Chancy is leaving to Malaysia tomorrow. Jacqui is having a vacation in the US for two months now. Tin has been promoted as a senior analyst. Allan has resigned from his teaching post in an international school. Sheng is busy with his work. Anna and KC are busy too with their studies.
I am confused and alone. If I were a sentimental writer, I’d describe my feeling as being in the crossroad with traffic lights in every corner: green, red and yellow lights keep blinking at me.
Scene: Girl rides in an FX taxi, closes the door feebly after getting in. A boy (that’s me) watches the scene with much interest.
Driver: Lakasan mo pa, Miss.
The girl tries closing it again with added force but the driver isn’t satisfied.
Driver: Lakasan mo pa nang konti.
Girl tries for the second time with a strength no greater than the first.
Driver: Kunyari galit ka sa boyfriend mo.
The girl is able to do it this time, much to the driver’s satisfaction. The boy smiles.
|
Ask an average tot what he wants when he grows up - chances are, you get the usual child’s dream. A doctor. Or a pilot. Or an astronaut. Any profession that would make them filthy rich someday. If the kid has a sibling or an aunt who works in a call center, he dreams of becoming like them too (everyone thinks it’s cool to speak in English). It’s rare that you’ll hear from a child he likes to become a teacher someday. Even my first "students" thought I had the makings of an effective teacher. The bahay-bahayan we built together would transform into a classroom came siesta time. Dolls, toy robots and cooking utensils were set aside, replaced by a blackboard hang on the makeshift wall. Our hushed voices (they were all excited to recite!) often broke the silence of the afternoon, when everyone was asleep. Sneaking was always successful and was always rewarded by a whip in the butt and a threat that we’d never grow up if we didn’t sleep during siesta. My students were clever enough to not believe such crap. They had always believed to whatever I "taught" them. As a responsible teacher, I provided them their school supplies. It was primitive at first: banana leaves and pointed sticks, then it evolved to old pencils and scratched papers though it never progressed to sophistication since the teacher was poor. When old folks in the barrio asked me what I wanted to be when I grow up, I would instantly answer with pride, "Teacher po." Every relative was hopeful that somebody in the clan would become a teacher someday. I was too loyal to that ambition I did not even consider other possible professions. Fast forward. Manila, circa ‘05. Summer vacation was not part of the itinerary. Right after receiving my diploma dummy, I was off to the real world, to the jungle, as they say. Makati became a tambayan and two-months wait was frustrating. A dementor of a sort - sucks out the happiness in you. Before I could take hold of a knife to slash my wrist, a new company opened its doors for me. There was no hesitance. The desperation was pushing me to the edge. Being a UP graduate wouldn’t entail fast job. It was ephemeral, lasted for one only semester. During the exit interview, I was summoned by the president to his office. The big wig investigated the reason a colleague (him being from UP too) wanted to leave the company. As much as I wanted to be transparent, I didn’t want to offend him by telling that the company wasn’t giving me the compensation I deserve. Right, I’m thankful for the knowledge and experience it’s giving me but hey, I have an obligation to support my family. With the measly salary I was getting, I could hardly buy my personal needs. Not even a cell phone! I have already accepted a position in another company so it was quite a futile attempt to dissuade me from leaving. Few days after my resignation, actually on my way home to the province, an officemate happily informed me she would be a full-time teacher come June. The news seemed to bring back an old, familiar ambition which has been shrouded by loftier dreams. Deep inside me, I could still feel that dream throbbing. While waiting for my officemate’s reply at the top of M/V Virgin Mary, I started contemplating for the possibility of taking a detour in my career path. What if I apply for a teaching position at Romblon State College? What if I pursue my plan of conducting a research while teaching there? So many what-ifs came to mind. The supposed vacation was not as restful as I imagined it to be. I was bugged by the thought of not coming back to Manila and serve my province instead, through teaching. When I brought the issue to my guardian, she gave me a puzzled look and probed, "Bakit?" as if, judging from her facial expression; she detested the idea so much. My elder sister even thought I was sick. You see, almost everybody regarded that idea pathetic. For why should I choose to sleep on the floor when I’m already ready to sleep in an elegant bed! Blame it to the idealism that UP taught me. Serve your fellow kababayan. Present time. I am now a call center agent, fighting with the sleepiness that starts to creep in due to boredom. An hour ago, I read my officemate’s e-mail. She’s happy with her job as an instructor. I replied by saying I have the same plans as hers, but not now. Not yet. I did not choose to work in the corporate world (you decide if call center is corporate) because my passion for teaching has faded or because I want to be rich much more than I want to be a teacher. For now, I choose this career because I need to build myself a stable future. It is tough especially when your heart burns with idealism but your mind dictates otherwise. I still want to be a teacher. I long for that orgasmic feeling again. As much as I could, I will hold on to my promise to return and serve my province as long as the passion to teach is there. I will try, yes, I will try not to be blinded by the opportunities that will come my way. I make this promise not in the same way a politician does. Welcome me someday, my dear Romblon, for I will be home again to serve you. *El Sueño is a Spanish term for "The Dream." |
His immediate recourse is the Internet which provides him the textual detail of the ending. He thinks Wikipedia is a kiss-ass info provider, since he no longer have to use a search engine that will direct him to myriad sites, that often provide inadequate info.
He reads this there: "The movie ends with the two boys slow-dancing in the courtyard of their council flats to the tune of the Cass Elliot classic, Dream a Little Dream of Me, while a guarding Sandra dances defiantly at their side with Leah, as the local residents look on, some of them shocked, some of them enjoying the moment themselves."
The scene may ring a bell to you if you happened to watch "Beautiful Thing," directed by Hettie MacDonald, which tells about the tender love story of Jaime and Ste, two high school students, that began during a hot summer on a South-East London housing estate. Jamie, a relatively unpopular lad who bunks off school to avoid football, lives next door to Ste, a more popular athletic lad but who is frequently beaten up by his father and older brother. Such an episode of violence brings Jamie and Ste together.Love scenes are minimal and except for the some kissing scenes, the movie could pass as R-13 if shown here in the Philippines.
It was Sir JP (whose film Hilo had a world premiere at the recent Cinemalaya Festival) who introduced us to Dogme 95, an avant-garde filmmaking movement started in 1995 by the Danish directors, with the film Festen, which is considered as Dogme number 1. The film class instantly fell in love with the movie even though its suject is not lovable, so to speak. My female classmates thought the main character was cute too, their infatuation was obviously due to the actor’s great acting. As I myself easily get attracted to good performers, I understood their admiration as valid.
The story is rather simple. Respected family patriarch and businessman Helge is celebrating his 60th birthday at their magnificent villa. Gathered together are his loyal wife, Elsa, his daugther Helene, his sons Michael and Christian and other guests.
Without any warning, Christian makes a speech to the family in which he accuses Helge of sexually abusing him and his late sister, Linda. His family and friends friends initially reject the accusations and try to avoid or ignore the issue. Christian battels with their responses in a way that echoes his own battle to accept the truth that he has smothered for so long. (Synopsis copied from Wikipedia.)
It’s the style and the concept behind the production that caused admiration to all of us. That admiration was extended to the person who introduced such film to us. As my former professor put it, mukhang nasilaw kami sa liwanag. Sir JP also took us to the world of less known artists, John Casevetes and Mike Leigh, whose works serve as his inspiration. Half way during that semester, he gleamed upon learning that we took extra time to watch the film he recommended "Babae sa Breakwater" which he adores.
Festen is one of the best examples of naturalist films where everything is depicted real within the realms of here and now. As I couldn’t find it in Carriedo, I was hoping that Sir JP would let me borrow his copy. Badly need it for my report in Naturalism. Hopes all gone after I texted him, I think I can persuade the class to believe that Dancer in the Dark is an example of Dogme 95, though it isn’t since the director of that film confessed he broke the law of the movement by using articial music and studio.
I just hope nobody reacts.
Forrest Gump is right to say that life is like a box of chocolate, you’ll never know what you’re gonna get. I found my favorite chocolates yesterday in Carriedo.
Secrets and Lies by Mike Leigh / Dancer in the Dark by Lar Von Tier / Pepi, Lucy and Bom by Pedro Almodovar / Irreversible by Gaspar Noe/ Salo by Piere Paolo Pasolini / Don’t Tell by Cristina Comencini / Belle de Jour by Luis Buñuel
The DVD store attendant was kind enough to let me know that they have a new set of classic films scattered on the floors, still in bundles. Hmm, I now realize that they refer art and foreign language films as classic. I grabbed those that my money could afford. A guy was browsing too and kept on asking me if I have seen this and that, giving suggestions and movie plots - reminds me of spoilers.
I’d certainly be back next week. If I’d be lucky again, I could find another rare collection. Envious was I when a friend told me she had found a DVD copy of Almodovar’s film collection in Carriedo. Though she was willing to share it with me, I still wanted to have my own copy. Unfortunately, my search seems to have been futile. Hmm, maybe she was just pulling my leg since I’m an Almodovar fan.
I miss her, Jacqui, she who gave me a VCD copy of Y Tu Mama Tambien on my 20th birthday.
1. There was a drizzle and some students, mostly girls, were sitting on the pavement in front of the Landbank ATM. As soon as the man snatched the receipt dispensed by the ATM, I immediately took over and excitedly inserted my card at the blinking slit. No allowance yet. With an expression that could rival a loser’s, I headed to my class. The loser’s face burnt like hell when he saw the same students in the pavement, and realized they were indeed queuing, probably waiting for several minutes for their turns!
And this loser, after realizing his grave mistake, uttered his apologies in his sincerest way, trying to convince everyone that he was not dumb. But he looked like one at that moment. Face and ears red, he repeatedly vowed to them saying sorry a gazillion times. The girls didn’t seem to mind. They might have understood the loser’s dumbness.
2. We were brainstorming for a good plot in our Spanish class in college when an interesting idea came to mind. A supressed thought needs to be blurt out. My groupmates were eager to hear my suggestion when I darted my hand to the air.
"Okay. Here’s the storyline - a girl has a suitor and the world is about to end because of a meteoride that will bump our planet. The girl is deaf… so on and so forth."
I was a timid boy in college. Rarely, almost never, spoke in front of the class. Timidity was their idea of kindness so they thought I came from the ancestry of St. Lorenzo Ruiz. My speech came as an early Christmas suprise to them. Their glued attention to me proved that. So I was confident to continue blabbering, adding ideas that would spice up the story I was bargaining and kept on pronouncing "deaf" as "dif." It was not until a brave soul tried to correct me that it’s "deaf" as in "def" and not "dif." My voice faltered, almost inaudible, but I still finished my concept.
Since I was timid and kind, I didn’t bother to explain why I pronounced it that way. It happened again when I pronounced "abono" with a hard "o." Saying sorry tao lang seemed futile to shake off the embarrassment.
No, I was present in every English class in high school so I wouldn’t miss any lesson in pronunciation. It’s just that nobody in the province cared if we pronounce the o’s and e’s the same way we use u’s and i’s. Nine for Nene and Tuyang for Toyang never matter.
3. For the past few days, I was addicted in Yahoo! Answer. You browse for questions, answer those that interest you, you get two points and if your answer is chosen as the best one, you receive 10 points. Below is one of the many I got.
What Was Your Most Embarrassing Moment?
I was aboard on a certain ferry from the province to Manila. To those who belong to the first-world countries, I’m sure this kind of sea transport doesn’t exist in your place. Anyway, this boat also transports animals and vehicles stationed at the lowest deck. Unfortunately, that deck also serves as the way out.
The boat was about to leave. The crew members were already untying the knots from the dock to release the boat. I was waiting for my friend and her ticket was with me. When the boat was about to close, I saw her running, carrying a luggage, toward the boat. I tried to get the attention of the ship crew to stop the door from hoisting up.
And here comes the climax: I was kicked by a cow when I tried to pass by toward the entrance to give my friend her ticket. Almost everyone saw that unfortunate event. I even heard some laughing. I could feel my face turned pink.
I regret the fact that I didn’t kick the cow in return.
Person who posted the question left his comment: "Wow."
I read it from Ian Casocot’s blog.
Something to look forward to after sulking over the death of some favorite characters and the supposed ending of the 7th book.
Harry Potter lands an exciting job as the head of the Auror department, Ginny works as correspondent of Quidditch in the Daily Prophet ( I wonder if she has to deal with Rita Seeker), Hermione joins the magical law enforcement and Ron serves as business partner with brother George in their jokeshop.
But wait - isn’t she writing a book about them? Mugglenet says she’s planning to but not now.
The series is Philippine telenovela at its best.
By the way, Time has a nice review of Deathly Hallows.
It started few weeks ago - the desire to buy a laptop. I’m finding it hard and time-consuming to rent a computer in an Internet cafe. Those highschool kids, whose study habits include DOTA and Friendster, never fail to shoo fellow renters away, myself included, with their ear-blasting speakers. And it never fails to make me wonder the gratification they’re getting from keeping their sounds high while playing and occasionally browsing some porn sites. So it’s goodbye for now to my favorite Internet cafe - Anglo, located under the LRT Pedro Gil station (a friend spelled it Pedro Hill once) But I may still be coming back every once in a while especially now that I don’t have an Internet connection yet.
Another reason of the pervent wish to have my own computer is it’s pronounced necessity in my MA. A friend thinks while I think it’s a priority, he doesn’t think so. Paperworks and reports are the main reasons I wanted to buy one. My adviser cautioned me to take 6 units since I have work. He’s afraid I couldn’t pass all subjects. But since my graduate scholarship requires at least 9 units for me to avail of the priviledges like monthly stipend and book allowance, I had to add another 3.
I began my quest on eBay.ph. A rat looking for some trash. Some deals were too good to be true, hence more chances of fraud. I never bothered to haggle to offers with poor listing descriptions and those sellers that didn’t do meet-ups. It was not until last week when my specifications were exactly met by a certain listing with a feedback score of 1. When you’re a regular buyer on eBay, you regard the feedback score valuable since it provides you an idea of the seller’s reputation. She was willing to have the item checked first before purchasing it and the price was still negotiable. The best and the cheapest deal I’ve ever found on the site for almost a month-long search! I excitedly picked my phone and let her know I was interested even though I didn’t have enough money to buy it.
Friends whom I sought help from were as pauper as me. I had no choice left but to approach a relative whom I haven’t seen for quite some time. The shock on her face was so subtle I almost didn’t notice it when she saw me at her doorstep, soaking wet from the Sunday rain and poor as a rat. She gladly lent the amount I was asking for, after a few minutes of pondering. "I’m working as a regular employee, I’m getting my allowance in two month’s time, I can give back the money if you desperately need it." The rat was happy. It was easy.
Meeting the seller was not. Doubts and fears kept me awake half the night. I even considered backing out from the transaction when I consulted a friend. He thought the price was too cheap and buying a second-hand laptop was not a good idea.
Bahala na si Batman. I was late in the meeting place. She was already there with her son. I pushed my wallet harder inside my pocket while taking furtive glances at the black bag sitting confidently on the chair beside her. I was greeted with a cheerful smile.
She said she was selling the item because she’s planning to buy a new one, now that her husband got promoted. She had no idea how the feedback works and that she just started selling on the site. She gained my trust when she said she and her husband had a terrible fight the other night and she woke up so early to fix the laptop paraphernalia. In return, I squealed a secret which makes me worry now in case she relates it to her friends and the entire country knows about it. A worried rat.
I didn’t feel any sense of regret or apprehensions when I handed her the payment. I thanked her a million times before they left to meet her husband waiting outside the Shangrila Mall. When I got home, I was thrilled to check the documents left in the laptop. Unfortunately, everything has been erased. There was no way for me to see how her husband looks like. She kept talking about him the whole time we met so that the image and the desire to see him was strong.
His name is Jeff and he works in a bank. A rat with a laptop can never work in a bank.
My plans last Saturday, July 28, were predictable - get up early to catch the first film in Cinemalaya, invite friends to come over and watch the last day of the festival, spend the rest of the day in CCP and try to watch all the films in competition. Unfortunately, I missed two in the full-length category: Tribu and Endo. I’d have to catch Tribu’s rerun at the UP Film Center. I just wish it doesn’t conflict with my work sched.
A friend of mine was able to watch it - she says it’s very dark and the director’s speech before the screening seemed to question the CCP ushers’ discrimatory behavior toward them. She adds she was bothered by the sporadic giggles and cheers from the audience. Later, she realized it was the group of actors of the film. Interesting.
It’s also interesting to watch this year’s ads - new breed of directors, cinematographers and writers in children’s form. Artistic.
Artistic. Word that will best describe "Still Life." I overheard someone from the audience that it’s like the Korean version of the overrated movie "The Lakehouse." The protagonist’s perspective being rendered in a painting form is very refreshing, a unique idea that’s never been used in other films. Ron Capinding deserves a citation in the best-performance-by-an-actor award. Memorable line: "Walang masayang art."
The lead actor in "Ligaw Liham" could have won the best actor award if not for the gross moment where he’s seen crying, sticky fluid cascading from his nose. I liked and dreaded the possibility of letters being held hostage by a corrupt public official. A friend of mine thinks the film is a miscast - Karylle is too pop, she ruined the film (this is not my idea). Seeing Peque Gallaga’s name in most of the credits made me think he’s the director. Memorable line: "Nakakaadik."
"Gulong" ‘cycles’ in a common idea: the nobility of children. It’s like watching "Magnifico", minus the tears. A feel-good movie which you’ll easily forget afterwards. Memorable line: I couldn’t think of any. Memorable scene: when the child catches rats.
Pisay - an intelligent film. Audience choice. I’m sure after a month or two, this will be run-away hit in theaters. And my friend is a hundred percent sure, there’ll be no Aureus in the next Cinemalaya. Memorable line: "Baskayon na naman."
Most think that Tukso is a modern-day version of Rashomon. I quite agree. Different versions of truth from several characters is a reminiscent rendition of the Japanese tale. I’d like to know the reaction of feminists in this film. As someone from the audience aptly puts it, "Everyone’s life became better after the girl’s death. Where’s the justice?" By the way, Mr. Marasigan was my professor in Production Design in UP Manila.
Among the movie posters, "Sinungaling na Buwan" is my favorite. Reminds me of foreign language films I browse in Carriedo. Poster pa lang malupit na. It would have been my most favorite too if not for the weak confrontation scene toward the ending. It’s too sudden and the viewer is lost as to what is happening. Kalila Aguilus, due to her superb acting, was my bet for the best actress award. If fans of JR Valentin expects some flesh here, they’d not be at all disappointed.
I’m not sure if I was the only soul in the Nicanor Abelardo theater who felt bored with the looooong opening scene in "Kadin", you’d wonder if it will ever end. Good thing it’s consistent for the most part - the trouble is it wastes time. Again, my friend reckons it shows how life goes in Batanes: slow.
If a friend reads this, she’d think it’s her blog. By the way, you can read her own review here
The next Cinemalaya is definitely something to be looked forward to.
5:40am. Guadalupe. After getting off from the jeepney, I heard someone called my name. I thought I was dreaming or imagining things - which has become my habit these past few days.
It was Sheng. A college friend and classmate. She’s also going to work. In such moments where you know time is of the essence, you tend to ask relevant, important questions.
Sheng: Ba’t dito ka sumasakay?
Rai: Sa Shaw office ko. Tapos mo na Harry Potter?
Sheng: Hindi pa. Na-promote si Tin. Senior Analyst na siya.
Rai: Wow. Sige ingat. Bye.
A sudden pang of envy hit me as I crossed the street, joining the throng of people hurrying up for work. The sun was crimson red in the east. My stomach was rumbling, the sound it produced was inaudible amidst the cacophony of honking vehicles.
Tin and I were officemates. We belonged to a different team though. Hers was better - in a fair view. We were also classmates in college and she’s one of the cleverest students in class. A Harry Potter fanatic. She spoofed Harry in her grad pic complete with wand, eyeglasses and dressrobe. The effect was Harry’s female version. Hermione with eyeglasses.
Thinking about the company where I spent almost 6 months, I could feel a sense of regret. My performance was mediocre. I was having fun. Besides, I have long accepted the truth that everything is transient. I don’t want to get stuck into something but I want some sense of permanence.
I beamed when I grabbed my phone and sent my kudos to Tin. Her promotion deserves a celebration.
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