Entries for April, 2007
Riding on the water, the wind whipping my face, the sun on my shoulders, and memories of an entire lifetime rushing through me in a split second- as my four-year old nephew would say, "This is the life."
It seems that everytime I go home to the province I pick up a new lesson or two that dig deep in my brain. These lessons I learn will probably stick with me until the day i die, or when I go senile. In so many words, they'll be with me for a long time.
The trip back home made me realize the first important thing. I was to fly home bringing my said nephew. I've done it before, so it was no big deal. I waited in the airport for my sister to drop him off. It was fifteen minutes to the departure time when my sister showed- with a lot of baggage. Let me draw the picture for you:
I was alone with a four-year old kid in an airport. I had to hold him at all times- an airport is an easy place to get lost. I only had one hand left to handle three pieces of large baggage plus two hand-carry ones.
Ten minutes until departure. All check-in counters for Cagayan de Oro were already closed. I started to panic.
A counter clerk took pity and checked us in. Though he said if the supervisor caught him he'd be in trouble. I thanked God for the first time in so many years.
The line for the boarding pass was a mile long, and I could have sworn that the last call for our flight had already been announced. I kept bugging the attendant that we had to zip through, but he kept insisting he didn't hear the call. My nephew innocently asked, with Teddy clutched in his hand, "Why are we running?" I almost cried.
"Ali, Tita is very scared."
It was during this moment that I realized how responsibility felt like. I wasn't scared for myself. I was scared for him. I don't know why, but I just felt that way. Realizing that the actual meaning of responsibility is worrying for somebody else important to you and doing everything to not screw it up.
When we finally got through the line we were the only passengers left and the doors almost closed. We ran, got on the plane, and buckled up. I let out a sigh of relief. I hadn't slept for three days and here I was entertaining a kid's 213 questions about everything.
Holy Week. Where in Jesus Christ's life, most things happened. His sacrifices, the betrayal, the epiphany. Somehow, I still think it's one of the very impressive stories in actual history. It's interesting to note though, that the gravity of the life Jesus lead created more impact and drama to me now than when I was still "really Catholic."
Anyway, a priest once said, "If you sin, sin boldly." And I think that was rather well said. I'll remember that for the rest of my life.
The entire family, including my sisters, spent the Holy week in Cebu. Nothing like being with the entire family again. It's just priceless. Figuratively and literally. For the whole time I walked without bringing my wallet. Like a return to when we were kids, asking mama and papa what to do, where to go, telling them what we wanted to eat, that kind of stuff. Except that my parents were getting old, we're traveling with my sister's kid, another sister is getting married, the other one could finally treat us to some massage, and our little brother is no longer little.
My parents had been very controlling when we were children, and seeing them exerting the same effort over our brother, we sisters knew what was going on. However, we all concluded that he'd grow over it someday. The university would do him good to get away in time.
The rest of the time in Cebu was spent in the mall. It was here I clearly saw how my father, despite his controlling nature, spoils us all. We had a three-day shopping spree. My dad didn't go out shopping, and my brother didn't enjoy it as well. It must be a guy thing. All three days his schedule depended on us and 'granted us the ability to shop'. He wanted to go to this really old and cheap barbecue chicken place, and we were never really hot about the idea. We kept pushing that trip for later until it was completely forgotten. When we finally remembered and had the time to go, something came up that we cancelled it again.
My dad never got to go where he really wanted. While we got to shop for almost anything we could think of.
My nephew got to climb on a tree for the first time in his life. He had no idea how to climb one. When I was a kid his age I reached branches two stories high, unaccompanied. He was holding on to my mother for balance but my mother said:
"If you want to climb, you climb on your own, use your head and think where the next step should be. If you fall, you fall on your own."
I also climbed the tree for the first time in eight years. My mother took my picture and said, "wait till your boyfriend sees this."
My mother can be so cool.
We went to Mactan Island for a day. My dad is really vain, and he sprayed tanning oil every fifteen minutes. He turned a nice gold. It was inevitable to get a little darker so I decided I might as well go gold too. My sister said, "If you can't become whiter, you can get tanner." A sexy tan would do nicely.
My dad ordered from some local fisherman a large clam. Not really giant, but way bigger than your palm. We weren't too keen on the idea. I particularly don't get excited over shells and stuff. Anyway, the thing's P100 each, and when you open it it's just like two tablespoons of meat. The way the fisherman prepared it was: when he opened it he took the meat out, chopped it, put it back in the shell, put some vinegar, onions, and tomatoes. Okay, I just ate for the sake of trying. You know, dying with at least having to taste an endangered species. Heh.
"Let's take the shell home."
"Do you realize how many decades it took for that clam to get to that size?"
"And consuming it in less than five minutes."
"Taking such shells home is illegal."
"We already killed it, and ate it. How much more illegal can you get?"
We got on a small boat to get to a small island and go snorkling. A one-way ride was about 20 minutes. On the ride back, I was sitting on the edge, with my feet over the water. The wind was so nice, the sun was just right. I was so thankful that I got to travel. So thankful to my parents, no matter what their imperfections, for always giving us opportunities to travel and experience adventure.
I always thought vacation was an escape, and spending more time with yourself. In a way, yes. You get to forget school or work or other worldly matters for a while. But when you're there, having a great time, the earth wrapping around you, you get to think about the important people in your life like "I bet she'd have liked this" or "They'd have enjoyed this" or "He should see what I'm seeing right now".
When I was there feeling the earth under my feet, brushing my skin, or filling my lungs, I didn't get to think about myself at all. I got to think of everyone in my life who made me who I am right now. That without them, I'd have experienced the earth a lot differently.
Baboysai reads Ranma 1/2
Baboysai watches Schooru Rumburu!
For a long time now, the anime Ranma 1/2 has intrigued me.
For those who don't know who Ranma is, shame on you. Even if you don't watch anime, shame on you. Of course all kids know about Ranma! The transgender bitch, as one enemy calls him. Yes, the boy who trained with his father in the cursed springs in China, falls into the spring of drowned girl, thus turning into a girl when wet with cold water and turning back into a guy when wet with hot water. The boy whose father turns into a panda the same way. The boy betrothed to the cute heart-throb he calls uncute and violent. The boy offered as a future husband to a pizza chef in exchange for a food cart. The boy chased by a Chinese amazon to become her husband for defeating her in combat. The boy who, when he becomes a girl, is chased blindly by the rich but stupid kendo master. Ranma.
A lot of questions really pile up. Just for Ranma for example, we ask the following questions:
1. Who will Ranma end up with?
2. Will Ranma and the rest of the cursed ever find a cure?
Enter about 20 more characters and you get the picture. There are questions for all of them.
I must admit, though quite old, the anime is well made and really hits the laughing pressure point. But I not only wanted to watch for laughs, I wanted answers to the questions. A story is not a story when there are no knots tied in the end. I wanted to know what happened to everyone because I, being my cheesy, mushy self, had to find out who ended up with who.
See, Ranma is involved with at least four women, namely:
Akane- who, according to Ranma, is the uncute violent tomboy, but is actually a heart-throb in school. Akane hated men because it was agreed that whoever beat her would become her boyfriend. And so she is used to clobbering the guys at school. It was agreed that Akane be the daughter to be engaged to Ranma for the reason that Ranma was half-girl, thus she could hate him by 50% less. Unconciously she falls for Ranma and works hard to earn his praise. However, because of Ranma's insensitivity, she releases her temper by physical means, thus she is labeled as violent. The problem with Akane is that however concerned she may be of Ranma's welfare, she fails to clearly express her true feelings, causing Ranma to be confused about her.
Shampoo (Xian Pu)- who was the undefeated Chinese amazon fighter until Ranma beat her in an all-girls competition. She gave Ranma the kiss of death, promising to follow and kill the reciever of the kiss. Upon discovering that Ranma is indeed a male, she instantly falls in love with him. Shampoo, bound by the amazon law to marry the man that defeats her, follows Ranma to the cursed springs and falls into the spring of drowned cat. Unfortunately for her, cats are Ranma's phobia, thus explaining Ranma's repulsion toward her. Shampoo considers Akane as the greatest hindrance and often plots to kill her to have Ranma for herself.
Ukyo- who is the daughter of an okinomiyaki chef and Ranma's childhood friend. When Ukyo's father went bankrupt Ranma's father promised to take care of Ukyo and promised Ranma to be her husband if the okinomiyaki cart was offered as a dowry. Ranma's father took the dowry, but left Ukyo behind. A few years into the present and Ukyo finds Ranma to make him her husband, claiming she has every right as Akane to be engaged to Ranma.
Kodachi- who fell in love with Ranma when he saved her from a fall. Kodachi usually uses dirty tricks, often paralyzing Ranma to incapacitate him to escape. Kodachi doesn't know of Ranma's curse, and confuses Ranma's girl form as his girlfriend. Thus, she also attacks Ranma when in girl form.
Realizing that watching the anime might be in vain, I immediately decided to switch to reading the manga. In all fairness, even without the funny animations and sounds, the author still managed to make me laugh at random. Almost at every two pages is a genuine funny scene<-- which of course caused odd stares in the house turn my way for laughing at the computer monitor.
However, the story was structured to cater to young boys- readers and an audience much like that of Dragon Ball or perhaps One Piece? If I was reading the story looking for girly stuff, I was greatly mistaken. This expectation caused my disappointment in the end. Because the story was not about Ranma's love for whoever, the story was about his struggle as a martial artist and regaining his reputation as a man by relieving him of his curse. Though in the end, the writer did put a closure by providing an answer to my question #1 stated earlier. However, I was not satisfied simply because I was looking for the wrong things in the story.
Even then, I still give points for the originality of the whole thing, its success in being a comedy manga, the insanity of it all. No other story could pull it off but Ranma 1/2.
Title: Ranma 1/2
Author: Rumiko Takahashi
Original Run: 1987-1996
Rating:
/10
Baboysai listens to Kiss The Rain by Billie Myers
Baboysai reads School Rumble
I saw it first from David's site, and followed the link.
Ripped from pintday.org:
You Know You're An Architecture Student When...
A litany of depressing behavours.
- The alarm clock tells you when to go to sleep.
- You're not ashamed of drooling in class anymore, especially during Structures lectures
- You know what Superglue tastes like. ("Unfortunately" for me I didn't get a chance to build a bridge model with the rest of them guys)
- You celebrate space and observe your birthday.
- Coffee and Red Bull are tools, not treats.
- People are nauseated just by smelling your caffeine breath. (I still brush my teeth, thanks)
- You are surprised when you see a new building in your school.
- You think it's possible to create space. (Yeah, pretty arrogant of us, huh?)
- You've slept more than 20 hours non-stop in a single weekend.
- You fight with inanimate objects.
- You've fallen asleep in the bathroom. (How 'bout hardly spending any time in the bathroom?)
- Your brother or sister thinks he or she is an only child. (In my case it's the opposite because I encroach the living room, kitchen, and any other space to dump my boards, models, and rolls of paper)
- You've listened to all your CDs in less than 48 hours.
- You're not seen in public. (When submission of plates are near)
- You lose your house keys for a week and you don't even notice. (Due to it being buried under cardboards and rolls of paper)
- You've brushed your teeth and washed your hair in the university's bathroom. (It's either that, or I don't go to school until work's done. In which case, all I'd have to do in school is submit the d*mn thing and take a cab home. I've been seen wearing scrubsuits to school just for a submission)
- You've discovered the benefits of having none or very short hair, and you've started to appreciate inheriting baldness.
- You've used an entire roll of film to photograph the footpath.
- You know the exact time the vending machines are refilled. (No vending machines in our building)
- You always carry your deodorant. (For overnights, yup)
- You become excellent at recycling when making models.
- When you try to communicate, you make a continuous and monotonous whine.
- You've danced YMCA with excellent choreography at 3 am and without a single drop of alcohol in your body. (In my case it was "Wonderboy" by Tenacious D)
- You take notes and leave messages with a rapidograph and colour markers. (Or Love pets, the colored gel pens from National Bookstore)
- You combine breakfast, lunch and dinner into one single meal.
- You see holidays only as extra sleeping time.
- You've got more photographs of buildings than of actual people.
- You've taken your girlfriend (boyfriend) on a date to a construction site. (No time for dates, even. Sigh)
- You've realised that French curves are not that exciting.
- You can live without human contact, food or daylight, but if you can't print it's chaos.
- When you're being shown pictures of a trip, you ask about the human scale
- You can use Photoshop, Illustrator and make a web page, but you don't know how to use Excel. (Haha, so true)
- You refer to great architects (dead or alive) by their first name as if you knew them (Frank, Corbu, Mies, Norman).
- You buy 50 dollars worth of magazines that you haven't read yet. (Yeah, just looking at the pictures)
- When someone offers you a Bic pen, you feel offended. (Annoyed, actually. Who buys a Bic pen? I certainly don't)
Baboysai reads None! Any suggestions?
Baboysai watches Nodame Cantabile AGAIN!
1. The f*cked up Registration system over here at UP Diliman. Real-time enlistment my *ss.
2. Incoming 2nd years should not take PI 100 (Rizal Studies) BECAUSE YOU ARE NOT ALLOWED TO YET. Them enrolling takes away a big chunk of our chances to get this slot. Our- being the old and graduating. How selfish can they get?
3. It's so Jinit Jackson! 36 degrees, wtf?
4. I'm just really stalling. Got so many things I have to think about, I can't write a decent entry. F*ck. I planned to give reviews but I'm hopefully at least pretending to be so busy and important, ha.
5. The one thing I'm really excited about is my little toy poodle who'll be under my wing by may 1st. Though the responsibility is kinda big and scary, I really want to have one, and I guess it's a simple step to adulthood to manage this dog. I haven't named her yet. She's a black poodle. Got any names?
The Philippines, then just a mere group of give-take 7,000 islands, inhabited by nomads, migrants, and natives, had extremely fertile lands. It had lush forests, fresh waters, coastal areas, abundant wildlife. It was rich like thick hot chocolate oozing from grandmother's pot. If nature had run its course, what could we have been? How could we have coped with the onslaught of world trade, the world politics, the vast invasion of technology? How would I look like today? My mother's roots are Spanish, my father's are Chinese. If nature had run its course, like a child left alone to play, Philippines would not have had a stunted growth, with a lot of insecurities, psychological, and physical effects. The child that was Philippines could have grown healthy and vibrant like a child reared with a mother's love.
But we were never left alone, were we? We were never set free. Until the scars were too deep and affected our growth, as a people, as a land, as a nation.
It was said that before the Spaniards came, the people of pre-colonial Philippines had no concept of a nation. This, in part, is true. The people didn't even have an idea how many islands there were that formed this peninsula. But it is not true that it was Spain who had made Philippines a nation. In fact, Spain tried with all her might to keep us from being a nation, like a plant deprived of sunlight.
The Spanish conquistadores took advantage of the little communities, controlling them one by one. Using the newly conquered men, they moved to conquer more tribes, native turning against native. Was it amusing? Even when an educational system was established, the so-called schools had poisoned the children to turn against their own country, their home.
Spain had wanted Philippines to herself. Yet to what gain? Keeping the colony was a vaccuum to her treasury. For more than 200 years her government had endured the deficits just to keep the Philippines, that it was a divine mission to bring the people closer to God. Were we sacrifices? The burden on the Spanish treasury had pressured the Spaniards to lash out on the Filipino people.
The Indios. The educated Indios. The rich Indios. The descriminated half-bloods. The lowly pure-bloods. Everyone on the Philippine soil was no longer happy. Other Filipinos, upon seeing the world outside the Philippines, had seen in a different perspective. But the truth was common to everyone, to the Indios, educated or not, rich or poor-- that people were not naturally born to be oppressed, beaten like animals, butchered like pigs. People were born into the world to live, naturally thirsting for knowledge. It was human nature to seek happiness in life.
Yet the Filipinos' revolt against the Spaniards, Rizal's dream of becoming a nation, were all in vain. For more than 300 years, the Filipinos had endured the suffering. In a blink of an eye America beseiged a resisting Philippines. Laborers and farmers against trained soldiers and cannons. The average American soldier killed 50 Filipinos. The U.S troops unleashed close to 130,000. Children grew up full of dreams, all to die in a massacre.
300 years of being in the dark and suffering. 100 more years of deception and treachery. The tribes and minorities that up to now exist, that is what I call giving a fight. How much more can we take? Where did they bring us?
Today, we are still the same. Dog biting dog. Government officials deceiving the masses, plundering hard-earned money from the people. To think that such barbaric practices such as puppeteering still exists by imperialist forces is depressing. Where is the globalization? Where is the technology? Where is the freedom?
It must hurt to be blamed by your own countrymen.
Lazy.
Stupid.
Sells her own people.
Hopeless.
It's been more than 400 years. We're exhausted.
I admit, I don't particularly like basketball. It's too common. Pfft. Big deal. American sport. If we were talking about NBA in MJ's time, then yeah it might have been a big deal. I mean, Michael Jordan set the pace. It's Michael Jordan! Beyond that, I don't give a sh*t. Screw basketball.
When Slam Dunk! first aired in the Philippines, I thought it was a joke. I mean, Japanese are not really known for basketball. And I thought they also didn't give a sh*t. Well, whatever. For those of you who don't know what I'm talking about, Slam Dunk is an anime that was aired in the Philippines and dubbed in Filipino by the GMA 7 network about 5 years ago.
So anyway, I kept watching the thing, only because back then I really had a blind commitment to watch all anime on TV. It turned out it wasn't only me who watched this thing. After all, it kept showing so I guess half the children's population in the country watched it.
Watching Slam Dunk was kinda fun. It was all because of the infamous redhead, Sakuragi. Every other kid knew Sakuragi. And the team captain called Gorilla.
But I still don't like Basketball.
Only when I got to read the graphic novel it was based on did I understand what Slam Dunk was all about. Well yeah, it was mainly about basketball. Probably 50%. In all fairness to the basketball parts, the artist and writer Takehiko Inoue was brilliant. His studies on form and movement were amazing. Naturally, a graphic novel highly concentrated on sports had to have a good portrayal of the sport. But this wasn't good, it was exceptional. I haven't read any other sports graphic to compare it with but I can really tell, from other graphics I've read, that the art is beyond ordinary.
Reading this comic was just as exciting as watching MJ. Well, maybe 3% less. But hey, D. Wade never made me cheer like when I'm reading this graphic. Yep, even if I don't like basketball.
When I read this manga, I realized that however unparalleled the art, and how exciting Inoue made the games, I found more to it than just the score they had to beat, or the nationals that the team had to win. There was more to the story than just basketball. The story was first about the dream. That there had to be a goal, and once locked, the discipline one had to undertake to reach that goal. I came to understand about athletes more, and respecting them. In this way Inoue was also successful in making the readers empathize with the characters, to feel the happiness in victory, and taste the sadness of defeat.
Slam Dunk!: Story and Art by Takehiko Inoue, 1990-1996
In a poll of over 79,000 Japanese fans for the 10th Japan Media Arts Festival, Slam Dunk! was voted the #1 manga of all time.
It was studied that after the publishing of this manga, the number of youths that were interested in basketball in Japan and the South East countries increased.
Another testament to Inoue's greatness is the graphic novel Vagabond. A work that was later than Slam Dunk, the art in Vagabond had developed to an extremely high level. Inoue's attention to detail became more refined, his pen strokes more detailed than his previous work. In Slam Dunk, the action panels during a game almost always took my breath away. But in this particular work, 99% of the panels make me want to cry tears of respect, if there's such a thing.
Perhaps this work could only be compared to Berserk by Kentaro Miura. Miura works on details pretty closely too, and the level of art is also very high. The difference between Miura and Inoue's works is the studies on form. Inoue's form studies greatly improved compared to his previous work. The way he displays the characters shows in itself his great respect for the human body and its forms when toned with exercise, especially through rigorous sword and martial arts training. This time again, much finer than his previous work, he can draw movement clearly, yet create in the reader's head the sense of grace and speed that comes with martial arts.
Of course like all graphic novels, even with stunning art, one has to scratch beneath to reveal a story. And Vagabond is no ordinary story either. Although it may be another adaptation of the life of Japan's great sword-saint Miyamoto Musashi (1584-1645), it had been noted to create a different perspective of the said Musashi.
Vagabond: Story and Art by Takehiko Inoue, 1998-still running
Vagabond won the 2000 Media Arts Festival Grand Prize from the Japan's Agency for Cultural Affairs and won the 24th Kodansha Award for Best Manga. In 2002, Vagabond was bestowed with the highly-acclaimed Tezuka Osamu Cultural Award. The following year, Inoue received nomination for the 2003 Eisner Award in the category of Best Writer / Artist.
I won't be back until probably May 4. Meanwhile, you can read my stuff- two articles that have been going on in my head for quite a time now. If you don't care, go away, b*tch.
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