time I get to teach them some Math. We also review together which would suggest that we teach one another. When I was younger I always held ‘classes.’ I’m sure you’ve heard of “bahay-bahayan?” Well, our version of it is teacher-teacher-an. After I stopped playing it (which I did for many years) my sisters did the same. My youngest sibling also has the desire to become the teacher and she continues the ‘legacy’ we’ve made though not so much anymore nowadays. (I’m guessing the fact that we are now leaving in a condominium comprising of teachers had something to do with it.) It’s funny to think that in all of those games we sisters were always the teachers. It was also through those games that I acquired of a pen name—Jenny Alvarez—which I still keep. Now why am I saying all of these? Reminiscing all of these teaching moments allows me to realize how this want have developed in me.
Even though I’m just a sophomore now and am still technically far from becoming a professional teacher, I can already testify that I am dedicated to this profession. I want this so much I am willing to give my all to hone my skills and just grow in it. I’d like to become the teacher I’ve always loved. A teacher who is caring and passionate about her students, mastery of her skills, her profession and developing in it: this is the English teacher I’d want to be. All these may sound generic but uhm I know that reality would always strike that not all teachers-to-be are teacher-aspirants. Not all have their heart in it, or at least not yet. It’s not that I’d like to segregate myself from them but I’d like to say that I feel happy for I know that this is where I belong.
I plan to be a teacher and I plan to give my best and exert much effort in this. And I realize, I have to grow first as a student for every good leader is a first a good follower. I am committed to this and if it were for no one else, I’d willingly do it for myself.
I actually had lots of teaching experiences before (many of us had). I have had classmates and friends ask me to teach or help them with their studies. In my third year in high school, I had a consistent Math session with a friend Sheilla at Dunkin’ Donuts. It was more of a group study really though we get to teach each other every now and then. In my fourth year I had a larger group. We were four, and we always went to the library or canteen to do our homework together. From time to time I get to teach them some Math. We also review together which would suggest that we teach one another. When I was younger I always held ‘classes.’ I’m sure you’ve heard of “bahay-bahayan?” Well, our version of it is teacher-teacher-an. After I stopped playing it (which I did for many years) my sisters did the same. My youngest sibling also has the desire to become the teacher and she continues the ‘legacy’ we’ve made though not so much anymore nowadays. (I’m guessing the fact that we are now leaving in a condominium comprising of teachers had something to do with it.) It’s funny to think that in all of those games we sisters were always the teachers. It was also through those games that I acquired of a pen name—Jenny Alvarez—which I still keep. Now why am I saying all of these? Reminiscing all of these teaching moments allows me to realize how this want have developed in me.
Even though I’m just a sophomore now and am still technically far from becoming a professional teacher, I can already testify that I am dedicated to this profession. I want this so much I am willing to give my all to hone my skills and just grow in it. I’d like to become the teacher I’ve always loved. A teacher who is caring and passionate about her students, mastery of her skills, her profession and developing in it: this is the English teacher I’d want to be. All these may sound generic but uhm I know that reality would always strike that not all teachers-to-be are teacher-aspirants. Not all have their heart in it, or at least not yet. It’s not that I’d like to segregate myself from them but I’d like to say that I feel happy for I know that this is where I belong.
I plan to be a teacher and I plan to give my best and exert much effort in this. And I realize, I have to grow first as a student for every good leader is a first a good follower. I am committed to this and if it were for no one else, I’d willingly do it for myself.
On Hercules’ Pre-History
Early Saturday morning and I was frantic from the moment I got out of bed. It was thirty-six minutes past seven and I had so much to do. I needed to be in school before 10am and I had my rehearsals at 3pm in my mind. My things weren’t fixed yet, I haven’t taken a bath, I haven’t had my devotions and I was running out of time. I wasn’t able to take a bath right away though, for my father was washing the dogs. I prepared my bag instead. Time was still against me though, I was ready by 9am and travel usually took an hour and a half. That morning, it did take that long for me to get to school. The AS lobby clock read 10:37 and I was late.
I went to U.P. Diliman’s Ma Wilfrido Guerrero theatre that morning to watch a play entitled “Amphitryon.” I’ll be honest...when I heard of the play’s title, I initially thought Greek. It did sound Greek-y and it was. The stage wasn’t exactly the typical Grecian setting but all the elements of a Greek play was there (it’s not technically Greek of course, but Greece was definitely the setting, or at least the inspiration...I don’t have all the details so I’m not exactly certain). There were the gods playing a part, the woman element, and the male hero. The adaptation though was far from Greek, it was a hundred percent Pinoy theatre. Of course, the original script was already translated and elements were added as the writer saw fit. All in all, the play seemed to sell to the Filipino audience... It was cool.
When I came to the theatre, Amphitryon was already saying goodbye to his wife. I was able to start that scene. I could tell because he just ushered his wife to the bed. I know that I missed some parts but I was able to catch up. That is the beauty of some plays (and movies)—you are able to catch up anyway. Though I think I must clarify that beginnings are important to me. I always feel that I’ve missed a lot. Other characters were soon introduced: Soshas and Charice. They were this couple, servants to Amphitryon and his wife, respectively. The plot soon moved on to Amphitryon winning the battle he was sent to. When he came back to his palace though, the mystery of another Amphitryon and Soshas shattered the happily married couple’s life. In the later part of the play, it is explained that Jove posted himself as an Amphityron. Ha, Zeus. He always comes down in order to satisfy his desires of various women.
It’s funny, you could tell who the real Amphitryon was even when the characters were all in a blur. Knowing a character, and understanding his persona from the start (I believe that this skill is developed through exposure to literature) gave someone the advantage to tell who’s who, what’s what, and which is which even before the author/writer reveals these things. It defeats the element of mystery most of the times though. Well, that’s for differentiating writers who can take hold of his audience’ attention ‘til the end from those who can’t. Then yes, Jove finally gave up his love to return Amphityron’s wife to his arms. He gave them Hercules as a gift. That was quite unfair though, mostly on Amphitryon’s part since Zeus was still father to the boy. Hercules was a god, not exactly a man-gift. I hated how Alchime didn’t recognize his own husband. From the start ‘til the end, she was at a total lost! What a pity. Well anyway, so much for that.
I liked how the writer incorporated comedy into the play. It’s not exactly funny though how the play made use of foul language and physical abuse as elements. I mean, it could have been humour without the explicitness (forgive the term...). They were able to make use of music, familiar lines, code-switching, and choreography anyway. They were good laughs too. Plus, Soshas and Charice were good characters. All in all, the play was a good comedy, both in technical and modern terms. Although I must admit that I didn’t exactly get the message of the play. Or at least, in my opinion, it would have been better if Alchime made her way out on her own, not like how everything was done for her. She was too much of a weak character to be Amphitryon’s wife. That turned out to be useful though in displaying Amphitryon’s good qualities. So I guess it’s all a good mix. There was the husband Amphitryon, the traditional woman Alchime, the comics from both sides (and interconnected, which means they could be classified as one element-slash-ingredient) Soshas and Charice, the hard Soshas impersonator (a contrast to Soshas’ comic), and the god Jove. It’s a perfect blend. I might not have enjoyed it to the point of standing-ovation but I’ll say that it was a good play.
I went to U.P. Diliman’s Ma Wilfrido Guerrero theatre that morning to watch a play entitled “Amphitryon.” I’ll be honest...when I heard of the play’s title, I initially thought Greek. It did sound Greek-y and it was. The stage wasn’t exactly the typical Grecian setting but all the elements of a Greek play was there (it’s not technically Greek of course, but Greece was definitely the setting, or at least the inspiration...I don’t have all the details so I’m not exactly certain). There were the gods playing a part, the woman element, and the male hero. The adaptation though was far from Greek, it was a hundred percent Pinoy theatre. Of course, the original script was already translated and elements were added as the writer saw fit. All in all, the play seemed to sell to the Filipino audience... It was cool.
When I came to the theatre, Amphitryon was already saying goodbye to his wife. I was able to start that scene. I could tell because he just ushered his wife to the bed. I know that I missed some parts but I was able to catch up. That is the beauty of some plays (and movies)—you are able to catch up anyway. Though I think I must clarify that beginnings are important to me. I always feel that I’ve missed a lot. Other characters were soon introduced: Soshas and Charice. They were this couple, servants to Amphitryon and his wife, respectively. The plot soon moved on to Amphitryon winning the battle he was sent to. When he came back to his palace though, the mystery of another Amphitryon and Soshas shattered the happily married couple’s life. In the later part of the play, it is explained that Jove posted himself as an Amphityron. Ha, Zeus. He always comes down in order to satisfy his desires of various women.
It’s funny, you could tell who the real Amphitryon was even when the characters were all in a blur. Knowing a character, and understanding his persona from the start (I believe that this skill is developed through exposure to literature) gave someone the advantage to tell who’s who, what’s what, and which is which even before the author/writer reveals these things. It defeats the element of mystery most of the times though. Well, that’s for differentiating writers who can take hold of his audience’ attention ‘til the end from those who can’t. Then yes, Jove finally gave up his love to return Amphityron’s wife to his arms. He gave them Hercules as a gift. That was quite unfair though, mostly on Amphitryon’s part since Zeus was still father to the boy. Hercules was a god, not exactly a man-gift. I hated how Alchime didn’t recognize his own husband. From the start ‘til the end, she was at a total lost! What a pity. Well anyway, so much for that.
I liked how the writer incorporated comedy into the play. It’s not exactly funny though how the play made use of foul language and physical abuse as elements. I mean, it could have been humour without the explicitness (forgive the term...). They were able to make use of music, familiar lines, code-switching, and choreography anyway. They were good laughs too. Plus, Soshas and Charice were good characters. All in all, the play was a good comedy, both in technical and modern terms. Although I must admit that I didn’t exactly get the message of the play. Or at least, in my opinion, it would have been better if Alchime made her way out on her own, not like how everything was done for her. She was too much of a weak character to be Amphitryon’s wife. That turned out to be useful though in displaying Amphitryon’s good qualities. So I guess it’s all a good mix. There was the husband Amphitryon, the traditional woman Alchime, the comics from both sides (and interconnected, which means they could be classified as one element-slash-ingredient) Soshas and Charice, the hard Soshas impersonator (a contrast to Soshas’ comic), and the god Jove. It’s a perfect blend. I might not have enjoyed it to the point of standing-ovation but I’ll say that it was a good play.
Thursday, November 19, 2009
On Expressing One’s Thoughts
To be perfectly frank, I am not afraid of death. One might even say I’m quite thrilled by the thought of it. I’m not trying to be morbid or anything, but what excites me really is what awaits me after death.
I am a Christian and I believe in life after death. Even more, I do believe that I am destined to go to heaven after I die. I’ve gone through moments of doubt times before but now... well, death doesn’t give a scare. I know where I am and I recognize the consequences of my actions. As long as I am breathing, I try to correct my mistakes or at the very least reconcile with those I may have offended.
Montaigne’s essay, “To Philosophize is to Learn How to Die,” spoke to me as if it was a personal letter. It spoke of truths, facts of life, things I believe in, and thoughts I go against. Of any way, it told hard truths which are practically inevitable but are seldom heard. Philosophers always catch my attention. They have this certain aura about them, best expressed in writing. I would like to call my self both a writer and philosopher but I am not in the near end of either one. If a philosopher philosophizes about life and what is not life, then I’m far from being one. Death doesn’t occur to me unless an external force incurs such matter. I haven’t experienced death of another that greatly affected me, and I’m in no little way paranoid of it. I would have to say I don’t think of such matter as often as Montaigne or any other recognized philosopher would. What I know though is that I have my own way of thinking and matters I concern myself with that others might not find interesting.
I may not be a philosopher found on a bookshelf corner and I may be different, but as any other intellect would say: I am wearing the same skin the walkers of this planet do.
I am a Christian and I believe in life after death. Even more, I do believe that I am destined to go to heaven after I die. I’ve gone through moments of doubt times before but now... well, death doesn’t give a scare. I know where I am and I recognize the consequences of my actions. As long as I am breathing, I try to correct my mistakes or at the very least reconcile with those I may have offended.
Montaigne’s essay, “To Philosophize is to Learn How to Die,” spoke to me as if it was a personal letter. It spoke of truths, facts of life, things I believe in, and thoughts I go against. Of any way, it told hard truths which are practically inevitable but are seldom heard. Philosophers always catch my attention. They have this certain aura about them, best expressed in writing. I would like to call my self both a writer and philosopher but I am not in the near end of either one. If a philosopher philosophizes about life and what is not life, then I’m far from being one. Death doesn’t occur to me unless an external force incurs such matter. I haven’t experienced death of another that greatly affected me, and I’m in no little way paranoid of it. I would have to say I don’t think of such matter as often as Montaigne or any other recognized philosopher would. What I know though is that I have my own way of thinking and matters I concern myself with that others might not find interesting.
I may not be a philosopher found on a bookshelf corner and I may be different, but as any other intellect would say: I am wearing the same skin the walkers of this planet do.
Sunday, November 15, 2009
Not Again
When I saw Inferno on the course syllabus, I thought to myself, “Oh no, not again.” It’s prejudice of course and apparently, it did have a negative effect on how I treated the reading. Inferno was nothing new to me, even though I only took it up once; it was just last semester though. To stress my point, I didn’t finish reading the text anymore. I could give an excuse that I ran out of time (it’s true) but I do remember making a conscious decision of not doing so. I know it’s not something a student should confess but at least it’s honesty. And since I’m already giving myself out, I would confess something a student should. I enjoyed the discussion this time way more than in English12. Well, I can’t really tell...but I’m confident to say that it seemed more interesting this time around. Discussions required more thinking and I definitely admire the participation it needed. It wasn’t exactly the roomful of philosophers-slash-scientists seen in movies but at least it was something. I should be discussing about how I feel about the book though. I guess I could excuse myself by reasoning out that I’m still in the intro? Ha-ha. Moving on...
Dante’s version of hell required a little less philosophy since it already had its origins. I would have to say that all Dante had to do was put things together, using imagination and literature for spice. Of course, I am not belittling what Dante has gone through to come up with the “Comedia.” What he did required much effort, or at least experience. I think trying to clarify my point just made me lose it.
“Inferno” is all about meaning and symbolism, obviously. As much as it required careful consideration on the author’s part (although of course, I couldn’t actually tell since I haven’t spoken with Dante himself), as a reader and student I had to understand his viewpoint to appreciate what he wrote. Although I have more idea on what Dante probably wanted to tell his readers, I wouldn’t profess that I actually appreciate “Inferno” in an affective level yet I do appreciate his work as a literature. Am I being indecisive? Honestly, I cannot make up my mind. It’s not that I am not capable of doing such but a person can’t simply have one point nor one opinion on anything. At least, not I. Well, that’s literature for me. Fortunately, I can make a stand on other things. I guess it’s all about having an open mind.
Ah, open-mindedness...it’s not necessarily beneficial. With Dante, I have to keep in mind that this is a virtue necessary. See, I have to look at “Inferno” as a student, as a literary reader, and as a Christian. What am I to do? I have to read the book even though I don’t exactly want to. I think I need to breathe for a while.
Ay Dante, why ever did you write about hell? What was your point and what is your purpose for writing such? Do you have any idea how you torture me? I am here in front of the computer writing about your book because I’m required to. I don’t even know where to start. In all honesty, I can’t take other people’s word. I want to understand yours. I wouldn’t bother to take the time trying to find out though, although now it seems that I would, but no. It would take me years and I wouldn’t be able to say that I am right for your not here nor there in the future to tell me. Ugh, it’s too much pressure. I need to release myself from this.
I’ll make one statement.
I really hope and pray to God that I wouldn’t need to touch “Inferno” ever again.
Dante’s version of hell required a little less philosophy since it already had its origins. I would have to say that all Dante had to do was put things together, using imagination and literature for spice. Of course, I am not belittling what Dante has gone through to come up with the “Comedia.” What he did required much effort, or at least experience. I think trying to clarify my point just made me lose it.
“Inferno” is all about meaning and symbolism, obviously. As much as it required careful consideration on the author’s part (although of course, I couldn’t actually tell since I haven’t spoken with Dante himself), as a reader and student I had to understand his viewpoint to appreciate what he wrote. Although I have more idea on what Dante probably wanted to tell his readers, I wouldn’t profess that I actually appreciate “Inferno” in an affective level yet I do appreciate his work as a literature. Am I being indecisive? Honestly, I cannot make up my mind. It’s not that I am not capable of doing such but a person can’t simply have one point nor one opinion on anything. At least, not I. Well, that’s literature for me. Fortunately, I can make a stand on other things. I guess it’s all about having an open mind.
Ah, open-mindedness...it’s not necessarily beneficial. With Dante, I have to keep in mind that this is a virtue necessary. See, I have to look at “Inferno” as a student, as a literary reader, and as a Christian. What am I to do? I have to read the book even though I don’t exactly want to. I think I need to breathe for a while.
Ay Dante, why ever did you write about hell? What was your point and what is your purpose for writing such? Do you have any idea how you torture me? I am here in front of the computer writing about your book because I’m required to. I don’t even know where to start. In all honesty, I can’t take other people’s word. I want to understand yours. I wouldn’t bother to take the time trying to find out though, although now it seems that I would, but no. It would take me years and I wouldn’t be able to say that I am right for your not here nor there in the future to tell me. Ugh, it’s too much pressure. I need to release myself from this.
I’ll make one statement.
I really hope and pray to God that I wouldn’t need to touch “Inferno” ever again.
Saturday, November 14, 2009
Horizons
I couldn’t finish”Les Misérables” even if I had too. Even the 600-paged abridged version takes me a while. Don’t get me wrong though. This book plus “To Kill a Mockingbird” was what got me into reading and the want to read made me take up English instead of Math. I finished the book when I was in fourth year high school in two months or so. It was the third novel I finished in my life. In first year college I was collecting novels and other literary articles. Now why am I telling this? It’s not completely irrelevant. I never liked reading tiny letters in many pages until I found out that it was worth it. I really liked the novel—it was very touching too. Aside from that, the book provides unfamiliar terms that helps me improve my vocabulary. Now on the book...
Prejudice is such a harsh reality. What you were will always haunt you one way or the other for the rest of your life. It is only in places where no one knows about your past will you be able to escape from these haunting. Sometimes we catch ourselves reliving the past that it’s hard to move on. Even if we won’t attach ourselves to it anymore, other people will. The worst comes in when this attachment prevents us from change. We want a better life, we want to be a better person, and we want a future! But no, these things will keep dragging us down until they leave us. It only leaves through forgiveness and forgetfulness. An all-aspect approach will be necessary. We need to forgive and forget, as well as others, and then we all move on towards the future.
I do not personally like Javert nor would I say that I dislike him. The feeling’s pretty neutral. He’s more like a figure of authority/power/force than a character taking role since he’s always the police present. It’s the consistency of him that makes him more of a character in the intellect than of the feel. For others, well, they all represented something but they played roles; though these roles were also as major and as important as Javert’s. It’s just that the other characters had shifts while Javert was just Javert until the end. No change. No budge. Just Javert. Victor Hugo was right when he called him a fanatic.
Between bitterness and bouncing off of it, the latter is obviously better. Bitterness creates characters such as the Thenardiérs. They fall and sink deeper every time. They sneer and scold and grow more deceptive each time. It’s not hate that you would feel for them and it’s hard to consider compassion. They’re too inconsiderate and selfish yet they could not help themselves. What kind of people are they? And yet they exist. These are the types of people who mock at society and scorn the government. They even jeer their benefactors. They are leeches who need to suck their own blood.
Cosette (the child) and Gavroche are two characters good enough for a Venn diagram. Both of them are born of the less privileged. One is very much loved; the other is not at all. Both of them believe that they are forgotten. Both of them have to work for a living, both because of the Thenardiér couple; the one in an inn while the other in the streets. They are both clothed in rags and sullen. Both of them were the least bitter. One had developed a fearful character while the other became bold. They were practically the same but their later opportunities were different. The former grew up to be a lady. The former died in battle. Both appreciated.
Is society really that unforgiving? Is society what creates these people? Yes it does play a great role but we ourselves play a greater role in shaping our future, even the present! Given the opportunity to do so, we must seize the chance to climb out of poverty in honesty so that it will all be worthwhile and last in the long run. It is a rare chance to meet this kind of people. Many stay put in were they are, whatever status that might be. The greatest of them all are those who rise from poverty into first class. Marius would have been a great candidate for he struggled much and succeeded much but there is one character that fared better than him: Jean Valjean.
His story is just fascinating and meaningful. How can an orphan move from being indifferent to bitter to generous to just to fatherly? He took his circumstances as they came but he used these to shape a future for him and those around him. Jean Valjean was a developing character and he was kept interesting ‘til the end. Even when he was not the focus, one would find him there, developing or in stagnancy for a while. He though kept moving on. He saw what he was and changed what he did not liked seeing. He was a Thenardiér who seized the opportunity, a Marius who excelled better, a Javert who had compassion, a Bienvenu in his own way. I can learn so much from this Jean’s character. I need to move on in life, bounce off bitterness, seize the opportunities, live in honesty, help others along the way, and much more see God through of it.
Prejudice is such a harsh reality. What you were will always haunt you one way or the other for the rest of your life. It is only in places where no one knows about your past will you be able to escape from these haunting. Sometimes we catch ourselves reliving the past that it’s hard to move on. Even if we won’t attach ourselves to it anymore, other people will. The worst comes in when this attachment prevents us from change. We want a better life, we want to be a better person, and we want a future! But no, these things will keep dragging us down until they leave us. It only leaves through forgiveness and forgetfulness. An all-aspect approach will be necessary. We need to forgive and forget, as well as others, and then we all move on towards the future.
I do not personally like Javert nor would I say that I dislike him. The feeling’s pretty neutral. He’s more like a figure of authority/power/force than a character taking role since he’s always the police present. It’s the consistency of him that makes him more of a character in the intellect than of the feel. For others, well, they all represented something but they played roles; though these roles were also as major and as important as Javert’s. It’s just that the other characters had shifts while Javert was just Javert until the end. No change. No budge. Just Javert. Victor Hugo was right when he called him a fanatic.
Between bitterness and bouncing off of it, the latter is obviously better. Bitterness creates characters such as the Thenardiérs. They fall and sink deeper every time. They sneer and scold and grow more deceptive each time. It’s not hate that you would feel for them and it’s hard to consider compassion. They’re too inconsiderate and selfish yet they could not help themselves. What kind of people are they? And yet they exist. These are the types of people who mock at society and scorn the government. They even jeer their benefactors. They are leeches who need to suck their own blood.
Cosette (the child) and Gavroche are two characters good enough for a Venn diagram. Both of them are born of the less privileged. One is very much loved; the other is not at all. Both of them believe that they are forgotten. Both of them have to work for a living, both because of the Thenardiér couple; the one in an inn while the other in the streets. They are both clothed in rags and sullen. Both of them were the least bitter. One had developed a fearful character while the other became bold. They were practically the same but their later opportunities were different. The former grew up to be a lady. The former died in battle. Both appreciated.
Is society really that unforgiving? Is society what creates these people? Yes it does play a great role but we ourselves play a greater role in shaping our future, even the present! Given the opportunity to do so, we must seize the chance to climb out of poverty in honesty so that it will all be worthwhile and last in the long run. It is a rare chance to meet this kind of people. Many stay put in were they are, whatever status that might be. The greatest of them all are those who rise from poverty into first class. Marius would have been a great candidate for he struggled much and succeeded much but there is one character that fared better than him: Jean Valjean.
His story is just fascinating and meaningful. How can an orphan move from being indifferent to bitter to generous to just to fatherly? He took his circumstances as they came but he used these to shape a future for him and those around him. Jean Valjean was a developing character and he was kept interesting ‘til the end. Even when he was not the focus, one would find him there, developing or in stagnancy for a while. He though kept moving on. He saw what he was and changed what he did not liked seeing. He was a Thenardiér who seized the opportunity, a Marius who excelled better, a Javert who had compassion, a Bienvenu in his own way. I can learn so much from this Jean’s character. I need to move on in life, bounce off bitterness, seize the opportunities, live in honesty, help others along the way, and much more see God through of it.
Comment on the Ditchley Portrait of Elizabeth I
The first thing that captures my eye in this image is Elizabeth's outfit. It makes her seem out of proportion. Well, there goes the fashion of her day. How the image is a portrait of a queen and one way or another it does reflect England in Elizabeth I's reign. In the background is the division of day and night. Technically, the sun rises from the east which makes the majority of visual arts place daylight on the right. Here, the darkness represents the right side. I wonder why. If I were to say that perhaps darkness ruled this era, it would make no sense. Unless of course it does with the painter who thought of such. It really is peculiar to find the clear sky on the left...
The next thing I'd like to take notice of is the "floor" she's stepping on. I can't ell if it's England, or Europe or anything but uhm I would say that the Queen, stepping on a piece of land signifies something. For one is power; another is authority. She is a ruler and she is above this land. It tells so much, although somehow in a negative way. A true ruler wold not step on his/her people. Although, when I think of it, evn God makes the earth His footstool. So I guess it justifies Elizabeth stepping upon her kingdom. But then again, it's always another case.
I wonder what the red spots are for. I take them as legends in a map, whatever those legends stand for. They could be marks of capitals, or battlegrounds...or something else. Well, whatever they are, they provide the conviction that Elizabeth is indeed sanding on a map, which brings us back to the preceding paragraph.
What about Elizabeth's outfit? Well...it's Victorian fashion obviously but what I'd like to take note of are the flowers and jewels all over her. They say that the leader represents the whole (or at least, in most cases). The reason why I'm saying this is because Elizabeth's dress-up could and would provide clues on how England was like. Surely a leader would reflect his/her people.
The flowers. Of course, it would sound cheesy if I would say that the people then were flowery. Sadly enough, I will go with that phrase. It's true anyway. The literature and other forms of text during the Elizabethan period did truly "flower" or bloom. Beyond euphemism, there sprouted great writers who truly were creative, especially when it came to the language of the arts (and vice versa). The English language itself bloomed and developed in this era.
The jewels. Well, obviously England was rich in those times. Otherwise, why call it the Golden Age? England flourished in pragmatically all areas. This of course brought the land to a higher success and level of prosperity. Of course, it looked good on them as the jewels finely suited the queen. What's with the black ring on her left hand's pinky? Well, I honestly would like to have a smart remark on it. Unfortunately, I have none. I could come up with something but I'd rather not try. If it counts, I also wanted to say something about the fans in her ands. It's actually the first I noticed really. I mean, who needs two fans at the same time? For a mere portrait? Hmm... The other one is even tied up to her waist. Come'on, England does not have that hot of a weather, is a fan really necessary? I mean, practically... I guess it's all about high fashion. She is royalty after all.
Look at her crown. I noiced that kings and queens when they are delegated wear the same crown but everything else after this glorious ceremony, they don't wear it anymore. Rarely do they come to it. Royalty either comes up with their own crown or wear none at all. What's up with that?
Lastly comes the board behind her. I think it's a decree or something. The law perhaps. But if it is in fact the law, why put it behind? So, the king-slash-queen is the law now? It is true after all. At least, in her time it was. The ruler always had the last say Only is it now is the queen obsolete, everything is left to the parliament and the prime minister. The queen is now just an accessory (for lack of a better term, I'll use that). It's true anyway. Like a professor once said to his class: "You don't go to England to see the prime minister, you'd like to see the queen!" Well, he's almost perfectly right ha-ha.
The next thing I'd like to take notice of is the "floor" she's stepping on. I can't ell if it's England, or Europe or anything but uhm I would say that the Queen, stepping on a piece of land signifies something. For one is power; another is authority. She is a ruler and she is above this land. It tells so much, although somehow in a negative way. A true ruler wold not step on his/her people. Although, when I think of it, evn God makes the earth His footstool. So I guess it justifies Elizabeth stepping upon her kingdom. But then again, it's always another case.
I wonder what the red spots are for. I take them as legends in a map, whatever those legends stand for. They could be marks of capitals, or battlegrounds...or something else. Well, whatever they are, they provide the conviction that Elizabeth is indeed sanding on a map, which brings us back to the preceding paragraph.
What about Elizabeth's outfit? Well...it's Victorian fashion obviously but what I'd like to take note of are the flowers and jewels all over her. They say that the leader represents the whole (or at least, in most cases). The reason why I'm saying this is because Elizabeth's dress-up could and would provide clues on how England was like. Surely a leader would reflect his/her people.
The flowers. Of course, it would sound cheesy if I would say that the people then were flowery. Sadly enough, I will go with that phrase. It's true anyway. The literature and other forms of text during the Elizabethan period did truly "flower" or bloom. Beyond euphemism, there sprouted great writers who truly were creative, especially when it came to the language of the arts (and vice versa). The English language itself bloomed and developed in this era.
The jewels. Well, obviously England was rich in those times. Otherwise, why call it the Golden Age? England flourished in pragmatically all areas. This of course brought the land to a higher success and level of prosperity. Of course, it looked good on them as the jewels finely suited the queen. What's with the black ring on her left hand's pinky? Well, I honestly would like to have a smart remark on it. Unfortunately, I have none. I could come up with something but I'd rather not try. If it counts, I also wanted to say something about the fans in her ands. It's actually the first I noticed really. I mean, who needs two fans at the same time? For a mere portrait? Hmm... The other one is even tied up to her waist. Come'on, England does not have that hot of a weather, is a fan really necessary? I mean, practically... I guess it's all about high fashion. She is royalty after all.
Look at her crown. I noiced that kings and queens when they are delegated wear the same crown but everything else after this glorious ceremony, they don't wear it anymore. Rarely do they come to it. Royalty either comes up with their own crown or wear none at all. What's up with that?
Lastly comes the board behind her. I think it's a decree or something. The law perhaps. But if it is in fact the law, why put it behind? So, the king-slash-queen is the law now? It is true after all. At least, in her time it was. The ruler always had the last say Only is it now is the queen obsolete, everything is left to the parliament and the prime minister. The queen is now just an accessory (for lack of a better term, I'll use that). It's true anyway. Like a professor once said to his class: "You don't go to England to see the prime minister, you'd like to see the queen!" Well, he's almost perfectly right ha-ha.
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
One Word
Hope.
The task given to the class was to choose a word and cite instances, or rather explain, how the word could serve as a ray of sunshine or as a lethal arrow. The word I chose is cited above. One look at it usually instills a positive outlook upon it. Such a term though affects people differently. Everything serves different meanings to different people. This particular word leans more on to the insides rather than the intellect--or at least, at most cases.
Hope is something that builds up people when they are down but it strikes two ways. It all depends on how the term came about to what situation, and to whom. Take the ill for example. The hope of being healthy again plays a big role. Not only does it put a smile on the sick, but also to those who are concerned for that person, and the doctor/s who provide medication. For those who won't heal anymore, on the other hand, the mention of the term 'hope' brings pain. There was this one person who maintained a positive outlook in life even during her bed-ridden days. Many times she would write down her hopes and dreams in a journal and it hurt her so much for she knew that those things won't come to pass anymore. The hopes that others had and the future that lay ahead of them, the things that she once held were nowhere to be found. The pages she have written also brought pain to the people around her but those same words of hope and dreams brought life to others. There are lots of examples of such.
Hope is a big word when one takes a deep look into it. For one, what is hope to a person and what is that hope needed for? There are hopes to live and bring life to others. For some, there is hope to take revenge, to bring pain to others. Even more, there is the hope of death(for others what awaits them after), the only escape from this world. The hope for one may be essentially different to another.
The term 'hope' may mean little or a lot to the people walking this earth but it all comes to one point. It is inevitable that the future--hope of what lies ahead, or what may happen--is what keeps people to go on. Hope can take shapes and strike in many ways but it will always be what it is. The one word that keeps you and I to walk on.
The task given to the class was to choose a word and cite instances, or rather explain, how the word could serve as a ray of sunshine or as a lethal arrow. The word I chose is cited above. One look at it usually instills a positive outlook upon it. Such a term though affects people differently. Everything serves different meanings to different people. This particular word leans more on to the insides rather than the intellect--or at least, at most cases.
Hope is something that builds up people when they are down but it strikes two ways. It all depends on how the term came about to what situation, and to whom. Take the ill for example. The hope of being healthy again plays a big role. Not only does it put a smile on the sick, but also to those who are concerned for that person, and the doctor/s who provide medication. For those who won't heal anymore, on the other hand, the mention of the term 'hope' brings pain. There was this one person who maintained a positive outlook in life even during her bed-ridden days. Many times she would write down her hopes and dreams in a journal and it hurt her so much for she knew that those things won't come to pass anymore. The hopes that others had and the future that lay ahead of them, the things that she once held were nowhere to be found. The pages she have written also brought pain to the people around her but those same words of hope and dreams brought life to others. There are lots of examples of such.
Hope is a big word when one takes a deep look into it. For one, what is hope to a person and what is that hope needed for? There are hopes to live and bring life to others. For some, there is hope to take revenge, to bring pain to others. Even more, there is the hope of death(for others what awaits them after), the only escape from this world. The hope for one may be essentially different to another.
The term 'hope' may mean little or a lot to the people walking this earth but it all comes to one point. It is inevitable that the future--hope of what lies ahead, or what may happen--is what keeps people to go on. Hope can take shapes and strike in many ways but it will always be what it is. The one word that keeps you and I to walk on.
English Literature at its Peak
Wars, fights, controversies—these all roamed around mainland England. Not only did these political and religious tribulations put men’s lives on the line, it also put the arts into hiding so to speak. English Literature reached its peak during the reign of Queen Elizabeth I, the Virgin Queen. This was the time when religious arguments were put aside through Puritanism, an agreement between the extremes of Catholicism and Protestantism. This gave way for the courts to take more notice in Literature.
It can be noted that even before the reign of Elizabeth I, performers of the arts already received recognition, even in the palace courts. History tells us that Henry VIII hired actors and playwrights for productions and presentations staged on the court. Outside the palace, literature was practically prominent among the nobilities. Even among the lower classes, a handful of plays were presented at inns and other public places. These though didn’t give much recognition to the literary, nor to Literature itself.
The people of those times of course cannot be considered apathetic towards Literary Arts, but far from that. It’s just that there was a need to pay attention to other things. It is well known that with Renaissance came along Reformation. This opened a lot of discussions, even fights. During the reign of Mary Tudor, wife of Philip II of Spain and a devout Catholic, there was public persecution of the Protestants. She is more popularly known as Bloody Mary, her having sentenced hundreds, even thousands, of the Non-Catholic faith killed. Subject matters like this gave the English less opportunity to pay heed to Literature.
Even when Literature is up on its feet, there were still arguments against play productions. For one thing, the Catholic Church didn’t really approve of these, and many of the English were Catholic. Plays started inside the church—the morality, mystery, and miracle plays which discussed Biblical principles—and when it got out, the themes became more and more secular and the language vulgar. All these may have stumbled the Literary Arts, but it was not put into silence. Its climax finally took place during the reign of Queen Elizabeth I.
Aside from settling religious and political issues that dug holes in Literature’s pathway, Elizabeth I also gave high favors to playwrights and actors. In films like “Elizabeth” and “Elizabeth, The Golden Age,” her palace is shown accommodating plays in its courts, along with dances and songs. In the film “Shakespeare in Love,” the actress playing her even said “They are played for me.” This tells us that the Literary Arts received might we say, full recognition among the English. From there on out prominent playwrights took into scene. In a turn of the sixteenth century, writers like Christopher Marlowe and William Shakespeare vigorously wrote to make their way into the lime light.
The 45 years reign of Queen Elizabeth I, the Golden Age of England, is also the Golden Age of English Literature. Now, it is called Elizabethan Literature, English Literature at its peak.
It can be noted that even before the reign of Elizabeth I, performers of the arts already received recognition, even in the palace courts. History tells us that Henry VIII hired actors and playwrights for productions and presentations staged on the court. Outside the palace, literature was practically prominent among the nobilities. Even among the lower classes, a handful of plays were presented at inns and other public places. These though didn’t give much recognition to the literary, nor to Literature itself.
The people of those times of course cannot be considered apathetic towards Literary Arts, but far from that. It’s just that there was a need to pay attention to other things. It is well known that with Renaissance came along Reformation. This opened a lot of discussions, even fights. During the reign of Mary Tudor, wife of Philip II of Spain and a devout Catholic, there was public persecution of the Protestants. She is more popularly known as Bloody Mary, her having sentenced hundreds, even thousands, of the Non-Catholic faith killed. Subject matters like this gave the English less opportunity to pay heed to Literature.
Even when Literature is up on its feet, there were still arguments against play productions. For one thing, the Catholic Church didn’t really approve of these, and many of the English were Catholic. Plays started inside the church—the morality, mystery, and miracle plays which discussed Biblical principles—and when it got out, the themes became more and more secular and the language vulgar. All these may have stumbled the Literary Arts, but it was not put into silence. Its climax finally took place during the reign of Queen Elizabeth I.
Aside from settling religious and political issues that dug holes in Literature’s pathway, Elizabeth I also gave high favors to playwrights and actors. In films like “Elizabeth” and “Elizabeth, The Golden Age,” her palace is shown accommodating plays in its courts, along with dances and songs. In the film “Shakespeare in Love,” the actress playing her even said “They are played for me.” This tells us that the Literary Arts received might we say, full recognition among the English. From there on out prominent playwrights took into scene. In a turn of the sixteenth century, writers like Christopher Marlowe and William Shakespeare vigorously wrote to make their way into the lime light.
The 45 years reign of Queen Elizabeth I, the Golden Age of England, is also the Golden Age of English Literature. Now, it is called Elizabethan Literature, English Literature at its peak.
Thursday, July 9, 2009
Little Miss Red
Red Riding Hood is of course a familiar character to almost every child. I have heard of her story when I was younger. I do not remember the details anymore but I know who the characters are, the roles they play, the setting and the plot that they take part of. Even more, the famous dialogue between the wolf and Red Riding Hood by Grandma's bed. After I read four versions of the faerie tale, more details resurfaced and ideas new to me came about. Especially among the contemporary versions, the change in the plot tickled a new interest in me on Red Riding Hood's story. I may not testify that I came to like Red Riding Hood a whole lot more, but I must say that I did appreciate the faerie story better than I did when I was younger. The meanings betwixt the lines discussed in Bettlelheim's essay showed a new perspective I never had toward faerie tales before. It showed that Little Red's story had deeper meaning—things that children wouldn't naturally think of after reading a story for entertainment. It may be necessary to remember that Little Red Riding Hood wasn't intended for children in the first place. I'd like to believe that when when the story was first summed up, there was already meaning interwoven in the story, not just when Freudian theories came about. For if it were not so, Sigmund Freud would have been having a hard time trying to explain Little Blue's Riding Hood. Perrault himself wrote morals at the end of his versions.
Personally, I like the Politically Correct Version best. It has so much in it and it totally broke off from the traditional setting. It makes one realize so much, starting from Red's bringing of fat-free, sodium-free food to Grandma, Wolf, and Red, living together in harmony. Red's line wherein she calls the woodchopper a Neanderthal tells so much. I guess it's about time we leave some tradition behind. After all, our era demands it and its better that we make our own mark in history. Although of course, gender roles are gender roles—a debate until earth passes.
I like Perrault's version better than Brothers Grimm's, then Roald Dahl's last. Perrault's version has more truth in it and is psychologically more realistic. If the point of writing “Little Red Riding Hood” is to show young women how premature sexual desire backfires, then it has to be shown that a girl would be 'eaten up' for life. What was lost cannot be restored by the coming of any other male figure anyway.
With Roald Dahl's, well... I must admit that I find it really funny. But of course the representation of the wolf in the poem is a character the same as Red Riding Hood's level. What I mean to say is, the two were practically both human and Red killed Wolf to get what she wanted. From the start, that was all shown, even until Red's appearance in “Three Little Pigs.” It was as if the story is telling the audience that it is necessary to kill to take possession of the heart's desires.
All in all, “Little Red Riding Hood” is more than just a tale. After all, no matter what the intention of an author, truths about life always come in the picture.
Personally, I like the Politically Correct Version best. It has so much in it and it totally broke off from the traditional setting. It makes one realize so much, starting from Red's bringing of fat-free, sodium-free food to Grandma, Wolf, and Red, living together in harmony. Red's line wherein she calls the woodchopper a Neanderthal tells so much. I guess it's about time we leave some tradition behind. After all, our era demands it and its better that we make our own mark in history. Although of course, gender roles are gender roles—a debate until earth passes.
I like Perrault's version better than Brothers Grimm's, then Roald Dahl's last. Perrault's version has more truth in it and is psychologically more realistic. If the point of writing “Little Red Riding Hood” is to show young women how premature sexual desire backfires, then it has to be shown that a girl would be 'eaten up' for life. What was lost cannot be restored by the coming of any other male figure anyway.
With Roald Dahl's, well... I must admit that I find it really funny. But of course the representation of the wolf in the poem is a character the same as Red Riding Hood's level. What I mean to say is, the two were practically both human and Red killed Wolf to get what she wanted. From the start, that was all shown, even until Red's appearance in “Three Little Pigs.” It was as if the story is telling the audience that it is necessary to kill to take possession of the heart's desires.
All in all, “Little Red Riding Hood” is more than just a tale. After all, no matter what the intention of an author, truths about life always come in the picture.
Sunday, January 18, 2009
... puZzLeS ...
i guess puzzles play a part of my life...
Last night i tried for the first time the hard difficulty in jigsaw here on gaia... i had fun, i had a chat with someone too...
anyways,
i was amazed i actually finished!!
for the record, i finished two, and three in the normal level
---i was once able to finish a 500-piece jigsaw puzzle i bought it from a booksale store
it was a garden, with lots and lots of flowers
my only help was the picture printed on the box
i had some trouble since the box was a bit worn out and some parts of the picture was covered with letterings
if i remember it correctly, i finished in 3 or 4 nights
since the puzzle didn't had a board, i decided to tape it down on a paper bag, to keep the puzzle pieces in place
i was crushed to find out my hardwork was all gone
i haven't seen my work again 'til this day
*sigh*
i'll do this more in gaia
i hope sooner or later i'd be trying the insane difficulty level too
it is insanity!!!
Last night i tried for the first time the hard difficulty in jigsaw here on gaia... i had fun, i had a chat with someone too...
anyways,
i was amazed i actually finished!!
for the record, i finished two, and three in the normal level
---i was once able to finish a 500-piece jigsaw puzzle i bought it from a booksale store
it was a garden, with lots and lots of flowers
my only help was the picture printed on the box
i had some trouble since the box was a bit worn out and some parts of the picture was covered with letterings
if i remember it correctly, i finished in 3 or 4 nights
since the puzzle didn't had a board, i decided to tape it down on a paper bag, to keep the puzzle pieces in place
i was crushed to find out my hardwork was all gone
i haven't seen my work again 'til this day
*sigh*
i'll do this more in gaia
i hope sooner or later i'd be trying the insane difficulty level too
it is insanity!!!
--wiNninG--
---this is the essay i submitted when my professor in English 1 asked us to write a reflection, about us being students of the University of the Philippines, during our first week
UP—the common term for University of the Philippines, a prestigious school for tertiary education and now the national university of the Republic of the Philippines. I may not exactly know what kind of privilege this identification gives but what I can be sure of is that this school has to be the best in many terms.
I remember the day I first became acquainted with the idea that I passed the UPCAT—to be honest, I wasn’t so sure I’d pass. My mom received a call from a friend telling her she saw my name on the list of those who passed. I do not know whether it was because it didn’t sink in to me or because it was just another achievement for me but I didn’t get excited or anything. Probably because I’m not just that kind of person who’s into accomplishments and all, like when we won first place in the Carol Fest or made it through the eliminations for Accelerate Idol (a group activity we had in YSTBS). Honestly speaking UP is just another college for me which happens to be on the competitive edge. That’s the very reason why I chose to enroll here. Thinking of the thousands who didn’t make it through the UPCAT and us who compose the small percentage of examinees, I don’t really see myself as someone special or someone so smart, as a matter of fact when I knew I made it to UP, I thought everyone else in my school did—which to my disappointment was not so. I am very thankful for the talents given to me.
Now that I am here, there’s one thing I could definitely look up to. I know that when I graduate (I believe that I will become an alumnus of the University of the Philippines) I will set out for the world ready for whatever, whenever. Knowing that God will help me, I just have to do my very best in everything and of course, think about what I’m doing first.
UP—the common term for University of the Philippines, a prestigious school for tertiary education and now the national university of the Republic of the Philippines. I may not exactly know what kind of privilege this identification gives but what I can be sure of is that this school has to be the best in many terms.
I remember the day I first became acquainted with the idea that I passed the UPCAT—to be honest, I wasn’t so sure I’d pass. My mom received a call from a friend telling her she saw my name on the list of those who passed. I do not know whether it was because it didn’t sink in to me or because it was just another achievement for me but I didn’t get excited or anything. Probably because I’m not just that kind of person who’s into accomplishments and all, like when we won first place in the Carol Fest or made it through the eliminations for Accelerate Idol (a group activity we had in YSTBS). Honestly speaking UP is just another college for me which happens to be on the competitive edge. That’s the very reason why I chose to enroll here. Thinking of the thousands who didn’t make it through the UPCAT and us who compose the small percentage of examinees, I don’t really see myself as someone special or someone so smart, as a matter of fact when I knew I made it to UP, I thought everyone else in my school did—which to my disappointment was not so. I am very thankful for the talents given to me.
Now that I am here, there’s one thing I could definitely look up to. I know that when I graduate (I believe that I will become an alumnus of the University of the Philippines) I will set out for the world ready for whatever, whenever. Knowing that God will help me, I just have to do my very best in everything and of course, think about what I’m doing first.
aCceLeraTE
Last summer, I made the most of my time by participating in church activities. I registered for “e=cm2 (Established: Creative Ministry) Summer Dance & Hypocrites Workshop 2008”, “Step Up! Youth & Teens Levels” and “Accelerate YSTBS 2008 (Youth Short Term Bible School).” There were more activities like I the Teens’ Sport Fest and Teens’ Camp of which I wasn’t able to take part.
The one I enjoyed most was the YSTBS, held in Cathedral of Praise- Main Campus. I got to spend 2 weeks learning about God, His word, and His people. We had three subjects: Connect System, Pastoral Care & Discipleship, and Biblical Communication. I had lots of fun! We had games and activities in between lessons. I gained new friends and most important of all, I learned a lot.
On the first day, I thought the course would start at 8a.m. It was already past 8 o’clock when I got there. To my surprise, there were only a handful of students inside the River Room. (The River Room is a smaller area compared to the main auditorium. This is where gatherings are held when only a small part of the congregation is expected to attend.) We were told that chapel starts t 9. I was so relieved I didn’t have to wake up so early everyday.
I got my I.D. after registration. A large button pin actually, so much for an identification card. It was black with a black race car on its background. My first name, Karizza, was written in blue ink in the grayer area of the pin. I prefer being called Anika but since I decided not to ask them to change it anymore (that could give them some trouble, trying to erase the ink), my group mates call me Karizza until now. A purple folded paper was attached on the back of my pin. We were asked not to open the papers taped on our pins ‘til later.
When everyone had their “IDs,” the interns asked us to find the persons who got papers of the same color. Later that day, our group received our name: Mufflers. At first I thought our name referred to the kind of muffler you put on your ears. The class soon found out that our assigned group names were actually car parts. Others were named Radiator, Alternator, Spark Plugs, Fog Light, Piston, Crank Shaft, Carburetor, Clutch Disk, and Accelerator. I somehow felt lucky our name didn’t sound much of a car. I also think that it’s one of the best names.
That day we used the NLT and NIV to search for different words that pertain to pastors. Pastor Joey taught about different small group methods after lunch. We had presentation of the groups’ chants next. Ours went like: “Chug chug. Chug chug. Aaah… Muffler!” As far as I can remember, ours was the simplest. We had very simple movements too. We hold fists then punch them downwards in the air in the “Chug-chug” part, first the boys then the girls. We then move our arms in a circular motion at shoulder level, and then we chant “Muffler!”
On Tuesday, my leader asked me to play Guesstures, a game similar to charades. It was quite embarrassing. It was my first time to play the game and I didn’t do well. In the game, the actor picks out two blue and two red cards. A card has two words/thoughts, one typed on each end. I just put in the cards in the box which pulls the card in as time runs out. I didn’t choose the words I’ll play anymore. I didn’t do well in the charades part either. My team got one correct but I wasn’t able to pull the card out. No point. By the end of the week, Muffler still had zero in Guesstures. We had another activity at the end of that day. Food Relay is nothing new, I know, but we had fun. There were 5 food items, namely: ampalaya, butong pakwan, okra, vinegar, and banana. I guess I didn’t listen very well to the instructions. I thought every player was going to have one food item. Since I heard the ‘instructor’ say that the banana would be the last to eat, I fell in the last place of the line. Teams were merged so that we only had 5 groups when the game started. Our team was merged with Group Piston. Our first player took a lot of time. He kind of slowed the team down. Other groups were already having their second player and by the time he finished some had already sent their third player. I did well in this activity. I had no problem with bitter gourd, but I did with okra. What I did was this: I bit the okra to capsule-sized pieces then swallowed them with the help of water. I did the same with the ampalaya, I saved time by not chewing anymore. I did pretty well with the watermelon seeds too. Someone even quoted me as an expert. I chewed the seeds with the banana to save even more time. We didn’t win though. That was my Tuesday.
Wednesday: we made it through Accelerate Idol. Yey!
Yes, Accelerate Idol is based on American Idol. The difference is that we get to perform anything, --we can dance, sing, act, or all three-- we don’t necessarily have to belt out tunes. We had a bit of a trouble deciding what to do that day. We finally decided to dance “Happy Day” using the choreography of the Davidic Dancers. None of the groups was eliminated that day. The following day we had another dance number and still made it. A group was eliminated that afternoon. I was quite nervous during elimination. One of the two groups left standing, waiting for their name to be called, was Muffler. When the verdict was finally given, my leader literally leaped in excitement.
Groupings won’t be complete without the banners. Everyone was given sheets of art paper and a piece of white cloth. Friday, our team ended up with a very colorful banner. We made use of markers, glitters, double-adhesive tape, crayons, and art paper. We had a drawing of a muffler on the far left, coated with silver glitters. Coming out of it was smoke which we colored with gray and black. On top of the smoke were letterings (art paper cut-outs) spelling out “Muffler.” We filled up the empty spaces with torn-up pieces of art paper in assorted colors.
We had a lot more fun activities later. We also had fun learning and making our way through the quizzes. Speaking of which, I did well in the quizzes I even got more than the perfect score in some, thanks to bonus questions. I developed a better attitude during praise and worship and learned a lot about taking care of God’s flock. I also learned new songs and choreography of some of the dances used during the services. Best thing I gained above all was the deeper relationship with God I had.
The one I enjoyed most was the YSTBS, held in Cathedral of Praise- Main Campus. I got to spend 2 weeks learning about God, His word, and His people. We had three subjects: Connect System, Pastoral Care & Discipleship, and Biblical Communication. I had lots of fun! We had games and activities in between lessons. I gained new friends and most important of all, I learned a lot.
On the first day, I thought the course would start at 8a.m. It was already past 8 o’clock when I got there. To my surprise, there were only a handful of students inside the River Room. (The River Room is a smaller area compared to the main auditorium. This is where gatherings are held when only a small part of the congregation is expected to attend.) We were told that chapel starts t 9. I was so relieved I didn’t have to wake up so early everyday.
I got my I.D. after registration. A large button pin actually, so much for an identification card. It was black with a black race car on its background. My first name, Karizza, was written in blue ink in the grayer area of the pin. I prefer being called Anika but since I decided not to ask them to change it anymore (that could give them some trouble, trying to erase the ink), my group mates call me Karizza until now. A purple folded paper was attached on the back of my pin. We were asked not to open the papers taped on our pins ‘til later.
When everyone had their “IDs,” the interns asked us to find the persons who got papers of the same color. Later that day, our group received our name: Mufflers. At first I thought our name referred to the kind of muffler you put on your ears. The class soon found out that our assigned group names were actually car parts. Others were named Radiator, Alternator, Spark Plugs, Fog Light, Piston, Crank Shaft, Carburetor, Clutch Disk, and Accelerator. I somehow felt lucky our name didn’t sound much of a car. I also think that it’s one of the best names.
That day we used the NLT and NIV to search for different words that pertain to pastors. Pastor Joey taught about different small group methods after lunch. We had presentation of the groups’ chants next. Ours went like: “Chug chug. Chug chug. Aaah… Muffler!” As far as I can remember, ours was the simplest. We had very simple movements too. We hold fists then punch them downwards in the air in the “Chug-chug” part, first the boys then the girls. We then move our arms in a circular motion at shoulder level, and then we chant “Muffler!”
On Tuesday, my leader asked me to play Guesstures, a game similar to charades. It was quite embarrassing. It was my first time to play the game and I didn’t do well. In the game, the actor picks out two blue and two red cards. A card has two words/thoughts, one typed on each end. I just put in the cards in the box which pulls the card in as time runs out. I didn’t choose the words I’ll play anymore. I didn’t do well in the charades part either. My team got one correct but I wasn’t able to pull the card out. No point. By the end of the week, Muffler still had zero in Guesstures. We had another activity at the end of that day. Food Relay is nothing new, I know, but we had fun. There were 5 food items, namely: ampalaya, butong pakwan, okra, vinegar, and banana. I guess I didn’t listen very well to the instructions. I thought every player was going to have one food item. Since I heard the ‘instructor’ say that the banana would be the last to eat, I fell in the last place of the line. Teams were merged so that we only had 5 groups when the game started. Our team was merged with Group Piston. Our first player took a lot of time. He kind of slowed the team down. Other groups were already having their second player and by the time he finished some had already sent their third player. I did well in this activity. I had no problem with bitter gourd, but I did with okra. What I did was this: I bit the okra to capsule-sized pieces then swallowed them with the help of water. I did the same with the ampalaya, I saved time by not chewing anymore. I did pretty well with the watermelon seeds too. Someone even quoted me as an expert. I chewed the seeds with the banana to save even more time. We didn’t win though. That was my Tuesday.
Wednesday: we made it through Accelerate Idol. Yey!
Yes, Accelerate Idol is based on American Idol. The difference is that we get to perform anything, --we can dance, sing, act, or all three-- we don’t necessarily have to belt out tunes. We had a bit of a trouble deciding what to do that day. We finally decided to dance “Happy Day” using the choreography of the Davidic Dancers. None of the groups was eliminated that day. The following day we had another dance number and still made it. A group was eliminated that afternoon. I was quite nervous during elimination. One of the two groups left standing, waiting for their name to be called, was Muffler. When the verdict was finally given, my leader literally leaped in excitement.
Groupings won’t be complete without the banners. Everyone was given sheets of art paper and a piece of white cloth. Friday, our team ended up with a very colorful banner. We made use of markers, glitters, double-adhesive tape, crayons, and art paper. We had a drawing of a muffler on the far left, coated with silver glitters. Coming out of it was smoke which we colored with gray and black. On top of the smoke were letterings (art paper cut-outs) spelling out “Muffler.” We filled up the empty spaces with torn-up pieces of art paper in assorted colors.
We had a lot more fun activities later. We also had fun learning and making our way through the quizzes. Speaking of which, I did well in the quizzes I even got more than the perfect score in some, thanks to bonus questions. I developed a better attitude during praise and worship and learned a lot about taking care of God’s flock. I also learned new songs and choreography of some of the dances used during the services. Best thing I gained above all was the deeper relationship with God I had.
sembreak's comin' up
sembreak is coming up and i have lots to do...
papers, exams, reports, finals oh... so tiring
--- i feel sorry for myself for not giving my best...
-- angry at myself for not doing well
- completely disappointed and stressed icon_gonk.gif
last night i cried
i cried hard because I felt neglected, which i was...
love is what i need
..
everything is dark and weary yet i don't lose hope
I'm so afraid about the future
I'm not sure if I'm going to make it
I don't know if I'll be able to enroll nest semester
I can't tell if my dad will allow me join the ministry
There's one thing I can be sure of...
--> GOD
I'm sure He'll never leave me
papers, exams, reports, finals oh... so tiring
--- i feel sorry for myself for not giving my best...
-- angry at myself for not doing well
- completely disappointed and stressed icon_gonk.gif
last night i cried
i cried hard because I felt neglected, which i was...
love is what i need
..
everything is dark and weary yet i don't lose hope
I'm so afraid about the future
I'm not sure if I'm going to make it
I don't know if I'll be able to enroll nest semester
I can't tell if my dad will allow me join the ministry
There's one thing I can be sure of...
--> GOD
I'm sure He'll never leave me
On a Thread Line
What is friendship?
That I can't tell
Why do we have friends?
That I can't explain
Who is a friend?
That I do not know
Friendship is fragile
Friendships are vain
Friends we hang out with
Friends we never can leave
Is it all worth the risk
To put your faith on someone else?
In all time we never can fathom
Time won't tell, time won't tell
In all of friendship we can be part of
Time won't tell, Time won't tell
That I can't tell
Why do we have friends?
That I can't explain
Who is a friend?
That I do not know
Friendship is fragile
Friendships are vain
Friends we hang out with
Friends we never can leave
Is it all worth the risk
To put your faith on someone else?
In all time we never can fathom
Time won't tell, time won't tell
In all of friendship we can be part of
Time won't tell, Time won't tell
Sunday, January 11, 2009
Personality Test
E = 1 I = 21 I - 31
S = 4 N = 18 N – 29
T = 12 F = 9 T – 5
J = 19 P = 10 J - 17
INTJ
Succeed by perseverance, originality and desire to do whatever is needed or wanted. Put their best efforts into their work. Quietly forceful, conscientious, concerned for others. Respected for their firm principles. Likely to be honored and followed for their clear conviction as to how best to serve the common good.
I totally agree with the outcome of the results. I usually do my best to meet what is needed. I try to stay original at all times and I put my best efforts most of the time. I believe I am painstaking and meticulous, although I still care for others. I am forceful, but not very quietly…I can be a bit outspoken sometimes (or probably only when necessary). I’ve noticed how some people admire me for my firm principles. I stand up for what I believe in yet keeps an open-mind but when it comes to choosing between right and wrong, I risk things to put up with what I know is right. I always tell myself and others: “I’d rather fail than cheat.”
(We had this I.Q. and Personality exam in school. This exam is the "formal" type of exam used by psychologists so I can say that the results are reliable.)
S = 4 N = 18 N – 29
T = 12 F = 9 T – 5
J = 19 P = 10 J - 17
INTJ
Succeed by perseverance, originality and desire to do whatever is needed or wanted. Put their best efforts into their work. Quietly forceful, conscientious, concerned for others. Respected for their firm principles. Likely to be honored and followed for their clear conviction as to how best to serve the common good.
I totally agree with the outcome of the results. I usually do my best to meet what is needed. I try to stay original at all times and I put my best efforts most of the time. I believe I am painstaking and meticulous, although I still care for others. I am forceful, but not very quietly…I can be a bit outspoken sometimes (or probably only when necessary). I’ve noticed how some people admire me for my firm principles. I stand up for what I believe in yet keeps an open-mind but when it comes to choosing between right and wrong, I risk things to put up with what I know is right. I always tell myself and others: “I’d rather fail than cheat.”
(We had this I.Q. and Personality exam in school. This exam is the "formal" type of exam used by psychologists so I can say that the results are reliable.)
Saturday, January 10, 2009
Psycho geometry
Circle
Circles are ideal teachers. They are flexible people, able to mingle, and finds it easy to be with others. Sometimes makes gossips in order to be noticed.
Before I give my response to my psycho geometry result, I'd like to tell why I chose circle. I picked out the shape circle among the five given because it had no sides. I once heard something from a movie why the circle is ideal. The character said that the circle is the best shape not only because it's endless but also because it doesn't have any corners, leaving no room for some sort of discord. Another reason perhaps is because circles resemble wheels--my point here is that circles for me mean moving on.
The interpretation as a whole I think is applicable to me. I don't really know which shape suits me best as I have never read about the other shapes yet. I agree mostly to what the interpretation says.
The first sentence says that circles are the best teachers. I felt happy about that. After all, I do want to be an educator. I may not be able to justify myself but I believe I am able to teach given the knowledge needed.
The next one says that I can, or probably am, a flexible person. I may disagree at that at some point given that I am a shy person. Although I must admit that I make good friends with people. I'm not just flexible like how I was interpreted by the psycho geometry. I feel uneasy with some types of people. I guess that tells how the interpretation contradicts my personality.
At the last sentence, it tells how circles become not ideal. I may agree to this at some point but I am still hurt with it. I do make something at times for people to notice me but I never gossip. I don't like gossip and if I gossip for myself, I'll end up hating myself.
All of the things I've written above make sense to me. I can't really tell if other people will agree or disagree but I guess what really matters is how I view myself. Although there's one thing, do I really know myself?
Circles are ideal teachers. They are flexible people, able to mingle, and finds it easy to be with others. Sometimes makes gossips in order to be noticed.
Before I give my response to my psycho geometry result, I'd like to tell why I chose circle. I picked out the shape circle among the five given because it had no sides. I once heard something from a movie why the circle is ideal. The character said that the circle is the best shape not only because it's endless but also because it doesn't have any corners, leaving no room for some sort of discord. Another reason perhaps is because circles resemble wheels--my point here is that circles for me mean moving on.
The interpretation as a whole I think is applicable to me. I don't really know which shape suits me best as I have never read about the other shapes yet. I agree mostly to what the interpretation says.
The first sentence says that circles are the best teachers. I felt happy about that. After all, I do want to be an educator. I may not be able to justify myself but I believe I am able to teach given the knowledge needed.
The next one says that I can, or probably am, a flexible person. I may disagree at that at some point given that I am a shy person. Although I must admit that I make good friends with people. I'm not just flexible like how I was interpreted by the psycho geometry. I feel uneasy with some types of people. I guess that tells how the interpretation contradicts my personality.
At the last sentence, it tells how circles become not ideal. I may agree to this at some point but I am still hurt with it. I do make something at times for people to notice me but I never gossip. I don't like gossip and if I gossip for myself, I'll end up hating myself.
All of the things I've written above make sense to me. I can't really tell if other people will agree or disagree but I guess what really matters is how I view myself. Although there's one thing, do I really know myself?
Friday, January 9, 2009
Viewing History a Different Way
Bulubunduking Buhay
Ang dokyumentaryong “Bulubunduking Buhay” ay ukol sa rice terraces na likha ng mga katutubong Ifugao sa Mountain Province. Ipinakita sa dokyumentaryo ang kasaysayan, proseso, at mga pamahiin patungkol sa Banawe Rice Terraces.
Ang bulubunduking buhay na tinutukoy sa dokyumentaryo ay binubuo ng mga payo na inukit ng mga sinaunang katutubo. Ang likhang kamay na ito sa Cordillera (na naging tahanan ng mga katutubo pagdating ng mga Espanyol) ay tinatayang mas mahaba pa sa Great Wall of China.
Ang mga buwan ng Agosto hanggang Nobyembre ay panahon ng paglilinis at pagbubungkal para sa mga kababaihang Ifugao. Dahil sa natural ang proseso, madalas na suliranin ng mga kababaihan ang mga uod at kuhol. Ang tag-araw naman ay panahon para maghanapbuhay ang kalalakihan sa nayon (na dati rati’y panahon ng gerang pang-tribo). Ilan sa trabahong ginagampanan nila ay ang pag-kakarpintero, pag-igib, at paghatid ng mga kalakal. Paglililo, paglalala, at paghahabi naman ang mga trabahong ginagampanan ng mga kababaihan habang naghihintay ng ani.
Ang tag-araw ay panahon rin ng pagdiriwang para sa mga katutubong Ifugao. Ito rin ang panahon ng pagtitipon ng mga magkakamag-anak at magkakaibigan. Kadalasa’y panahon rin ang tag-araw ng kasalan.
Sa panahon ng ani, pinapadala ang mga kababaihan sa palayan upang mamitas ng palay. Isa sa mga nakagawian ng mga kababaihang Ifugao ay ang pag-awit ng mga hudhod (romantikong kwento ng pag-ibig at digmaan) habang nag-aani ng palay. (Ayon sa alamat, isang beses pagdating ng panahon ng pag-aani, lumabas ang isang Umbakhayo,isang lalaking Ifugao, sa payo na may dalang sibat. Siya ay nagsayaw at nagturo ng mga hudhod sa mga nag-aani. Sa kanyang paglisan, ay namatay kanyang mga tinuruan. Isang batang babae, na hindi nakakita kay Umbakhayo, ang nakaligtas upang ipamahagi ang mga awitin.) Sa araw, habang nag-aani ang mga kababaihan, naghahanda naman ng mga putahe ang kalalakihan sa nayon. Ang mga Mumbaki (tagatawag ng mga espiritu) naman samantala ay nagsasagawa ng mga baki gamit ang manok o baboy. Ilan pa sa mga ginagawa ng isang Mumbaki ay ang pagdadasal sa naaning palay, sa mga bulol (imahen), at sa mga payo pagsapit ng hapon.
Ilan pa sa tatak ng kulturang Ifugao ay ang mga gangha at ang lipong. Ang gangha ay isang instrumentong musical na maihahambing sa gong, na ginagamit sa halos lahat ng ritwal na Ifugao. Ang lipong naman, sa kabilang dako, ay poste na ginagamit pampataas ng mga kubo upang hindi ito maakyat ng mga peste tulad ng daga.
More Hispanic Than We Admit
“More Hispanic Than We Admit” is a short video that shows how we Filipinos could not exist as we are if it wasn’t for the Spanish influence brought about by the colonization. The bottom line question is: What defines a Filipino? 200-300 years before Christianity came to the Philippine Islands, Islam (and pagan worship) was the most practiced religion. Catholicism basically changed many of our Pre-Filipino traditions. During the rule of the Spaniards, the church was the center of the community. Unlike before, where small barangays (comparable to tribes) live on their own, each having a different culture and government. One remarkable datu, the political and legislative leader of a baragay, would be Raja Sulayman. He is acclaimed to rule the first political government in Manila. And yet another of course is Lapu-lapu who led the battle against Ferdinand Magellan’s crew.
Although the Filipino people still exercise Hispanic traditions, we could still say that it’s our own. We have adopted traditions which, technically, have been altered. The images (statues and such) kept inside the churches for example; it has been Pre-Filipino tradition to keep the datu’s coffin in the innermost part of the house in the belief that the datu will protect the home. There are still lots of traditions which aren’t practiced in other former Spanish colonies.
That there, concludes that we are more Hispanic that we admit.
Fabian de la Rosa and His Times
Fabian de la Rosa is a realist, artist, and fencer, born on May 5, 1896 in Paco, Manila. He was enrolled in an art school in his youth and taught in his brother’s fencing school in Legarda, Manila. He acquired a scholarship for Madrid Art Academy, and attained a gold medal in the St. Louis’ World Fair in Missouri. In the years 1908-1910, he studied art as a scholar of Dr. Ariston Bautista Lin. De la Rosa became an instructor of decorative arts when he came back to the Philippines in 1910. He also became the first dean of the College of Fine arts in U.P. Diliman.
Fabian de la Rosa is an artist of pencil, charcoal and oil. Some of his most famous paintings are La Perla de Lucban (1891), and Planting Rice in 1921. He also painted the death of General Lawton, as was requested, during the coming of the Americans.
Reflection:
Bulubunduking Buhay
Nakatutuwang isipin na kahit papaano ay mayroon pa rin tayong orihinal na kulturang nanatili. Ang mga payo na likha ng mga Ifugao ay isa sa mga patunay na hindi tayo ang mga Pilipinong mangmang na dinatnan ng mga Espanyol at mga Amerikano. Isa lamang ang Banaue Rice terraces sa maraming maipagmamalaki sa ating bansa. Ang pagkakaisa ng mga katutubo ay isang bagay na nakakapagpataba ng puso. Nagpapakita ito ng pagkakaisa at pakikisama sa kapwa. Isa itong leksyon para sa akin… Ang pagkakaroon ng malasakit sa kapwa ay nagdudulot ng kabutihan.
More Hispanic Than we Admit
Are we really more Hispanic than we admit? Perhaps we, Filipinos, are. Although I can’t justify myself as Hispanic—I belonging to a new era, a modern era that doesn’t practice traditions—I might as well admit that the Philippines as a nation truly is Hispanic. The colonization this country has been through has affected how we live, and how we view life. The sad thing we must be aware of too is that we weren’t able to preserve any of our own culture. Aside from that, everything else can be viewed as a good thing. Christianity, I must agree, is a better religion than pagan worship. Architecture surely has improved. We don’t live in tree houses, or houses made of trees, anymore. Although it sounds fun, I still think that our houses are absolutely way better these days. I guess being Hispanic isn’t much of a bad thing. The thing is, is being Hispanic the thing that defines a Filipino?
Fabian de la Rosa and His Times
The rise of Fabian de la Rosa as an artist during his times is truly spectacular. To think that he went through the death of Rizal, the Spanish Armada, and the Treaty of Paris, his success as an artist is truly remarkable. These events could symbolize defeat but no, he succeeded anyway. But of course, his belonging to an upper class family has played a big part. He has better opportunities compared to a common Filipino. Then again, his talent in painting is something a Filipino can be proud of.
Ang dokyumentaryong “Bulubunduking Buhay” ay ukol sa rice terraces na likha ng mga katutubong Ifugao sa Mountain Province. Ipinakita sa dokyumentaryo ang kasaysayan, proseso, at mga pamahiin patungkol sa Banawe Rice Terraces.
Ang bulubunduking buhay na tinutukoy sa dokyumentaryo ay binubuo ng mga payo na inukit ng mga sinaunang katutubo. Ang likhang kamay na ito sa Cordillera (na naging tahanan ng mga katutubo pagdating ng mga Espanyol) ay tinatayang mas mahaba pa sa Great Wall of China.
Ang mga buwan ng Agosto hanggang Nobyembre ay panahon ng paglilinis at pagbubungkal para sa mga kababaihang Ifugao. Dahil sa natural ang proseso, madalas na suliranin ng mga kababaihan ang mga uod at kuhol. Ang tag-araw naman ay panahon para maghanapbuhay ang kalalakihan sa nayon (na dati rati’y panahon ng gerang pang-tribo). Ilan sa trabahong ginagampanan nila ay ang pag-kakarpintero, pag-igib, at paghatid ng mga kalakal. Paglililo, paglalala, at paghahabi naman ang mga trabahong ginagampanan ng mga kababaihan habang naghihintay ng ani.
Ang tag-araw ay panahon rin ng pagdiriwang para sa mga katutubong Ifugao. Ito rin ang panahon ng pagtitipon ng mga magkakamag-anak at magkakaibigan. Kadalasa’y panahon rin ang tag-araw ng kasalan.
Sa panahon ng ani, pinapadala ang mga kababaihan sa palayan upang mamitas ng palay. Isa sa mga nakagawian ng mga kababaihang Ifugao ay ang pag-awit ng mga hudhod (romantikong kwento ng pag-ibig at digmaan) habang nag-aani ng palay. (Ayon sa alamat, isang beses pagdating ng panahon ng pag-aani, lumabas ang isang Umbakhayo,isang lalaking Ifugao, sa payo na may dalang sibat. Siya ay nagsayaw at nagturo ng mga hudhod sa mga nag-aani. Sa kanyang paglisan, ay namatay kanyang mga tinuruan. Isang batang babae, na hindi nakakita kay Umbakhayo, ang nakaligtas upang ipamahagi ang mga awitin.) Sa araw, habang nag-aani ang mga kababaihan, naghahanda naman ng mga putahe ang kalalakihan sa nayon. Ang mga Mumbaki (tagatawag ng mga espiritu) naman samantala ay nagsasagawa ng mga baki gamit ang manok o baboy. Ilan pa sa mga ginagawa ng isang Mumbaki ay ang pagdadasal sa naaning palay, sa mga bulol (imahen), at sa mga payo pagsapit ng hapon.
Ilan pa sa tatak ng kulturang Ifugao ay ang mga gangha at ang lipong. Ang gangha ay isang instrumentong musical na maihahambing sa gong, na ginagamit sa halos lahat ng ritwal na Ifugao. Ang lipong naman, sa kabilang dako, ay poste na ginagamit pampataas ng mga kubo upang hindi ito maakyat ng mga peste tulad ng daga.
More Hispanic Than We Admit
“More Hispanic Than We Admit” is a short video that shows how we Filipinos could not exist as we are if it wasn’t for the Spanish influence brought about by the colonization. The bottom line question is: What defines a Filipino? 200-300 years before Christianity came to the Philippine Islands, Islam (and pagan worship) was the most practiced religion. Catholicism basically changed many of our Pre-Filipino traditions. During the rule of the Spaniards, the church was the center of the community. Unlike before, where small barangays (comparable to tribes) live on their own, each having a different culture and government. One remarkable datu, the political and legislative leader of a baragay, would be Raja Sulayman. He is acclaimed to rule the first political government in Manila. And yet another of course is Lapu-lapu who led the battle against Ferdinand Magellan’s crew.
Although the Filipino people still exercise Hispanic traditions, we could still say that it’s our own. We have adopted traditions which, technically, have been altered. The images (statues and such) kept inside the churches for example; it has been Pre-Filipino tradition to keep the datu’s coffin in the innermost part of the house in the belief that the datu will protect the home. There are still lots of traditions which aren’t practiced in other former Spanish colonies.
That there, concludes that we are more Hispanic that we admit.
Fabian de la Rosa and His Times
Fabian de la Rosa is a realist, artist, and fencer, born on May 5, 1896 in Paco, Manila. He was enrolled in an art school in his youth and taught in his brother’s fencing school in Legarda, Manila. He acquired a scholarship for Madrid Art Academy, and attained a gold medal in the St. Louis’ World Fair in Missouri. In the years 1908-1910, he studied art as a scholar of Dr. Ariston Bautista Lin. De la Rosa became an instructor of decorative arts when he came back to the Philippines in 1910. He also became the first dean of the College of Fine arts in U.P. Diliman.
Fabian de la Rosa is an artist of pencil, charcoal and oil. Some of his most famous paintings are La Perla de Lucban (1891), and Planting Rice in 1921. He also painted the death of General Lawton, as was requested, during the coming of the Americans.
Reflection:
Bulubunduking Buhay
Nakatutuwang isipin na kahit papaano ay mayroon pa rin tayong orihinal na kulturang nanatili. Ang mga payo na likha ng mga Ifugao ay isa sa mga patunay na hindi tayo ang mga Pilipinong mangmang na dinatnan ng mga Espanyol at mga Amerikano. Isa lamang ang Banaue Rice terraces sa maraming maipagmamalaki sa ating bansa. Ang pagkakaisa ng mga katutubo ay isang bagay na nakakapagpataba ng puso. Nagpapakita ito ng pagkakaisa at pakikisama sa kapwa. Isa itong leksyon para sa akin… Ang pagkakaroon ng malasakit sa kapwa ay nagdudulot ng kabutihan.
More Hispanic Than we Admit
Are we really more Hispanic than we admit? Perhaps we, Filipinos, are. Although I can’t justify myself as Hispanic—I belonging to a new era, a modern era that doesn’t practice traditions—I might as well admit that the Philippines as a nation truly is Hispanic. The colonization this country has been through has affected how we live, and how we view life. The sad thing we must be aware of too is that we weren’t able to preserve any of our own culture. Aside from that, everything else can be viewed as a good thing. Christianity, I must agree, is a better religion than pagan worship. Architecture surely has improved. We don’t live in tree houses, or houses made of trees, anymore. Although it sounds fun, I still think that our houses are absolutely way better these days. I guess being Hispanic isn’t much of a bad thing. The thing is, is being Hispanic the thing that defines a Filipino?
Fabian de la Rosa and His Times
The rise of Fabian de la Rosa as an artist during his times is truly spectacular. To think that he went through the death of Rizal, the Spanish Armada, and the Treaty of Paris, his success as an artist is truly remarkable. These events could symbolize defeat but no, he succeeded anyway. But of course, his belonging to an upper class family has played a big part. He has better opportunities compared to a common Filipino. Then again, his talent in painting is something a Filipino can be proud of.
Thursday, January 8, 2009
Transit Café
Noong nakaraang Miyerkules, ika-10 ng Setyembre, ay nagkaroon ako ng oportunidad na makapanuod ng isang Iranian film. Bagamat hindi na ito bago sa aking pandinig, medyo nanibago pa rin ako sa aking napanuod. Sa hayskul ay akin nang napag-aralan ang mga Iranian films. Sa aking pagkakaalam, ukol sa sibil at gera ang ganitong mga palabas, hindi pala lahat.
Ang Transit Café ay tungkol sa isang biyuda, si Reyhan, na nagnais tumayo sa kanyang sariling paa. Isinantabi niya ang tradisyong Persyano at binuhay ang sariling pamilya. Dapat sana’y aakuin ng kapatid ng kanyang namatay na asawang si Ismael ang responsibilidad ngunit tinanggihan niya ang pagpapakasal dito.
Isa pa sa mga bagay na ipinagsawalang bahala ni Reyhan ay ang pagbubukas ng naiwang restawran ng kanyang lumipas na na asawa. Hindi naaangkop para sa isang babae ang magtrabaho sa labas ng bahay at lalo na ang magpatakbo ng isang negosyo. Sa paglipas ng panahon, ipinasara ni Nasser, kapatid ni Ismael, ang restawran ni Reyhan. Sa katapusan ng pelikula’y ipinakita si Reyhan na naghahanap ng trabaho sa ibang lugar.
Ang iba pang karakter na gumanap sa buhay ni Reyhan ay ang kanyang dalawang anak, na pilit sinusuyo ni Nasser, at ang kanyang kapatid na lalaki na tumulong sa kanya sa restawran. Isa pa sa mga natatanging karakter ay ang Griyegong si Zakario na nagkaroon ng pagtingin kay Reyhan at napalapit sa dalawa nitong anak. Ang husay sa pagluluto ni Reyhan ang nagsimula ng lahat. Sa katapusan ay tinanggihan ni Reyhan ang alok nitong magpakasal sa kanya. Ang huli ay si Evrieta, isang Rusyano na napadpad sa Iran sa paghahanap niya ng katahimikan mula sa mga nagaganap na gyerahan.
Mula sa napanuod kong pelikula ay marami akong natutuhan patungkol sa tradisyon at kultura ng Iran. Ang pinakamalaking impact ng palabas na ito sa akin ay ang feminist empowerment. Sabihin man nating mali talaga ang ginawa ni Reyhan, isa pa rin itong eye-opener para sa lahat patungkol sa diskriminasyon sa kababaihan. May isa lang siguro akong hindi nagustuhan sa kanyang mga ginawa, pinabayaan niya na lang ang dalagang Rusyano sa sarili nito pagkatapos niyang ikulong ng matagal. Kung tutuusin ay wala pang malay si Evrieta sa Iran, ang natutuhan niya lamang ay ang pagluluto at ilan pang mga gawaing bahay. Para sa akin, mas naging tama siguro ang ginawa ni Reyhan kung siniguro niya ang patutunguhan ng dalaga.
Ukol naman kay Nasser, marami rin siyang ginawang hindi maganda sa paningin. Isa dito ay ang pagputol niya ng hinahabi ni Sara, panganay na anak ni Reyhan, sa isang pagawaan. Malaki ang mensahe na ipinarating nito sa bata, ngunit hindi ito yung mensaheng nais niyang iparating. Kung tutuusin ay may dahilan naman si Nasser para sa lahat ng kanyang mga aksyon. Hindi naman talaga pangit ang nais niyang idulot sa pamilya ni Reyhan. Sa katunayan pa nga, sa simula ay marami pa siyang dinadalang regalo para kina Reyhan. Nagbago na lamang ang lahat ng maiparating na ni Reyhan sa kanya na wala nga siyang balak magpakasal kay Nasser.
Sa kabuuan, maganda ang tema ng pelikula. Hindi ako masyadong nagandahan, at mababa rin ang kalidad kung technicalities ang pag-uusapan. Ang Transit Café sa aking palagay, ay isang panaginip na naghihintay maganap sa katotohanan. Isa itong pangarap, lalo na ng mga kababaihan, na nagnanais ilabas ang talento at independence na mayroon ang bawat babae.
Ang Transit Café ay tungkol sa isang biyuda, si Reyhan, na nagnais tumayo sa kanyang sariling paa. Isinantabi niya ang tradisyong Persyano at binuhay ang sariling pamilya. Dapat sana’y aakuin ng kapatid ng kanyang namatay na asawang si Ismael ang responsibilidad ngunit tinanggihan niya ang pagpapakasal dito.
Isa pa sa mga bagay na ipinagsawalang bahala ni Reyhan ay ang pagbubukas ng naiwang restawran ng kanyang lumipas na na asawa. Hindi naaangkop para sa isang babae ang magtrabaho sa labas ng bahay at lalo na ang magpatakbo ng isang negosyo. Sa paglipas ng panahon, ipinasara ni Nasser, kapatid ni Ismael, ang restawran ni Reyhan. Sa katapusan ng pelikula’y ipinakita si Reyhan na naghahanap ng trabaho sa ibang lugar.
Ang iba pang karakter na gumanap sa buhay ni Reyhan ay ang kanyang dalawang anak, na pilit sinusuyo ni Nasser, at ang kanyang kapatid na lalaki na tumulong sa kanya sa restawran. Isa pa sa mga natatanging karakter ay ang Griyegong si Zakario na nagkaroon ng pagtingin kay Reyhan at napalapit sa dalawa nitong anak. Ang husay sa pagluluto ni Reyhan ang nagsimula ng lahat. Sa katapusan ay tinanggihan ni Reyhan ang alok nitong magpakasal sa kanya. Ang huli ay si Evrieta, isang Rusyano na napadpad sa Iran sa paghahanap niya ng katahimikan mula sa mga nagaganap na gyerahan.
Mula sa napanuod kong pelikula ay marami akong natutuhan patungkol sa tradisyon at kultura ng Iran. Ang pinakamalaking impact ng palabas na ito sa akin ay ang feminist empowerment. Sabihin man nating mali talaga ang ginawa ni Reyhan, isa pa rin itong eye-opener para sa lahat patungkol sa diskriminasyon sa kababaihan. May isa lang siguro akong hindi nagustuhan sa kanyang mga ginawa, pinabayaan niya na lang ang dalagang Rusyano sa sarili nito pagkatapos niyang ikulong ng matagal. Kung tutuusin ay wala pang malay si Evrieta sa Iran, ang natutuhan niya lamang ay ang pagluluto at ilan pang mga gawaing bahay. Para sa akin, mas naging tama siguro ang ginawa ni Reyhan kung siniguro niya ang patutunguhan ng dalaga.
Ukol naman kay Nasser, marami rin siyang ginawang hindi maganda sa paningin. Isa dito ay ang pagputol niya ng hinahabi ni Sara, panganay na anak ni Reyhan, sa isang pagawaan. Malaki ang mensahe na ipinarating nito sa bata, ngunit hindi ito yung mensaheng nais niyang iparating. Kung tutuusin ay may dahilan naman si Nasser para sa lahat ng kanyang mga aksyon. Hindi naman talaga pangit ang nais niyang idulot sa pamilya ni Reyhan. Sa katunayan pa nga, sa simula ay marami pa siyang dinadalang regalo para kina Reyhan. Nagbago na lamang ang lahat ng maiparating na ni Reyhan sa kanya na wala nga siyang balak magpakasal kay Nasser.
Sa kabuuan, maganda ang tema ng pelikula. Hindi ako masyadong nagandahan, at mababa rin ang kalidad kung technicalities ang pag-uusapan. Ang Transit Café sa aking palagay, ay isang panaginip na naghihintay maganap sa katotohanan. Isa itong pangarap, lalo na ng mga kababaihan, na nagnanais ilabas ang talento at independence na mayroon ang bawat babae.
Anything but Failure
Writing an essay about a successful teaching experience is not easy. First off, I have to think of that certain successful teaching experience. How can I justify a particular teaching experience? Do I value quantity over quality or the other way around? Do I rely on the positive feedbacks, or on how I felt about myself during those teaching occasions? Worse part is that I have to answer these questions myself.
I thought about the times I taught people and went through them one by one. I tried to think of the best one that would suit the queries needed to be answered in this essay. I finally ended up with my tutorial sessions with three classmates from my fourth year high school. We usually studied Mathematics in the school library together. Everyday our teacher would give us an assignment and we, as students, had to wrestle with numbers and all sorts of figures.
The four of us—among the majority of students—usually do our homework in school. During lunch break, we would go up to the library and do our Mathematics homework there. I usually explain to them the lesson before we ink on our assignment papers. When everyone has a better understanding of the lecture, we answer the assignment individually.
You see, I’m not really into cheating. That’s probably why I prefer to teach them the lesson and then let them on their own. I count copying of homework as cheating. We do compare our answers but I don’t take it as copying. After all, what’s the point of teaching someone when one allows mistakes to go abandoned? Whenever we do not get the same results, we discuss our answers to check. This way, all of us get to exercise our brains and better understand the lesson.
Aside from Mathematics, we also study other subjects especially during exams. Two or three times, we meet at my classmate’s house to review. The most effective thing probably was that I was a bit strict when it comes to teaching. I give them lots of exercises to practice on and sometimes even give them assignments myself! I don’t really check if they do it though, I leave them that freedom to do it only if they want to. When it comes to Math, with all the formulas students need to strike down their throats, I make sure all the four of us memorize what is required. A learning technique that they learned to adopt is making a handy list. I usually write all the formulas in a piece of paper and try to memorize. A better way of memorizing, a practice my classmates started to do, is writing down a copy of the review list without looking on the original paper. Writing the formulas down again and again gets them stuck on all of our heads. That is why when it comes to exams, the four of us are all equipped for battle. During preparation, one can imagine the four of us whispering terms, holding a piece of paper.
I am quite convinced that I’d be able to make use of the procedures I used among my classmates on a classroom. As of now, I am also convinced that students will learn healthily. After all, my classmates did become skilled.
I thought about the times I taught people and went through them one by one. I tried to think of the best one that would suit the queries needed to be answered in this essay. I finally ended up with my tutorial sessions with three classmates from my fourth year high school. We usually studied Mathematics in the school library together. Everyday our teacher would give us an assignment and we, as students, had to wrestle with numbers and all sorts of figures.
The four of us—among the majority of students—usually do our homework in school. During lunch break, we would go up to the library and do our Mathematics homework there. I usually explain to them the lesson before we ink on our assignment papers. When everyone has a better understanding of the lecture, we answer the assignment individually.
You see, I’m not really into cheating. That’s probably why I prefer to teach them the lesson and then let them on their own. I count copying of homework as cheating. We do compare our answers but I don’t take it as copying. After all, what’s the point of teaching someone when one allows mistakes to go abandoned? Whenever we do not get the same results, we discuss our answers to check. This way, all of us get to exercise our brains and better understand the lesson.
Aside from Mathematics, we also study other subjects especially during exams. Two or three times, we meet at my classmate’s house to review. The most effective thing probably was that I was a bit strict when it comes to teaching. I give them lots of exercises to practice on and sometimes even give them assignments myself! I don’t really check if they do it though, I leave them that freedom to do it only if they want to. When it comes to Math, with all the formulas students need to strike down their throats, I make sure all the four of us memorize what is required. A learning technique that they learned to adopt is making a handy list. I usually write all the formulas in a piece of paper and try to memorize. A better way of memorizing, a practice my classmates started to do, is writing down a copy of the review list without looking on the original paper. Writing the formulas down again and again gets them stuck on all of our heads. That is why when it comes to exams, the four of us are all equipped for battle. During preparation, one can imagine the four of us whispering terms, holding a piece of paper.
I am quite convinced that I’d be able to make use of the procedures I used among my classmates on a classroom. As of now, I am also convinced that students will learn healthily. After all, my classmates did become skilled.
Wednesday, January 7, 2009
Learning to Become Stupid
Learning to Become Stupid
“How children learn…and fail” by John Holt
Reaction Paper
This paper for me is the type that makes me want to write a reaction paper on, even when I’m not required. Although I reflect on everything that I read, I find this one exceptional. I might say that it really strikes through me. I would like to become a teacher someday and I would want to make the most out of it, be the best of who I can be. Reading through this paper, I found myself recalling instances from my high school every time the author tries to bring up a point. I see them fit perfectly too. The essay speaks directly through me, and it surely made an impact. Not only do I understand how students, as I am, behave, but I also got key points on how I could become a better teacher.
The first phrase that really caught my attention was “school can be a ‘place where children learn to be stupid.’” I immediately thought about how school can make a student stupid. I then came to realize after a few sentences that the phrase stresses a good point. Children do become stupid because of school. School pressure, as I see it, is one of the greatest factors why children lose their enthusiasm in exploring things. Children either lose their curiosity, or develop fear of looking-like-they-are-a-failure that they do not ask. It’s such a shame that these usually develop through contact with the teacher… Students develop a habit of depending on the teacher on what right and wrong is; children tend to lose their own sense of choice.
As we all know, it is very common among teachers, or any other mentor, that they point out the students’ mistakes and correct them. This seems very likely for a mentor to do so since it is his/her job to teach and correct the students. The mistake here though, as Holt points out, is that it has an unlikely effect on the learner. Students tend to lose their sense of judgment, which eventually they cannot easily decide whether one thing is right or wrong, not even on their own work. Students just tend to do assignments because they are required but they don’t get the feeling of accomplishment. By a sense of accomplishment, I try to point out that students cannot convince themselves that what they did was right. Right and wrong all depends on the teacher. “Is my work done correctly?” a student will ask. That is simply how the system goes. The teacher lectures, the students do assignments and then it all goes back to the teacher. How then can we tell that the student really learned when they cannot tell by themselves if something is right or wrong? What happens here is that even without the teacher, they would keep relying on other resources such as books, to tell if something is correct. Or worse, they look for materials that could correct the mistakes they’ve made. The focus inclines to correcting mistakes, instead of learning what’s not.
Another great deal that’s worthy of taking notice of, is when Holt pointed out that students become scared half to death whenever they do not know how to answer a question a teacher points out to them. One thing I’ve noticed in the school system is that whenever such things happen, the teacher punishes the unknowledgeable in one way or another. He/She either commands the student to stand for a while, introduces a sermon on why students should study at home or do their assignments, or simply make the student feel that he/she has become a disappointment. From all of these, it can be concluded that the students lose their confidence. Most of the time, they are just afraid to speak up because they are not sure of themselves whether their answers are correct or not. These then all goes back to the case of teacher dependence. Can it be the teachers’ fault why students lose their sense of judgment?
In a later part of Holt’s essay, he raised the point that students make mistakes in written work because tension builds up. For some reason, I do not entirely agree with this. For of course, it’s not always the tension. It does affect a student’s thinking but not all students are anxious. This also goes back to teacher dependence. Students who tend to worry during examinations are those who cannot make up their minds whether they’ve made the right choice of answers or not. As Holt have quoted: “Worrying about whether you did the right thing…is less painful that worrying about the right thing to do.” Now, how does these two connect? Worrying about what the right thing to do builds up tension and when it does, the students tend to flunk at their examination papers.
From all of these, I can conclude that a teacher plays a big part on building up one child’s confidence. As a future teacher, I take it a good point that it is important that I learn how to build self-esteem in a child. After all, not only does a person need sense of judgment in school and exam papers, but also when he/she gets out in the real world.
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