Pilar, Capiz

Remembering Erwin

April 2, 2007 · Leave a Comment

Not to accept gifts that I could not afford to buy or I myself could not give to the giver in return is one of the many personal rules I have. I am also very picky as to the persons I ask favor from, or as to the favors I ask from them.

I have these rules because I do not take advantage nor I want to give the impression that I take advantage of the pople close to me.

In Law School, I have grown close to people who have survived the kind of life I think I never would survive if I were in their place.

Take for example Erwin. Erwin is around thirty three years old. He is from Leyte. He told me when they were young, they roam the forest to collect fallen coconuts as well as coconut shells for firewood. He and his brothers sell them to buy food.

I forgot to ask about his high school days.

After high school, he learned that a friend was “adopted” by a nun and was sent to school. Erwin also looked for a nun who would adopt him and could send him to school.

His search brought him to Roxas City, Capiz at St. Mary’s Academy. There he served as a school boy mopping, sweeping and cleaning classrooms, halls and yards. He took up Commerce at a nearby College (Colegio de la Purisima Conception).

After graduation, he applied and was employed by the Rex Bookstore. He moved to Iloilo.

Rex Bookstore sells mostly law books. He served as a law book agent visiting law schools and professors promoting the books.

He came to know Judge Roger Patricio of the Regional Trial Court in Iloilo City. I forgot if by this time, Erwin had decided to take up law already or it was the Judge who encouraged him.

Judge Patricio is an intelligent and diligent man. Like Erwin. He also sent himself to school, law school, etc. In short, Judge Patricio is also a self made man.

Judge Patricio became our Remedial Law Review teacher. Mostly, it was because of him that I wasn’t afraid, as most of the bar examinees are, of the Remedial Law subject.

Erwin and I met at the University of Iloilo College of Law. It was there I came to learn a little of his story.

I never failed to tell him I admire his perseverance and intelligence. (Although he had difficulty expressing himself, he vividly recalled jurisprudence, and legal principles we studied years before). I also told him that if I were in his place I would never survive. His response surprised me. He said, of course I will because man is a survivor.

When we were in Law School, I did not ask anything from this man but his company. We were not yet lawyers but for me he was already a self made man. “Passing the bar will be my crowning glory. It will erase the pain brought by the hardships I enjured,” he remarked.

It takes vision and perseverance for a man who grew up in an environmnet like his to at least pursue higher education. Most of them give up, submit to fate and continue to toil in poverty without any hope of one day lifting themselves up.

Inspiration is the gift Erwin has given me, albeit unknowingly. Maybe he wondered why I always loved to be with his company. (I visited him at Rex Bookstore in Iloilo and have lunch with him, the drivers, collectors and the security guards who were all his friends). I was also able to visit Boracay Island for the first time once because of Erwin. (My girlfriend, who used to be my ex, was having a seminar in Boracay. I thought it was a great place to win her love back. But I had no money poor as I am. I confided to Erwin. Timing, they were going to deliver books and collect payments in Boracay. I only had to pay for my boat ride to the Island.)

I meditated about what I have given him, both knowingly and unknowingly, in return.

Honestly, I could not think of any.

P.S.

Erwin is still alive working with Rex Bookstore in Leyte. He resigned from Rex Bookstore Iloilo to prepare for the 2006 bar exams.

Categories: random

Christian Bautista

March 30, 2007 · 3 Comments

I have transferred this piece here.

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Testimonials

March 29, 2007 · 3 Comments

Among the many features Friendster has, my favorite is the one that allows friends to receive and submit testimonials.

I may joke in some I myself wrote for but I never lie. As to the testimonials friends submit, all in all, I only have three requirements. When praising me for example, friends have to be sincere and honest, the first two requirements. And the third requirement comes in, when instead of praising me, a friend chooses to criticize. For that criticism to be approved, it has to be done with good intentions.

Because I look for sincerity and honesty, I reject testimonials in the form of pictures, movies, and combination of words, like mine, depleted of its resources.

Because of testimonials, for example, I learned that I am a brother a cousin never had. I am admired by a friend because I could write a poem “before the smallest Pepsi bottle gets emptied”, never mind the rest of his praises. As a boyfriend, I “rock” though I always knew I am a pain to my girlfriend so, she telling the whole Friendster world that I cause her heartache after heartache is not new to me. I am not even surprised much more moved. But I do repent.

There is a lawyer, who used to be my school mate, who thinks I am h_nds_me. I am not surprised too because I have long ago been convinced by mother. What I like about that Lawyer’s testimonial however is, she recognized the warmth and the goodwill I have towards my friends, and my passion for words, etc.

There is however a testimonial a friend wrote for me that did not pass the sincerity and honesty tests yet is still found in my testimonial lists. Listen to this: “who doesn’t know him (me) in the good ol’ Maskom? He is as passionate as a 50 year-old virgin with the brains of Aristotle, Einstein, and Edgar Allan Poe combined.”

The first sentence is ok. The rest? Lies. If i have “the brains of Aristotle, Einstein, and Edgar Allan Poe combined”, I should at least have written our undergraduate thesis. Instead, it was the person who submitted that testimonial who wrote our thesis for both of us.

And to be compared to a passionate 50 year-old virgin is not very accurate to say the least.

So, why is it there anyway?

Indeed.

Why do you think?

It is there because it passed the “pure intentions” test. It would be stupid for me to think that I am praised when I am being compared with people like Aristotle, Einstein and Edgar Allan Poe given the above mentioned precedent. In fact, I am being mocked!

It is sad that from time to time, Friendster’s system malfunctions erasing some if not all testimonials. I have written a testimonial for a friend, Anne, for example. I like that testimonial so much because I was able to invent figures of speech for that piece alone. Friendster system failed erasing my testimonial for her. And I have no copy of that.

Then one time, I visited my Friendster account and when I looked at my testimonial pages, about three or four pieces were missing.

Of course, I was in panic! Given her hectic schedule, it is not easy for a lawyer to write another testi for me. I could not ask my girlfriend to rewrite a testi she wrote for almost a week, and so on.

Fortunately, when I visted the next day, the prodigal testimonials were home again.

But I no longer trusts Friendster to keep my friends’ testi for me and vice versa. I saved a copy of the new ones I wrote, those I still can retrieve, and those written for me.

Here are some of the testimonials I wrote for friends:

For Mark       For Zenith       For Sam    For Don      For Carlo       

For Coco         For Jan

Would you like to read the testimonials my friends wrote for me? Please click here.

Categories: art

First Days in Law School

March 22, 2007 · 13 Comments

iznart

Iznart Street at the left and Rizal Street in front of the Central Market which is directly accross the street from the entrance to the UI College of Law. Photograph by JP Anthony D. Cunada

Across the street, from one of the biggest and busiest wet markets in Iloilo City, at the corner of Iznart and Rizal Streets, is the University of Iloilo College of Law building. It is four stories high. One can stand on the top floor and see the long yet straight Iznart Street. Ledesma Street connects at the left and J.M. Basa Street connects right across, at the right of Iznart, a block away.

That part of the City is called Plazoleta Gay (Plazo-leta-guy) where all public utility jeepneys that ply all the routes in and out of Iloilo City pass by.

Farther down from Plazo, the tip of the new and the old Iloilo Capitol buildings, and that of a hotel could be seen.

A block away from UI, at the left of Iznart Street, across the Central Market, is the Iloilo Grand Hotel. A block away farther to the left is the Robinson’s Mall and next to it is the Super Market.

Super Market. Not the Shoe Mart of Mr. Sy.

The Super Market does not almost sleep. This is the main supply depot of all agricultural produce from the different towns and provinces. Truck loads of agricultural produce arrive at Super Market when the City is almost asleep. It is equivalent to Quiapo or Divisoria of Manila.

As to the Central Market across the University, it is known for the Military, Rotc, Police, etc., gears most of the stalls across the University sell. And as far as suitors are concerned, the flower shops at the entrance of the Market at the corner of Iznart and Rizal Streets, right across the College of Law building. If a rose costs 80 pesos in malls, the same kind of rose costs only about 20 pesos in the flower huts there.

Farther down at the right side of Iznart Street, beside the Central Market is Calle Real, where Jose Rizal is said to have walked during one of his travels when the ship he was boarding stopped-over in Iloilo. I do not want to do an Ambeth Ocampo to verify this story and another story that Calle Real was the first Hong Kong in a sense that vendors laid down and sell their goods on Calle Real even before Hong Kong became famous for the same. For now, let us consider the stories as grapevine.

University of Iloilo has its back at the sea. Across the sea is one mountainous end of the Guimaras Island, where from on top, a white cross could be seen. Pilgrims sacrifice by climbing that mountain to participate in the reenactment of the Crucifixion during the Holy Week. Their sacrifice they trade with God for their wishes.

The University of Iloilo occupies a block equivalent to two blocks (divided by Guanco Street which connects JM Basa and Rizal Streets) across Rizal Street. Next to Central Market across Guanco Street is Gaisano, the first and oldest mall in Iloilo City. Few blocks farther to the right, in line with UI, is the Sta. Maria School. Across the school, in line with Gaisano, is the Social Security System’s office. Still farther is the port of Iloilo. Few blocks at the opposite side across Sta. Maria is the port to and from Guimaras Island.

The University of Iloilo has two gates. The main gate and the one in front of the College of Law. Right next to the gate at the College, on the right, is the chapel where mass is held on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays at 4 pm. On the left is a bench under the stairs leading to the mezzanine.

At first, one is scared to navigate the narrow and sometimes dark alley at the side of the Dean’s Office across the Sacristy at the side of the chapel facing the gate. This alley turns to the right and to the left and exits at the front of the Administration building lined with benches. In front of the Administration building, next to the benches and separated by a fence, is the mini volleyball court, also known as the extra parking lot, in front of the stage where graduation and other important ceremonies are held.

Students, especially those who park their cars inside the campus, choose to suppress their claustrophobia than exit the main gate, walk by Rizal Street to the Law building to reach the Dean’s Office, or the Library next to it, or the stairs leading to the classrooms and vice versa.

The University of Iloilo was founded by the Lopez brothers, Eugenio and Fernando Lopez, as the Iloilo City Colleges in June 1947. On December 17, 1968, the Iloilo City Colleges was granted the University status and thus it became the 32nd university in the Philippines. (http://www.ui.edu.ph/history/page2.html). Sometime after that, the College of Law was established.

The College is one of the three colleges in Iloilo City that offers the Bachelors of Law degree. It adheres to the policy of giving every one a chance to become a lawyer. Such policy is carried out to the letter and extends to those who are expelled by other law schools but seek to continue studies in the University of Iloilo College of Law.

I had a lot of friends who were pursuing their law degree at the University of Iloilo Colege of Law, prior to my enrollment five years ago. One of them was the editor-in-chief of my pre-law University (West Visayas State University) paper. Another was my town mate and a fellow Pian (a graduate of St. Pius X Seminary in Roxas City) who was now a lawyer. They claimed that the University of Iloilo College of Law is one tough school for the hard knocks because the school does not have a dress code and it has a special place, Section C, located at the side of the Law building next to the chapel. Furthermore, not only that most of the practicing lawyers in the island of Panay are UI graduates, also UI has a graduate who is among the top five in the bar examinations of his batch, long ago.

Not only could I wear my favorite shirts, if I study in UICL, I could also have a drink at Section C without much hassle. I exit the gate, turn left. About two meters away, another left at the corner and in 50 feet, I can have a bottle or two of beer.

iznart2

Iznart Street from fourth floor through the hole for the Colleges' signage. Photograph by JP Anthony D. Cunada

My favorite shirts refer to a collection of faded shirts my mother would like to use to wipe the tables, chairs and the floor. I did not let go of them because they came from my brother who worked as a manager of a food chain and he wore them during high school. And for some reasons they were more comfortable to wear.

Section C is a series of stalls beside the law building where people can buy break fast, luch, dinner, batchoy, lomi, binakol, miswa, peanuts, junk foods, cigarettes and drinks in the lowest and unimaginable price. Before (5:30) and after (8:30) classes, law professors are there either having snacks, conversations or drinks. There are some students who are absent in class but are present in Section C and vice versa. The same with the professors.

Some suspected they acquired their hepatitis virus or their typhoid bacteria from Section C. Although they were listened to, fewer than few believed them.

The intelligent, and those who believed they were, engaged the professors and fellow students alike in discussions. What the professors found hard to explain in English inside the classrooms, the professors found easier to explain with the help of San Miguel and the inspiration of beautiful and drunk students in Section C. Same with the students.

Section C is a part of the College as much as the classrooms. There are lawyers who would even suggest all classes be held in Section C than in classrooms. They were able to answer bar questions and pass the bar exams, regardless of the number of takes, because of Section C rather than the classrooms.

Unaware yet of these details, my first days in law school were boring.

I would go to school early for the five-thirty class, watch my fellow strangers: the boys silently calculating women’s figure, and the girls eyeing the cutest guy, as we waited for the professors that did not arrive.

When the professors did arrive, they collected class cards. Some would ask the class to introduce himself/herself and explain why law school. Others reminisced their terror professors, how they were shouted at for not answering or reciting an article and asked to go home in the province to plant kamote.

Another would recall how he almost landed in the top ten of the successful bar examinees of his batch had it not for his grades in Remedial and Commercial Law subjects. “If I can only turn back the time,” he would sigh.

The young one’s would assure students that as long as we study, every thing will be ok. And of course, the famous line:  Law is a jealous mistress, and therefore the legal one will soon be discarded in her favor, would not be forgotten.

The first year students soon lose weights, especially those who were persistently late, since they had to run. If not for the new pressures of law school, at least for the four stories they had to climb every afternoon, to reach their classrooms. If they chose however, they could dream about an elevator and ride in one. The only problem was, they would never reach any floors.

The following years, we learned when the school announces classes start on this week, we let that week pass and wait for the next Monday before finally reporting to class. Out of the sixteen-hour weekly schedule, only about two or three hours of that where the professors are present. To obtain a two or three hour absence during the first week isn’t a hard decision to make.

Soon, when the rainy season arrived and the news told of a flooding river at the opposite side of the City in Jaro, we also did not go to school. Or those who are already in school visit the malls or Section C and the likes. In consideration of the students who lived in Jaro and those who passed by the same to go to and from school, the Law School observed an unofficial holiday. That river in Jaro has two bridges serving as one of the three ingresses and egresses of the City.

There was really no compulsion from most teachers to read and study. During exams, a professor adopted the “cheat and let us see who will not pass the bar” policy. He left the classrooms after distributing the questionnaires.

Class recitations revealed the best and worst of students. There were women who dress like super models but deliver ideas like never mind, if at all they had something to deliver. There were also those who dressed like beggars but talked and argued like the present Secretary of State of the United States of America.

Seldom can one find both qualities in a woman not just in the College.

There, the honor students are cheered like heroes. Because, like heroes, they are very few. Some might have been killed along the way.

However, I liked this environment because it forced one to search inside his heart the purpose of enrolling in the Law School. Am I here to waste my time, or am I here to become a lawyer?

Those who wasted their time and those who did not know they wasted their time survived law school by spending more time in Section C, or in similar places, rather than in classrooms or the library, or at home reading law books.

During our graduation ball, a fellow graduate who claimed to represent the student imports from other law schools spoke. He said, had they known that the University of Iloilo College of Law is one law school that actually feels like home, they would not have enrolled in other law schools in the first place.

Nobody disagreed.

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Manny Pacquiao, the Boxer

March 17, 2007 · Leave a Comment

I have transferred this piece here.

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Cesar Montano

March 15, 2007 · 6 Comments

I have transferred this piece here.

Categories: Politics

Shocked by a White Sheet of Paper

March 14, 2007 · 3 Comments

 

The most difficult stage in writing, according to experienced writers (one of them the author of the book “Trip to Quiapo”, one of the most respected screen writers and teachers, Ricky Lee) is facing a blank sheet of paper.

 

A blank sheet of paper means nothing because it has nothing. Unlike people, a blank sheet of paper does not have anything yet for a face. Nothing that says it wants to tell you something but could not either because it is intimidated, or scared.

 

It is a black hole.

 

So powerful is a black hole that it will even suck our sun like a child sucking a string of spaghetti from a roll (sun) in the plate (universe).

 

The white sheet sucks every idea in the mind.

 

If you try to think about it however, it is not really the blank sheet of paper that is sucking ideas out of our mind. From the time we learned to read to the time we learned to write, we have never held a blank sheet of paper to fill it with ideas ourselves, until we decide to write. We held a piece of paper because there is something written on it we want to read. For years, this has been our habit. For years, our mind has been programmed this way and the program is affirmed time and time again that every time we pick a piece of paper, it is for the purpose of reading what is written on it. Pick, read. Pick, read. Pick, read. Pick read. Pick, read.

 

Remember a pioneering study involving a dog? Every time he feeds the dog, the scientist rings the bell first, then feeds the food to the dog. Soon, the dog learns that when the bell rings there is food, so that even if there is no food the dog salivates when he hears the bell ring.

 

We have long ago learned that in every piece of paper we pick up, there are written words on it we have to read. Otherwise, we would not have picked it up at all. When we decided to write, it was too late. Our ideas we formulate in our minds only for months or years. The pick-read, pick-read habit has been etched and re-etched time and time again from the time we learned to read.

 

What happens when we face a blank sheet of paper is that we are unconsciously shocked. Shocked because our mind, unknown to us, is looking for words written on the blank sheet.

 

It is like losing a thing or a person who was always with you. Subconsciously, you know there is the person or thing. Your know there are written words on the paper. But alas, there is none!

 

And what happens when we are shocked? No thoughts, no ideas come out.

 

No article written.

 

As a writer-wanna-be, I deal with this shock, like I deal with loss.

I can not avoid white-sheet shock, as even the most experienced writer can not. But I handle it. When I face the white sheet, I convince myself, there is really nothing there. The white empty clean sheet is in front of me so that I can fill with words for a face. So that, even if that face could not tell, it can show.

 

And great writers want a face that shows rather than a face that tells.

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To Drown A Mosquito

March 8, 2007 · 1 Comment

I love to kill.  

The pain that results from their bite is a tingling painful feeling I can never comprehend. It is this pain that makes me want to crush them between my palms. I could hear their stomach stretch, tear, explode and their blood splatters against my palms. I forget about the pain from their bite and from my palms. I forget about the stain of the mosquitoes’ blood. I am filled with satisfaction. I have taken my revenge. 

There is however another way of killing them in a less violent way. That is by letting them drown in oil. It is not like drowning an animal. In the first place, mosquito is an insect lest you forget. It is not as gory as drowning an animal in the person of your enemy or drowning an animal by itself.  

No, far from that.  

Not that they drown or react to the absence of oxygen differently. Just that, no body notices. And no body really cares except maybe a scientist who cared to study how a mosquito drowns. 

Anyway, here is how to drown a mosquito in oil in three very easy steps.First we have to deal with the don’ts. 1st don’t is, do not take any frying pan. Do not heat the oil. Do not fry the mosquito. 

Now, the three very easy steps to drown a mosquito in oil: 

Step One: You get a plastic plate. The wider the better. Aside from the carbon dioxide we exhale and the scent we emit, I read somewhere that mosquitoes are attracted to bright colors. Maybe it will help if you use a bright colored plastic plate and exhale more frequently. Every time you wave the plate, mosquitoes notice it. They rush toward the plate. You will catch more in the process. That is the theory. 

Step Two: Apply oil, preferably used oil, unless your mother or your yaya or cook does not pinch you at your thigh for “playing” with an expensive household commodity such as oil. Spread it evenly as possible through out the plate except at the side where you intend to hold it.  

Step Three: Look for mosquitoes and hit them with the plate.If you hit them right, they will stick on the oil in the plate. One or two will crawl out the plate. So, watch out for them. They may take revenge. I doubt, however, if they survive. They drown. 

Sometimes, if you have been hurt many times, you become irrational. You just want to hit them back. Be careful your mom, dad, brother, sister or anyone doesn’t hit you. If the mosquitoes are near the tv set, watch out you don’t hit the tv screen. Watch out for the vase, etc. 

Then when you are tired, you rest. You watch television. When you see that in some portions of your tv screen the image is distorted, or you could see the rainbow colors, you have witnessed another down side of this drowning technology. You are sure, that not only your tv screen but everything inside your house near which you hit a mosquito has at least a drop of oil that flew from your magic plate. So there is really wisdom in doing everything moderately. I mean, in applying oil to the plate.

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