MOVING ON

This posting has been inspired by the question of my client on weekdays when I do my part-time job to pay for my rent (and other incidentals when you live in New York City). Upon seeing and reading the 1-page advertisement of "It's More Fun in the Philippines"  in the New York Times this June, he blurted out an authentically sincere question to me " Is it really? " I replied quickly and without hesitation " Yes, it is. " " Then, why are you here? " he asked further, and without a tone of sarcasm that he would usually have, and based on how I've known him as retired lawyer who graduated from one of the top law schools in the USA. I knew I shot back an answer, which got him to stop asking for more questions. I don't remember my exact answer anymore to him as of the time of this writing. But his questions got me into asking myself some difficult questions. Yes, why am I here in the USA, if it's more fun in the Philippines? I don&

I saw the posting on a link to the late Philippine National Artist Lino Brocka's "Maynila: Sa Mga Kuko ng Liwanag" from one of my Facebook friends (I personally know the guy, actually) and was prodded to watch the movie, in installments due to so many distractions while doing my various works, on my laptop. Bear with me and brace yourself as I share with you a few of my spill-over thoughts about this hauntingly beautiful film, which could be probably one of the best films ever made. Among so many reasons, it talks but never actually verbalizes it, about a certain kind of innocence that each one of us who grew up to adulthood is familiar with and can only look back to check with a tinge of liberating sadness in our hearts. I've seen this film many times many years ago, the most particularly memorable of which took place during my formal schooling years  when we were required to watch certain movies and write brief movie reviews (thus, to help us become more aware o

I copy-pasted the exchange of postings among those who shared feedback and myself after an old picture of the Ifugao Rice Terraces was posted on Facebook by the administrators of one of the many pages found in the site. Don't get me wrong but I thought the picture and its description  unwittingly looked down on the native (but not exactly unadulterated) culture of these mountain tribes, some members of whom I like to believe are linked to me by blood (I had a paternal grandmother who was a member of the Isnegs, one of those tribes in the highlands of Luzon, the Philippines' biggest island). I remember being laughed at by my classmates in MBA school when I casually pointed out to them part of my heritage---it was offensive, honestly, that they had to behave that way, considering that most of them are members of Philippine elitist society. But I think a lot of people are learning better these days the value of appreciating one's own heritage, i.e., embracing it for all its fa

I only happened to be around a gathering during the fight between Pacquiao and Marquez where the iconic Filipino fighter was defeated. And it was because we were having our annual Christmas party among alumnis of the University of the Philippines (UP). I wanted to go home before the game started but I decided to stay even if I was turning to be a sleepwalker while watching the fight from the huge TV screen. Honestly, I soon realized that Pacquiao's a loser that night; he was looking lousy that night. I had an inkling it won't be his night and I based it on the incorrect way of singing the Philippine national anthem, which is set as a march; the anthem was composed during the revolutionary period of the founding of the Philippine state. It served as a badly tune prelude to a stunning defeat of Pacquiao; I do hope organizers and spectators will always keep in mind that this particular anthem has to be sung just like we listeners are watching a brave, helpless but exciting, and

I just want to give credit to the wife for patiently teaching her American husband to learn to  speak Tagalog.  And she is a Visayan at that!  Very good work, indeed!  It also shows volumes about the kind of loving this couple must have for each other. I'm always surprised when I hear some Filipinos I meet here who'd apologize to me when they can't speak really good Tagalog to me.  I don't take it really as a slight (even if they don't know I do Tagalog tutorials here in NYC).   Now, it's always easier for people to relate better with their loved ones if they speak a common language.  There are practical considerations for this.  It makes everyday life lighter and easier to pursue;  so much is lost in translation which can be frustrating for someone who likes to express something in a language that he/she knows best. But I'm just sure the wife is just like most Filipinos who are tri-linguals, i.e. they speak at least 3 languages including Tagalog (on which &

I remember this ad to be last Coke ad I've seen on local Philippine television prior to my leaving for the US in the start of 2nd quarter of 2006. It has that certain quaint appeal that's not difficult to miss. Of course, it's a TV commercial, and an apparently, very effective marketing material at that, without trying too hard, but a bit sweaty pie-ish in delivery (sigh! what can I say about good looking people who are smiling a lot, enthusiastically, and with lovely looking eyes from those joining the crowd, and the smooth flow of moments in this brief ad!)...I could be not among its targeted audience, but I nevertheless can sense its alluring quality. I also know from my knowledge about Manila that this ad was shot somewhere in Binondo, or Sta Cruz.  Being a Tagalog tutor in a country other than the Philippines, I can see some other special things about the use of Tagalog in the ad. And in this analysis-of-a-response, I understood something in Tagalog, and I'm desc

I watched this choir one very rainy & windy May 9th (2008) evening at the Church of St. Emeric in the ABC City of East Side, NYC. Mostly the audience were made up by Filipinos, from all ranks, as expected. I noticed a number of people who were not typically Philippine-looking. Of course, the organizers had to make sure all the important Philippine officials had to speak, even for a few minutes, just to make their presence felt. I was glad the Philippine Ambassador & Permanent Representative (Justice Hilario Davide, Jr) to the UN didn't talk that long, as he recognized the audience was actually there to watch this internationally awarded choir. There were a lot of interruptions from the emcee who tried to recognize the presence of anyone, just about anyone, who are among the "who's who" here in the Philippine community in the East Coast, who bravely ventured out to watch this choir that night. Despite the irritating insistence to come up with a show by

Now, this is really something new for me. I've not done this falling-in-line activity to get a celebrity's authograph, ever yet. My friend [who has been so kind & generous, has been treating me to Broadway shows and plays everytime he's in town....he says, i could very well not afford these shows, as I'd definitely just go watch only when I'm with tourist-friends/acquaintances, since tickets are REALLY that expensive, & still get to live and lead a purposeful life in New York city] thought it was a good idea to get Lea Salonga's signature, after we watched a different play, Journey's End (a well crafted World War I-based play by R.C. Sherriff, and being staged at the Belasco Theatre), on our way out after the show to meet up with other friends who were also watching another show. Actually, we waited for the next 20 minutes or so, if I still recall it correctly. But it was kinda long wait, and I was ready to tell my friend what I got in mind then that