Good and Bad News Today

I opened inquirer.net tonight to read some news after trying to squeeze my mind in vain for an article on multilingualism and the use of our mother tongue in education. I had hoped to come up with a really good article on the issue so I would finally be able to post something about it in Bilingual Pen. But after several hours in front of my PC, my computer screen still remained blank, so I decided to give up and go to bed instead. But not before clicking on the news website for some run down of today’s event, which I knew would revolve around Filipino boxer Manny Pacquiao’s win over his much bigger and more famous opponent, Oscar dela Hoya.

So there he was, Pacquiao dominating the site. But somewhere below the victorious images of Pacquaio was a relatively less prominent headline which, nonetheless, shocked me. It read: Actor Marky Cielo Dead. The news story said the promising young actor died in his sleep. He was only 20.

I am not into celebrities, but I know Cielo rose to fame when he became the ultimate survivor of the talent search StarStruck season 3. I had liked him from the start because he looked very Filipino (unlike the faces dominating our television with their Caucasian looks). Though he proved to be very talented, he remained the epitome of humility. And what’s more, he was a proud son of one of the country’s minority groups — the Igorots.

When he won the top prize in the search two or three or four years ago, I had harbored hopes in my heart that Marky would be able to help make our people realize that there is nothing wrong about being a part of a minority group; that with his help, the country’s minority groups will finally be given the recognition that they deserve. Indeed I feel sad that this young man, this young soul who had shown a lot of promise is gone.

Indeed, life is full of turns. And death comes like a thief in the night.

May he rest in peace.


Check out my other blogs:
Bilingual Pen
Bard and Brain
Photo.Graphic Thoughts
Taeng ni Ayat

Made in China Toys

With the current massive scare on China-made products, I wonder:

Is it safe to give to my nephews the toys I bought from Jollibee and McDonald's (through their Kiddie/Happy Meals)? The toys these fast food chains give out are made in China. So I am worried it might not be wise to give them to my nephews. What do you think?

I guess, my question is: Can we rely upon these companies (Jollibee and McDo) to ensure that the toys they give out are safe?


Check out my other blogs:
Bard and Brain
Bilingual Pen
Photo.Graphic Thoughts
Taeng ni Ayat

OFW Phenomenon, Mail-order Brides, Prostitues, and More

Domestic helpers. Mail-order brides. Exporters of human labor. Phony businessmen.
These are how people the world over have come to know us, Filipinos. And I can’t blame them. For though it’s not completely true that these are what constitute us as a people, it’s not completely false either.

A big chunk of our population — roughly ten percent — are Overseas Filipino Contract Workers (OFWs), many of whom are working abroad either as domestic helpers, construction or factory workers, or health workers. Our OFWs are our modern-day heroes, so they say, because they have saved the country’s economy many times over through their remittances. Without our OFWs, our economy would have long gone under.

And we do have mail-order brides — women who have become wives or girlfriends of foreign nationals through dating sites. I do not think this phenomenon is true only among Filipinos, or SouthEast Asian women for that matter, but our case seems to be out of proportion. Just type in the word “Filipina” in the search engine, and you’d see sites advertising Filipinas as if we were commodities. Being a Filipina, this situation affects me greatly, more so because I cannot claim that the conception that Filipinas are mail-order-brides is entirely false. Many Filipinas have actually taken the easy road to financial security — by marrying a foreign national they met only through the internet, and who they have never met before tying the knot, and someone they don’t — or at least, didn’t at first — love.

And so that’s what our women have come to be known — not just mail-order brides, but brides for sale.

When I was a sophomore student in the university, one of my professors, a tall, young, and light-skinned mestiza-looking woman once related to class one of her experiences in an Asian country during a get-to-know party among international scholars. A friend jokingly introduced her as a European, and everybody believed him. Then this friend introduced her as Chinese, and again, everyone believed him. Then Latin American. Again, everybody believed him. Until this professor told her friend to cut the game out, to tell everyone the truth: that she was a Filipina. So they did; but this time, no one believed them. They thought they were joking. No, it wasn’t because she didn’t look like a Filipina, but because they couldn’t believe there’s a Filipina who would be intelligent enough to be part of that group. They thought Filipinas were only either nannies or prostitutes.

Just recently, a friend of mine who works as a marketing assistant in Qatar told me that if only she had a job to come back to in the country, if she weren’t thinking about how difficult their financial situation back home was, she would have quitted her job. “It’s different here, Sis,” she told me. “They have very poor opinion about Filipinos. They would tell you face to face that Filipinos are stupid, and loose. It’s degrading. But you know what? Sometimes, you couldn’t blame them. There are really quite a number of Filipinas here who are… uhmm… misbehaving.”

There are many other related stories about discrimination and misconceptions about our country’s womenfolk; all disheartening. Though Mary’s sin is not necessarily Ann’s, their common denomination — nationality — make other nationals think they are the same. Logically speaking, this thinking is fallacious, but perception is not the domain of logic. Right or wrong, logical or not, this perception remains, and we shall be viewed through the lens of that perception, whether we like it or not.

We can’t blame other nationals for their misconceptions about us. We do have mail-order brides. We do have women who have become victims of the sex trade. We also have countrymen who have falsified their documents to gain entry to other countries. There are also those who do fishy business. We have women who would shamelessly ask (demand?) financial support from their foreign boyfriends. We have bar girls who do dirty tricks on their costumers. But still, I can’t help but wish that when others look at us as a people, they would look deeper than the skin color, beyond the one-word entry in the passport that reads Filipino. Because while it is true that a number of our people had made mistakes in the past, and are committing the same mistake now, it doesn’t mean we are all the same. We share many things, but every person’s actions reflect the choices he made alone, not the choices his comrades made, are making, or shall make.

That we export labor is a sad thing. But I don’t think it should make me hang my face in shame. And no matter how “lowly” the jobs Filipinos hold abroad, I don’t think we should be ashamed of them. OFWs have gone to work overseas to do the things their employers hate doing, or can’t do. They care for their employer’s elders. They fix their mess. These jobs, though seemingly lowly and menial, are respectable. They care for their employers’ children, while inside they are hurting… hurting that own their children back home whom they left long before they were old enough to memorize their parents’ faces, are left uncared for. And the OFWs wonder, and hope, and pray, that the money they send their kids would be enough to pay for their absences (though knowing full well they it won’t be), that the material comfort their remittances could buy their children would be enough to nurture them until they go back back home to care for them, never to leave them again.

There are thousands of OFW success stories, but for every thousand happy endings, is another thousand of wrecked home and children gone wild. Very sad, indeed. But sadder still is the fact that our government is doing nothing to solve the problem. Instead of creating jobs right at home, our government encourages its people to leave and find work abroad. And to send remittances back home.

Yes, we Filipinos are up for sale. And we’re a bargain. We have medical specialists who work as nurses abroad. Lawyers who work as hotel janitors. Professionals who work as nannies.
Ah, I wonder… I wonder what I’m worth in the international market. And what I’d be doing abroad had I, too, chose to leave.

//Sherma E. Benosa
03 August 2008


Check out my other blogs:
Bard and Brain
Bilingual Pen
Photo.Graphic Thoughts
Taeng ni Ayat

Surrender

You hold me
captive in your quiet
stares. Your arms
reaching out
though they are
still.

And as words
keep their silence,
I hear
your soul’s oration
and your heart’s
whispers.

I allow a tinge
of smile to
paint itself
on my lips.

The sun
is most
captivating
when in its softest
shades.

.

//Sherma E. Benosa
14 September 2008; 12:10pm

Check out my other blogs:

Bard and Brain
Bilingual Pen
Photo.Graphic Thoughts
Taeng ni Ayat

The Face of Peace

The voice of worry
Whispers
In the ears
Of my jaded soul’s
Fitful attempts
To rest my eyes
From the landscape
Of my broken dreams
In the forsaken sky
Of my busted wings;
Its discordant tune
Humming a boisterous
Music that knows
No melody;
Chanting lyrics
That cut through
The hope that resides
Within me.

I fumble for
The white handkerchief
To throw it
Into the arena
Of my struggles.

But then I get
A glimpse of you
Just lying in your cradle
And suddenly
My lips refuse
To pronounce the name
Of surrender.

You sigh softly,
Allowing me to hear
The rhythm
Of your heart,

Reminding me
The texture
Of the love
You brought
From up above.

The discordant
Music fades,
Now replaced
By the hymn
Of your praise.

I watch your face,
The rise and fall
Of your chest,
Not realizing
I’m being hypnotized
To allow myself
To be hugged
By the calmness
Of your peace.

I fold
The handkerchief
Of defeat
And put it back
To where I cannot
Get it.
I’ve no use
For it now;

My wings
Are fixed once again
To soar towards
The vast sky
Of life’s hurdles.

I bend over,
Allowing myself
To drink in
The softness
Of your sighs.

Then I whisper
Into your ears:
“Thank you, Manman,
For showing me
The face of peace.”


//Sherma E. Benosa
27 August 2008; 10:50am

Posted as a contribution to the Picture-inspired poem challenge at Bilingual Pen.

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Check out my other blogs:
Bard and Brain
Photo.Graphic Thoughts
Taeng ni Ayat

BrainTeaser has a New Home

A dream come true for me: my own website... my self-hosted blog.

You are all invited to join me at the house warming of my very own blog: Bard and Brain over at Bilingual Pen.

See you there!

Check out my other blogs:
Photo.Graphic Thoughts
Taeng ni Ayat

Tell Me Your Song

I was not originally tagged to do it (I guess my friend Salve is tired of tagging me because I seldom do what I’ve been tagged to do, and on the only one occasion that I did a tag I even changed the rule and failed to tag someone else (rolling eye emoticon here). But, in fairness to ME, that was back when I still did not know I could get out of this little blog of mine and become friends with other bloggers (yeah, I was THAT slow). I thought, "who should I tag? I don't know of anyone who would play along!"

I guess I've changed because now, I can think of more than 10 friends who I can tag. I just don't know the rule as to how many I could tag, so I simply named two friends at the end.

Anyway, as I was saying, I wasn't asked to do this. I just stumbled upon it in one of Salve's friends' blog, which is also now my friend (yeah, I'm a friend grabber, hehehe). I loved the game so much, that I hinted at my new-found friend, Sonnet, that I want to do it. Mercifully, she got the not-so-subtle hint and she tagged me. (Wink emoticon here)

So here I am, doing a tagging game even if I was not asked, bullied, coerced, or forced to do it. But of course, like I usually do, I again broke some rules. But don't worry. I’ve been breaking some little rules for as long as I remember, and this one wouldn’t cause my banning in the blogosphere. I hope. (Another wink emoticon here.)

Here’s the rule: Answer the questions with song titles (your fave songs or songs that you like to play most of the time). No side comments please. Let the song titles explain your answer.

[The rule I broke: Not all the songs listed here my favorites. I researched some! Hehe! ]


1. How am I feeling today? Bluer than Blue by Regine Velasquez

2. Where/when will I get married? Quando, Quando, Quando by Engelbert Humperdinck

3. What is my best friend’s theme song? Wonderful World by Louis Armstrong and Breakaway by Kelly Clarkson

4. What is/was highschool like? Sana Maulit Muli by Regine Velasquez

5. What is the best thing about me? Honesty by Billy Joel

6. How is today going to be? Waiting by Mariah Carey

7. What is in store for this weekend? There’s a Kind of Hush by Karen Carpenter

8. What song describes my parents? Endless Love by Lionel Richie

9. How is my life going? Constant Change by Jose Mari Chan

10. What song will they play at my funeral? As I Lay Me Down To Sleep by Sophie B. Hawkins

11. How does the world see me? A Ray of Sunshine by George Michael

12. What do my friends really think of me? Wind Beneath my Wings by Bette Midler

13. Do people secretly lust after me? Maybe by Sheryn Regis

14. How can I make myself happy? The Voice Within by Christina Aguilera

15. What should I do with my life? Follow you Dream by Sheryn Regis

16. Will I ever have children? Little Girl by Christina Aguilera

17. What is some good advice? Tell Him by Celine Dion and Barbra Streisand

18. What does everyone else think of my current life? Isn’t it a Wonder? by Boyzone

19. What type of men/women do you like? Honesty by Billy Joel

20. Will you get married? I Do by 98 Degrees

21. Where will you live? The Town I Love so Well by Ronan Keating

22. What will your dying words be? Lift up your Hands to God by Gary Valenciano


Ok. I’m tagging Tam because she might think it’s fun and Salve because I know she's gonna do it! Hehehehehe!

_______________________________
Check out my other blogs:
Brainteaser
Photo.Graphic Thoughts
Taeng ni Ayat

Lamentation of the Dream Un-Winged

From a distance, Dream watched Man staring out his tiny window, a glass of liquor in his hand. Man was gazing unseeingly at the clouds almost completely concealing the rising moon, sadness hugging him tightly. The soft breeze was sighing, and the crickets were eerily quiet.

Dream’s heart went out to Man, despite himself. After all, they used to be inseparable, the best of friends. A tear threatened to fall down Dream’s cheeks, which he was quick to control. He was surprised to find that it was such an effort to fight off his tears.

“Ah, my friend,” Dream whispered through the air. “It saddens me to see that the bright light you once had has considerably dimmed. I would so much want to comfort you, if I could. But I need comforting, too. Because like you, I am also feeling wretched, for I failed to become what destiny designed me to be.”

Dream paused, feeling silly. He knew Man couldn’t hear him. But then, he thought he saw Man look in his direction, but maybe he didn’t.

After some time, Dream continued with his anguished whispering.

“I feel bad that you failed, because your failure is mine, too. But what can I do? I did everything to steer you in the right direction. I made myself your inspiration, your driving force. I always accompanied you in your youth; I used to sit by your side as you planned your moves back when you still thought that the future looked so bright. Wasn’t I the one who kept whispering in your ears to keep going whenever you were down? I held the torch for you every time you walked along dark alleys.

“We were such a team. We could have reached very far. Yes, I had no doubt about that, especially when you cloaked me with hope and armed yourself with potential. I thought we would soon take off. And I believe we would have made it, if only you didn’t back out at the last minute; if only you didn’t chain yourself and me to your fears.

“You should have let me spread my wings across the vast sky because I was meant to fly, to soar. I was meant to grow up and transform into reality. But you didn’t let me. Instead, you un-winged me. Look at me, look at me. Look and see how shattered I’ve become, with my wings now broken and useless." Then, losing his control, Dream let out his anguish, as rivers upon rivers of tears flowed down his cheeks.

In his tiny window, Man was pitying and cursing the weakling that he was, as sighs capped his frustration, and alcohol was drowning his mind.

Outside, there was still an eerie stillness. The wind was refusing to move, and the leaves were afraid to stir. The crickets had gone to sleep. The moon was still hidden behind the dark clouds, afraid to shine.

Then there was lightning, followed by a loud thunder. But Man was already too drunk to notice. He didn't know it was Dream howling.

[seb/20 June, 2008; 10:46pm]

Check out my other blogs:
Brainteaser
Photo.Graphic Thoughts
Taeng ni Ayat

Let’s Do a Van Gogh

After Picasso head, Mandy has again discovered another thing that is sure to be a hit in the blogosphere. It’s called bomomo.

Like Mr. Picasso Head, this also lets non-artists to unleash their hidden creativity using lines and colors. Now, folks who cannot even differentiate an oil painting from a watercolor, like me, can become “painters” in the almost-real sense of the word.

I am very excited about this ‘discovery’ because I see a vast potential in it. I can now ‘paint’ images for my poems. You see, there are times when I wish I have pictures that go well with my poems. I do have good pictures, and I use them. But there are just some poems that cannot be accompanied just by any picture. I think, this interactive site solves my problem. I can just make abstract ‘paintings’ and presto! My layout is already perfect.

And what’s more, it’s also fun. I’ve tried it and I couldn’t stop. Hah! I suggest you try it. Better yet, do it with your kids. I’m sure they’ll love it!

What are you waiting for? Click HERE and begin unleashing your pent-up creativity!

Have fun...

[PS: The pictures here are my very first abstract ‘paintings.’ Don’t ask me what they mean, though. ;-) ]

Again, you are welcome to post your creations here. (Please do!)Just use the code below.



Simply upload your creations, then copy the URL. Using the code above, put the URL of your painting at the URL section (red font) and type in the words you want to appear in your link at the green part of the code.

Bannawag Fever

Long time ago, when we were little kids, Bannawag was a mainstay at home. Dad used to buy Bannawag every week. He would read it first, followed by Mom. Then they would bring the magazine to Abinganan, and Amang would read it, then Inang, then aunts and uncles. It would be after all the elders had read it from cover to cover did it land on our hands.

But the Bannawag fever suddenly stopped sometime when we were already in college. In my case, it’s not because I lost interest in the magazine. The primary reason had been money. I was part-scholar, part self-supporting student; I didn’t have extra for luxury. And Bannawag then definitely fell under that category.

Then, when I graduated in college and found work and could already afford to buy copies of the magazine every week, it was hard to find stores that sold it. It was only late last year that a bookstore near my place started carrying Bannawag. But only lately did I start buying copies of the magazine almost regularly.

But now, I know I will be buying every week. I can no longer miss an issue. Nor do I want to. There are two things in the magazine that rekindled my love for it: Cles Rambaud’s Ti Bassit a Kumpay ni Patay and Jovi Amorin’s Bonete ti Kaibaan. These two are my and my Dungngo’s favorites.

The truth is, Bannawag played a big role why it had been easy for me and my Dungngo to quit iluko.com blogs. It became one of our latest pastimes. We now have a ritual, which is way more fulfilling for both of us. Every afternoon, I would read to him stories from the magaizne. Our favorite, of course, is Ti Bonete ti Kaibaan, but I also read to him short stories. At the end of every story, we would discuss the plot, whether we like it or not, whether we think it’s good or not, and so on. I also read to him poems and other stuff. In fact, I’ve been offering to read to him Harry Potter, but it may take a while before I’d convince him. Hehehee

Back to Bannawag. I wish you’ve seen the smile on my brothers’ faces when they saw Ti Bassit a Kumpay ni Patay. You see, it was our favorite when we were young. In fact, my brother, Mans, is now planning to subscribe to Bannawag. He was just too excited about Manong Cles’ latest komiks, not only because it had been among his favorites, but also because it’s drawn by Jun Lofamia, his favorite cartoonist. As a kid, he idolized Lofamia. I had thought that now that he is older and already an architect, he would no longer think that high about Lofamia’s art, but I was pleasantly surprised to find he still thinks he’s the best. “Just look at the facial expression of the characters in his drawings,” he would tell me. “Nabnabiag!”

Nabnabiag. I guess the same could be said about Bannawag, especially now that it’s got double great reads.

What do you think?

Picasso Your Head

There is some craze in my ‘little’ community in the bloggosphere about the interactive site, Mr. Picasso Head, where anyone, with or without any artistic inclination, can ‘draw’ his or his friends’ heads with easy-to-use tools.

When it was first posted by Mandy, everyone, me included, had lots of fun doing it. It became an instant craze. But I guess it was another blogger-friend, Michelle, who got the worst Picasso-head bug. She actually drew each of her blogger-friends! And oh, boy! She is so talented that most of her drawings are recognizable!

Michelle also ‘drew’ me and I love her Picasso version of me very much. I think she was looking at my avatar through eyes that highlight what’s beautiful in everyone when she was making my Picasso head (or perhaps all the time), that’s why I came out looking very beautiful in her drawing. I haven’t looked that beautiful in a long while. ;-)

Here is Michelle’s drawing of me:

Cool, isn’t it?

Come on folks, try it too and have loads of fun. It’s something you can do to pass the time, or to have fun with your little kids and even with friends and loved ones who are kids at heart!

And oh, do show me your drawings by giving the links at the comment section. Please....

Here's my very first attempt: http://www.mrpicassohead.com/canvas.html?id=ca5f7ff&skin=original

(PS: Moments after my post, my Buddy, VF, tried his hand at the Picasso Head and look, he's got some artistic talent, too! Wow! Here's one of his drawings of me:

I love his drawings so much. ;-) Now, I understand why he had been pestering me to wear ponytails this afternoon, hehehe!

(Don't you think I should be asking for my model's fee? Not that I modeled for him. But then, it's my beautiful face that's giving him inspiration, right?)

Here's another PS: If you're wondering how to create a link at the comments section, like I'm doing, please use this code:

Simply copy the code, put the URL of your picasso head drawing at the URL section (red font) and type in the words you want to appear in your link at the green part of the code.

Wisdom in Hot Chocolate

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Ever thought why contentment seems to elude man? When we get that which we’ve always wanted, we are happy and seemingly content for a while. But soon, we will find ourselves wanting something else. Our needs, our wants, just keep coming. We are never content.

I am sure you’ve heard that to live life to the fullest, we should concentrate only on the essentials. But how do we know which of the things we have, or want, are essential, and which aren’t, when we tend to measure life by the non-essentials that we have?

The following article which was sent to me via email this morning illustrates this point very well.

Wisdom in Hot Chocolate
(Author Unknown)

A group of graduates, well-established in their career, were talking at a reunion and decided to visit their old university professor, now retired.

During their visit, the conversation turned to complaints about stress in their work and lives.

Offering his guests hot chocolate, the professor went to the kitchen and returned with a large pot of hot chocolate and an assortment of cups — porcelain, glass, crystal, some plain-looking, some expensive, some exquisite — telling them to help themselves to the hot chocolate.

When they all had a cup of hot chocolate in hand, the professor said: “Notice that the nice-looking, expensive cups were taken, leaving behind the plain and cheap ones. While it is normal for you to want only the best for yourselves, that is the source of your problems and stress. The cup you’re drinking from adds nothing to the quality of the hot chocolate. In most cases, it is just more expensive, and in some cases, even hides what we drink.

“What all of you really wanted was hot chocolate, not the cup. But you consciously went for the best cups. And then, you began eyeing each other’s cups. Now, consider this: Life is the hot chocolate; your money, job, position in society are the cups. They are just the tools to hold and contain life. The cup you have does not define nor change the quality of life you have. Sometimes, by concentrating only on the cup, we fail to enjoy the hot chocolate God has provided us. God made the hot chocolate; man chooses the cup. The happiest of people do not have everything. They make the best of everything they have.”



So, how’s your hot chocolate? How many of us can say, “it’s very good” and truly mean it?
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BrainTeaser

It's been a while since I posted a puzzle. So I thought of re-posting this puzzle I made for my other blog. I hope you like it.

HERE WE GO:

I am looking for a two-word phrase that consists of eleven letters (first word, five letters; second word, six letters). What is this phrase?

Step 1: Finding the letters:

1. The 19th letter of the English alphabet = __
2. The 4th letter in the first name of the current USA president = __
3. The first vowel of the four-letter word that completes this expression: _____ of passage = __
4. The last letter of the word that completes this biblical phrase: Alpha and ______ =
5. The first letter of the word that refers to singers, painters, writers, and sculptors = __
6. The first letter of the five-letter word that means iconic image or symbol = __
7. The letter that is common to the first, sixth, and eleventh months of the year = __
8. The chemical symbol of the number five element in the periodic table = __
9. The first letter in the six-letter English word that contains no vowel = __
10. The most used vowel in English = __
11. First letter in the title of the Shakespearian play whose main characters are Katherine, Bianca and Petrucio = __
The eleven letters are: ______________________.

Congratulations. You are done with the first step. Now, onto the second.


Step 2: Word Play/Arranging the Letters

First clue: From the eleven-letter, two-word phrase I am looking for, the following words can be formed:

• (From the first word) The four-letter word that means “drops of fresh water that fall as precipitation from clouds”
• (From the second word) The four-letter word that refers to the opposite of “difficulty”

Put first four-letter word here: ______
Put second four-letter word here: ______

Try to guess the phrase. If you still cannot, see the next clues.

Second clue: From the eleven-letter, two-word phrase I am looking for, you could form the word that refers to “that thing you use when you want to remove pencil marks” by inserting the second letter of the first word between the second letter and the third letter of the second word.


Final clue: Verse play

Oh, am I not exciting, and I not fun?
The old love me, so do the young.
The logical and those with clever mind
They seek me, they think I’m fun.
Solve me, find my pieces, watch my trails
I leave clues, I give hints. Come on, think.
Tell me, tell me, what’s my name?

The phrase I am looking for is? _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _


Extra question: At what stage were you able to solve the puzzle/riddle?

You may answer here, or in my OTHER BLOG where it was originally posted.



//Sherma E. Benosa; 29 May 2008

Mining Issue in NV

Would you dare destroy such splendor of Mother Nature?
Photo taken at Abinganan, Bambang, Nueva Vizcaya

As a Novo Vizcayano, I may already be a bit too late in speaking up about the mining issue in our province. This is because I don’t know much about the technicalities involved, and I'd rather keep quiet than speak up about something I do not wholly understand. But I have been following the developments of the mining project, and I am not very happy with how things are turning out.

As a backgrounder, our inconspicuous province has been thrown into the limelight during the past few months because of the Kasibu residents’ continuous resistance against Oceana Gold, the Australian firm who has out-bidded other mining companies to mine Dipidio, Kasibu, Nueva Vizcaya for gold and copper. The Dipidio project is a 320 million US dollar project, and is described by Oceana CEO Steve Orr as "one of the highest grade gold-copper porphyries in the world today,” according to a news report by Yahoo News Asia. Kasibu is located east of Bambang (my hometown), and about 200 kilometers north of Metro Manila.

The Philippine government has given the Australian group the go signal to proceed with the project, but the local government and the Kasibu residents are still barricading the site for different reasons. The local government wants to collect taxes, whereas the residents do not want the work to ever proceed, not only because they will be displaced, but more so because they fear that the project would destroy the province’s natural resources.

I am not one who cares much about gold; I do care more about the preservation of our natural resources. So personally, I do not want the work to proceed.

Many of you may not agree with me, but that’s how I feel about the issue. Nueva Vizcaya is not much of a tourist spot because it’s not well-promoted, but it boasts of a beautiful landscape that only the hand of nature could paint. A land-locked province, it boasts of clear springs, green surroundings, winding rivers, mountains and hills and valleys, rice fields and a cave system. It is the place a weary soul would want to go home to, to get in touched with nature, and to be closer to God.

It is the place I go home to.

No, I would not want to exchange the beauty of my hometown to any amount of gold.

Truth vs. Deceit: A Tale

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Deeply confused and utterly sad, Truth decided to consult with the Lord.

“Lord," he said in a barely audible voice. "I am confused. You said that I am beautiful, but why is it that when I present myself to people, they would not look at me directly, and would rather look the other way? You said I am good, but why can’t I help hurting people? You said that Deceit is evil, but why is he capable of making people feel better, even if there are times he hurt them as well? You said Deceit is ugly, but why do people stare at him with so much awe?”

The Lord smiled sympathetically. He walked over to Truth, and held him by his shoulders. “My child," He said softly, looking deeply into Truth's troubled eyes. "Do not despair. You are beautiful and pure. You shine so brightly, people cannot bear to look at you directly. They either put a veil over their eyes to see you, or use a mirror to get a glimpse of you, not realizing that though these instruments aid them, they blur you, hence they don’t see you in your full splendor.

“You are good; you do not really hurt people, you just crush their egos. Indeed, Deceit is ugly, but don’t forget that he is a master of disguise. He can change his black cloak into a rainbow, so that those who have not seen your grandeur are amazed at how lovely he seems, and they stare at him with great admiration.

“He is evil, because by not showing his real self to people, he dims you. But do not fret, my child. There are those who are brave enough who choose to look at you directly, without any veil, without the need for mirrors. They see you, and they love you. And to them, your beauty is beyond compare." The Lord patted Truth in the back. "Go forth my child, for you are loved.”

Feeling better, Truth thanked the Lord then walked happily back to his world, where he shone and shone brightly, giving light to the whole world. He’s still there, standing magnificently for all of us to see. Sometimes we see him, sometimes we don’t.

Often, we profess our love for him. But... do we really?


//Sherma E. Benosa
19 May 2008; 11:40am

Hymn Within Me

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There is a hymn inside my heart that begs to be sung,
Waiting for my wobbly fingers to strum
The strings of my soul’s discordant melody.

But my lips refuse to sing the notes
That would pull my soul out of the void;
For though it badly needs to hear the music
It fears the thundering boom of the drums.

So I sit around, hoping for someone to play a song
All the while knowing it’s got to be me;
I wait here, daydreaming for a concerto
All the while knowing my ears have become deaf
To the music of the life around me.

Tell me, how can I sing my heart’s tune
Without first fixing the pitch of my thoughts?
I’ve forgotten my lines, I can’t relate to the melody;
Sing to me, sing to me so that I may remember
That there is a hymn that begs to be sung within me.


//Sherma E. Benosa
18 May 2008; 5:46pm
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Kuliapis nga Ay-ay

It's been a while since I last posted an Ilokano (my mother tongue) piece here. Allow me please.





Makasiram ti apuy a sumgiab iti kaunggan ni ngata-ngata
Ket puoranna ti simbeng ti panagdaliasat ti agduadua a kararua
Dagiti agkatangkatang a dapan nga inulila ti nailibay a darepdep
Nga indaramudom ti kasipngetan, inadipen nagkaadu a derrep.

‘Di madaeran kuyep a mata ti makipinnerreng iti masakbayan
A tagtagibien aliaw impasngay kalman a di man la nagbalasang
Iduduayyan’ pilay nga agdama a nagpanawan narasi a namnama
Ilallallay saning-i ti dung-aw dagiti umar-arubayan nga aligaga.

Madaeranto ngata ti kired ni Elpis ti bang-i ti espiritu ni Moros
A nangkaras ubbog ni talinaay, nangruros sabong ti kurkuros
Idinto nga agsung-aben dagiti kalman a ramut a baglan ni puot
A dalanen koma dagiti sagibsib ngem inalun-on metten ni pungtot?

Uray la agallangogan dagiti sennay ti nakas-ang a pannakapaay
Ngem saan met a sumngaw dagiti boses ti kuliapis nga ay-ay.


Check out other version HERE. Or, read my other ATTEMPTS at poetry HERE.

//Sherma E. Benosa
09 May 2008; 10:15pm

Only When

Dreams. They are the fruits we envision the plants we sow would bear. But many of us dream without planting a seed. Some of us do, but we fail to water our plants, to fertilize them. So our plants die. And when they do, we wonder what happened to them, to our dreams. We blame everything. We blame the sun, we blame the rains, we blame the insects, yet we forget to blame ourselves.

//Sherma E. Benosa
09 May 2008; 10:10am

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ANNOUNCEMENT: I have opened a photo-blog over at wordpress.com. Unlike my other blogs, this latest baby of mine contains photos. BUt unlike ordinary photo-blogs, the photos posted here contain my thoughts and reflections. Check it out: PhotoGraphic Thoughts.

Dark Thoughts

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I was having lunch today when someone just dropped off his things (a bagful of sugar) near the door of the diner where I was eating, then went back out to the street, about five meters away from where he left his things, and talked animatedly to someone. I’m a regular at this diner, and I haven’t seen him before, so for some reason, a troubling thought hit me: “what if his stuff contained a bomb?”

The logical part of me thought it couldn’t be, because it just isn’t normal for a criminal to stay close to the bomb when he has every opportunity to leave. But then the other part of me pointed out that there are a lot of suicide bombers, and he could be one. There were other arguments that volleyed back and forth in my mind, that soon I saw blood — my blood — splattered everywhere, my body parts flying as far as the other side of the road, my face unrecognizable. Before that I heard a big explosion followed by loud screams, then I saw blackness, and then there was nothing.

I couldn’t say know how much time had elapsed before I started hearing voices, at first indistinct, until slowly I was able to understand some words.

“Did you see her? She was just here before the bomb went off!”

“Really?”

“Yeah, she was eating alone. And now, she’s nothing. Just a finger left!”

“Ow, poor girl!”

At first I did not understand what they were talking about, until I realized what it was. They were talking about me!

Abruptly I stopped eating and handed the server a hundred-peso bill.

“Oh, you’re done? You almost had not touched your food! Didn’t you like it?” The elderly woman who had become a friend of sort, asked as she reached for the bill.

“It’s fine, Manang. I’m just full.” I replied.

“Okay,” she said and walked back in to get some change. As I was waiting for her, the man came back for his things. Without a word, he picked them up then walked off. I started to relax. But it was too late. My imagination had gone too far, and my appetite had been lost.

Ah, darn imagination! Damn dark thoughts!

Winged

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When we give our souls some wings, they will surely soar, up above the clouds, to the stars, to the heavens, and to dimensions beyond the reach of time. My soul is here, with me, yet it is really gone. It's somewhere beyond the depths of the deepest sea, above the highest mountain, in a plane indefinable by me.

//Sherma E. Benosa
08 May 2008; 2:25pm

Sibling Bonding

For a Metro Manilan who is always swimming deprived, Laguna (particularly, Pansol) is such a blessing. This place has countless hot springs and resorts, you can literally walk from one resort to another.

For sometime now, my ex-officemates (over at FAME) and I had been so in love with the place that that's where we always want to go whenever we want to de-stress.

Last weekend, my brothers Ogie and Ryan and I decided to go and spend the day there. Ah, it was so much fun! We enjoyed it a lot, even if we were not prepared and we only had jolibee for lunch and some chichirias for snacks.

Let me share some of our pictures and a clip of our video.

Mga Feeling Model

Look Who's the Star!

Sick and Twisted

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There’s something that’s gravely ailing the world today. And it’s not global warming. It’s our hearts turning cold and unfeeling.


The culprits probably thought it was a good joke, so they took video footage of it and uploaded it in the internet. After all, it’s not often that one would “be lucky” enough to witness an operation to get a perfume canister out of a poor fellow’s anus. But right now, I can hear the “lucky” fellows’ jeers turned into sobs, and see their jeering faces ‘sorrily’ contorted as they scamper away for cover.

I am talking about the scandal at a Visayan hospital where a team of doctors and nurses and (a) nursing student(s) took photo and video footages of an operation done on a male patient who had a perfume canister stuck on his anus during a sexual act. The video footage was then said to be uploaded in youtube for all the world to see (the video has since been removed from the file sharing site after the scandal broke out). But according to bloggers who have seen the video and to some news report, the video showed several people in the operating room jeering as the perfume canister was being removed, making disrespectful comments, calling the canister “baby,” and spraying perfume after the canister was removed. All these while the patient was lying helpless and unconscious.

Before this offensive event, I was of the opinion that there are two kinds of fun: clean and dirty. But apparently I’m wrong. There’s a third one: sick.

I think it’s sick that some people could get a kick from other people’s grave embarrassment. I think it’s sick that some people could actually laugh at other people’s pain. I think it’s sick that the people we turn to for help would extend their right hand to assist us, only to stab us with their left. I think it’s sick that professionals would act in an unprofessional way in times of crisis. I think it’s sick that we would choose to add insult to the injury when we could opt to ease the pain. Ah, yes, the world we live in can sometimes be so sick. (Or shall I say, we can sometimes be so sick.)


Condemn him not

It’s true, it’s unhealthy to use sex toys during sexual intercourse; but if others decide to use them, to engage in different kind of sex, who are we to condemn them? It is their business as it is their lives. It is not for us to judge them. But reading some blog posts, I realized that some folks put the blame on the poor victim, their reasoning being, “things would not have happened if he did not engage in “abnormal” sexual behavior, if he weren’t gay.

That got me a little lost, because the issue, in my humble opinion, is not the victim’s sexual preference, nor is it his sexual behavior. The issue is that the medical professionals involved violated his rights as a patient, as a person.

He went to the doctors to seek help, but what did he get? Sure, the doctors relieved him of the proof of his physical ‘rape,’ but they raped his soul in return, inflicting upon him a kind of pain that no medicine could relieve nor cure; no expert could surgically remove.

And then, as he prepares to seek justice, someone from the Catholic Church comes forward to condemn him. That, I think, is hypocricy to the highest level. The last thing the victim needs and deserves is for us to be moralistic about it, to play self-righteous and pass judgment upon him. His rights, his person had been gravely violated, and the least thing we can do is to help him stand as he struggles to carry the cross that was suddenly put on his shoulders, and not to whip his back as the Judeans would.


Going back to the basics

I will no longer talk about malpractice, about how legally liable the people involved in the scandal are. News reports and many blog posts about the issue have tackled them. I’d rather focus on the basics of human relationships.

The culprits did not just break the code of their professions’ ethics; they broke the very basic code of social ethics: RESPECT. One need not have a medical degree to know if what he or she is about to do is right or wrong. I do not see any excuse why the people involved in the scandal could not have realized that jeering at their patient and taking footages of the operation and then uploading them in the internet was a grave violation. All they needed to have done was put themselves in the patient’s shoe and they would have known what was proper and what was not.
As a proverb, the commandment, “Do not do unto others what you do not want others do unto you” is now trite. And as a code of conduct, it is very basic. But somehow, it is sorely ‘underpracticed.’ To think that practicing it could reduce a lot of wrongs. Ah, humans…



Justice

It would be a long, unpaved road, I know. But I guess the only way the victim would heal is by getting the justice that he deserves. I think he must walk the long and hard road to justice, not just to right what is wrong, but also to set example to other offenders and victims.

I would not be sorry to see the licenses of those involved in the scandal revoked, for though it’s true that we have a dearth of healthcare professionals in the country, we are not so desperate so as to allow these vacancies be filled by abusive folks who might just put our medical system in (more) jeopardy.

Because if justice in this case is not achieved, it will surely hurt our bid for a slice in the medical tourism, for we will not just become known as the country where horrible things such as this could happen, but a country that tolerated such things. God forbid!



Some relevant thoughts

As an ex-medical journalist, I’ve written and read a lot of medical articles, a good number of them dealt with male sexual dysfunction.

According to the literature I’ve read, and to some of the doctors I’ve interviewed, many forms of sexual dysfunction can be treated and managed if only the sufferers would seek treatment. But very few men would actually dare talk to their doctors about their problems. It is hypothesized that it may be a natural tendency for the male to never admit to his sexual incapacities because his sexuality is him, to admit sexual problem is to admit to the world that he is less of a person.

In a way, that hypothesis might be right. But I think that there is also another thing that keeps the male population from talking to their doctors about their sexual problems: the fear, rightly or wrongly, that their doctor might jeer at them at their back. I think — or shall I say, I used to think — that that is very remote, given that doctors have heard a lot of stories about this problem, as sexual dysfunction is becoming very common, especially among the elderly.

But now I am thinking that maybe it’s not so remote after all.


//Sherma E. Benosa
27 April 2008; 10:50pm
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40th GUMIL Convention Pics

Finally, I was able to attend a GUMIL Convention (GUMIL means Gunglo Dagiti Mannurat nga Ilokano or Association of Ilokano Writers).

I’ve always wanted to attend a convention of the said organization, but it’s only now that I finally managed to. Though I was able to get a peek of the three-day 36th GUMIL Convention in 2004 when I accompanied Dad to the location, I did not register at the time because I couldn’t get a vacation from work. And now, after all these years, I finally did it. (That’s one of the pluses of being a freelance writer; I can always declare a vacation whenever I want to.) What’s more, even Mom joined Dad and me, and that made things even better.

I did not get a lot of photos though, because I was not feeling well at the time. I regret not having lots of pictures now, especially when I realized I had very little pictures of the event. Sayang really. But never mind. Let me just share the pictures that I have.

Contents of this slide show may also be viewed as still pictures at my wordress blog: http://brainteaser.wordpress.com/gumil-1/

An Open Letter to Humanity

We often wonder about the why’s of life, especially when we are in the middle of a tribulation, whether or not it is of our own doing. We wonder why we have to go through things, why we must suffer, why life sometimes must be bleak, why things we think we can do better without happen.

I’ve asked the same questions, too. And below are the answers I’ve come up with. I hope they make sense.

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[Text and image design, concept and layout by SEB]


//Sherma E. Benosa
29 December 2007; 11:10am
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Humanity vs Opportunity: A Short Tale

Opportunity and Humanity faced each other at the Chieftain Hall. This was to resolve Humanity’s complaint against Opportunity. Humanity claimed that Opportunity was not doing his job, which was to regularly present himself to Humanity and his people, and give them all the chances in life that they deserved.

After proper introductions were made, the chieftain asked the gentlemen to take a seat. Humanity took the chair on the left of the chieftain’s desk; Opportunity took the one on the right. When both gentlemen were seated, the chieftain asked Humanity to speak to formally lodge his complaint.

“Well, Sir,” Humanity looked at the chieftain, then glanced at Opportunity. “Mr. Opportunity here has not been doing his job. My people and I have been encountering all sorts of troubles because of him. His negligence has been hindering us from realizing our full potentials. We’ve been complaining about this for a long time, and we had been reduced to repeatedly begging him to come to us, but he just wouldn’t.”

The chieftain nodded his understanding of Humanity’s predicament. He signaled Opportunity to defend himself.

Opportunity cleared his throat. “I am sorry that Mr. Humanity and his people have been encountering problems, Mr. Chieftain, but I beg to disagree that it is because of my failure to perform my duty. The truth is that I keep knocking at their door but they don’t always open their doors for me. There are times that they would, but they often hesitate to let me in. It takes them a long time to decide whether or not to invite me, that by the time they’d made up their mind, it’s time for me to leave for someone else’s house. So…”

“But how do we know it’s indeed you who’s on the door?” Humanity interjected. “You show up looking differently each time. You just love disguises. How can we be sure it’s indeed you and not a prankster who’s at our door, when many times you’d come in the company of those shady creatures, Deception and Betrayal?”

Opportunity calmly replied, “There are no disguises, Mr. Humanity. I always come to you looking the same way I always do. And I don’t come with Deception and Betrayal. You always see them whenever you open your door because they live in your neighborhood. And knowing that they always spell trouble, I try not to stop them from accompanying me to your house, as long as they don’t hurt me, or interfere with me. It’s your family members Fear and Distrust that often lodge themselves between you and me, so that you won’t see me clearly.”

Humanity looked blankly at Opportunity, not having a ready and acceptable retort. He was afraid of incriminating members of his family if he’d speak further. The truth is that he would always ask Fear and Distrust to accompany him whenever he would open his door, fearing that Deception and Betrayal would hurt him if they’d see that he was alone and vulnerable.

Having heard both sides, the chieftain instructed Humanity to resolve the matter within his household, especially the problem with Fear and Distrust. He concluded that only when this matter is resolved will they see more of Opportunity. Until then, they will always have a hard time recognizing Opportunity when he knocks on their door, and continue not being able to seize the chances that Opportunity always brings.

Apparently, the matter with Fear and Distrust was a deep-rooted problem with Humanity and his people. They always felt vulnerable without Fear and Distrust by their side, that to this day, his people still keep blaming Opportunity for their circumstances, claiming that he wasn’t doing his job, when the truth is that they just fail to see Opportunity when he shows up, or, if they do, Fear and Distrust would stop them from seizing the chances Opportunity was giving them.

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Inspired by a piece I wrote in 2005, entitled Knocking on Your Door. Click here to read it. This is my take on the question on whether or not there are not many opportunities around.

This morning, I have written a children’s story based from this story. I hope it will be good enough for publication in a children’s book. I’m crossing my fingers! :-)

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//Sherma E. Benosa
11 February 2008