Undefined

Undefined

Walking through the streets of the Science complex in Diliman has never been this hard. The long gray road seems to be never-ending. The blinding glare of the sun made it even harder for me to push through. I never knew the road back to that building would be so compelling, so hard, and so emotional. I have been avoiding that place for the last two years. And most of the time, I managed to succeed in doing so. Not until now, now that I think I need to do this, now that I am most ready to face my UP past.

That familiar bleak atmosphere surrounded me while I am striding alone in the “Teletubby Land”. Isn’t it ironic that a plain bumpy road as gloomy as this would get such a happy and cheerful name? Well, I guess everything in UP is just ironic so, people don’t care anymore. A funny feeling kicked in to me as I am traversing this path. I remembered exactly how my block mate fell into the water pit while he was trying to run as fast as he could. We were looking for him to catch up but he disappeared in a jiffy, only to find out he was “swimming” in that murky “river”. I wanted to laugh hard as I was recalling that “unfortunate” incident but I managed to control myself. And my balloon of fun popped out upon realizing I am almost there. I am so uncomfortably near the building, near enough to spot that lone entrance, near enough to glimpse some familiar faces I wouldn’t want to see.

As I was walking towards the entrance of the Math building, I saw some papers in the bulletin board. As if by instinct, I looked for my name in those papers like I used to do before when I still belong here. My name didn’t appear in any of those papers but all other names are quite familiar. I felt a sudden throb while walking through the entrance. I have not been here for quite a long time and my voluntary absence made it all worse. I could have visited this place and re-acquainted with the people I used to hang out with. I could have been here to see my former professors and catch up with them. I could have been here, but I chose not to. The burden of tracking back and facing my issues is unbearable then.

Just when I thought it would not get any darker, the first floor appealed to me as so. The shadows of those tall walls prevented the light from easing through. Most classrooms are locked up as if the place has been deserted. The plants in the center piece garden are in no way blooming and inspiring. Also, there are unusually few students in this part of the building this summer. We used to sit into the long tables while waiting for our teachers. We used to review and compare assignments in those hard corner seats. We used to make fun of the non-Math majors while complaining how their Math 1 exams are so difficult. Though my grades were not getting any better then, I used to have fun here in this floor. But everything’s not quite as good as they were before. It will never be, I guess.

I managed to sneak in into an open classroom in the far end of the floor. I observed how little these rooms have changed since I last saw them. The common half-chalkboard-half-whiteboard still remained the same. The dysfunctional air conditioners which go into extremes when turned on remained the same. The usual green seats are still the same – all are still heavily abused with vandalisms. I sat into one of the chairs and tried to be as comfortable as I was before. I was hoping to get the same feeling as I used to but it just wasn’t coming. I asked myself why? I left the floor blank-minded.

The second floor wasn’t any better. The faculty of the kings and queens - as I would usually call it hasn’t changed a bit. It still homes the royalties of this building, the people we would usually run after and asked for mercy just to pass our majors. Except for some unfamiliar, new faculty members, everything’s quite the same. I still saw some students doing the same thing we did before, begging for mercy. I felt bad for them, the same way I felt bad for myself then. How could these teachers be so insensitive of these students’ feelings when they themselves became students? Had they been a little more considerate, I would still pursue a degree in this college. But they just couldn’t do so. So I packed my things then, picked up what’s left on my shattered dignity and promised myself that I would be a better teacher than they were, to not come back here again and not to beg for their elusive mercy once more. And just a mere visit of this floor made all of these emotions flourished once more. And this time, I couldn’t control my feelings, water poured down my cheeks and it just couldn’t stop. I thought I am ready to face these things, but I am still not.

After a while, I managed to gather my thoughts and proceeded in the third and final floor. This floor is not really that familiar to me. Our majors classes are mostly in the first floor and all other math subjects are in this floor. Besides, this floor brought back some more sad memories. It is here when I considered committing suicide and jumping off the building after a failed exam. It was here I received the news that I am in a probationary status and should do something more to pass. It was here when I almost cried out “foul!” and shout at the teacher when she accused us of cheating in her exams. It was here where I would secretly pour my heart out after such a stressful and traumatic day. It was all here. The saddest part of my UP life was probably staged here. And once again, I felt ashamed of myself and what I had become then. I sat on one of the corner seats and reflected on what could have my life be had I stayed in this building. If I have really lost my sanity then, probably, I could have blown this building up to get back at those abusive teachers. Or if I forced myself to like math, I would have graduated this year probably with an award or two. And it just made me feel worse. I cried once more. This time, silently, more subdued, more hurtful than ever.

The trip to the Math building made me realize things I should have known back then. One, that I am not really a Math person, that I am naturally good at this but I just can’t enjoy doing it. Second that I should stand by my decisions and not be regretful about it. I made bad decisions when I was a lot younger and I would not add more by staying in to this place where I don’t truly belong. Lastly, to move on, move forward and face what the future holds. I had been extremely hard on myself especially now that I think I am a complete mess. I might need some help to fulfill my dreams for now, but I am slowly anchoring myself to the direction I think I should pursue. I would get my UP diploma with the help of the people who trusts in me. I would fulfill my parent’s dream and help them in every way possible. I used to feel that gargantuan hate and bitterness against the Math Department, but I can’t dwell on that and I should finally let go of that grudge. Because of all these hurts and rejections, I am a completely different person now than that of the boy who first walked in the streets of Diliman. Now, I realize that I am boundless, limitless and with infinite potential. As for me and my love for Math, I think that our relationship for now would be undefined and indeterminate. The pieces don’t fit the puzzle anymore, but the picture it paints remains the same. Failure is a part of our everyday life, but giving up is just not, so I will never give up.

Moi

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It's been eons ago since I posted something in this blog. I somehow lost my passion in writing, if i had any. Haha. I'm just glad I took up a CW 10 class with Sir Wendell Capili. I'm just so glad I did.

Since it was so long ago since I last posted something in my blog, it's but appropriate to post something about me.

“Gerard De Padua, 4^th year, BSE Math, High School: Special Science Class, Angeles City, Pampanga.” I would normally introduce myself as that in my classes. I usually say it in a nonchalant, monotonic tone and deliver a rather cold and plain feeling for people inside the classroom. It’s just that I typically hate attention when inside an unfamiliar territory and the less I say, the less they’ll be interested in me. Some classmates might declare I’m anti-social but I’m not. I just prefer it that way.

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First week of GE classes in UP means only one thing – introducing yourselves to the unfamiliar faces you see inside the room and hopefully finding one or two classmate you could get along with. If luck “favors” your side, you could see someone familiar like your former seatmate in another class two semesters ago whom you never really talked to and don’t even know his/her name, your best friend’s evil ex-lover flirting with another student, or even your most hated block mate who doesn’t fail to annoy you every time. No matter how much you hated to see such people, sharing the same class with them gives you that exciting feeling that you could get back at them and spread gossips about what they do inside the class. Doing so turns out to be a very pleasurable experience and I decided to turn it as a hobby. Trust me, every one with a relatively active social life does it.

But generally, I am not really a big fan of “first-day-fun-experiences”. Aside from the gossip thingy I mentioned above, I hate “first days” and I find it extremely hard to give at least a decent required self-introduction. I am not really good in talking about myself. I am uncomfortable talking about what I like, what I don’t like, and all. I don’t’ really divulge much information about myself, So if a teacher asks me to introduce myself, I’ll rather say my name, year level and course, high school, no more, no less. If he/she would ask for specifics, I might include my address, my height and my age. To avoid complications, I always say I am from Pampanga, when my mom’s from Ilocos Sur, my dad’s from Zambales, I only grew up in Pampanga, I stay in our house in Makati during classes, and we lived in Sampaloc and Baguio for about some time. Complicated, isn’t it? I find discomfort in explaining about the complications in my life so I was never enthusiastic in introductions. Besides, I find it shallow to reveal only one dimension of yourself and let them judge you based on what they would hear from you. Gee! I have always believed that if you really want to know a person, you need not to hear it from him but rather, see it from him. And for those people whom I think knows me well enough, they would certainly agree with me in this.

Speaking of people who know me well, I only have a few to brag. I am no Mr. Popularity and Mr. Congeniality either. And I am not really that friendly and I am very selective to those I want to befriend. Let’s just say I have this gift of instinct and good judgment to see through the people I meet. I somehow know if someone is being fake or genuine, if he/she is pretentious or is he/she is trying too hard. Besides, not so many people would really approach me that simply. Come on, I am big and tall and have these piercing eyes and raised eyebrows and I could easily make a youngster cry with just a stare. I also look like I’m super serious and only mean business. In short, I look snobbish and “mataray”. Hey, but I’m taking it to my advantage. I consider this “gift of terror” as a first obstacle my potential friends needs to hurdle. And those who are in my Facebook successfully passed that first test. And those who managed to stay not annoyed by my “bitchness”, I call them my friends.

Different sets of friends who are really close to me call me different names. As if I offer different facets of my personality, I am well aware of those names which are mostly reflective of my personality.

To my parents, I am G-boy the junior, dad’s only boy, mom’s favorite son. Well, technically, I don’t have any competition in the family since I am really the only son. And being the youngest in the family, I have all the privileges and perks my sisters never had.

To my sisters, I am G-boy the only boy, the youngest who talks more than any of them, the one who gets easily frustrated and annoyed, the brother whom they would lock up inside a room because he’s “sumbungero” and the youngest who’ll put the blame upon, and the one who collected the most medals and awards than anyone of them. Well, my sisters were honor students as well, but I just had more to brag about. Actually, I had more medals than they have all combined. My theory suggests that during their time, medals back then costs more and their teachers only managed to provide them those frail ribbons. Oh well, I can still safely say I am the most intelligent in the family, no contest whatsoever.

To my cousins and relatives, I am Gboy the carbon copy of his mom, the re-incarnation of his late Uncle Carlos, the would-be favorite of my Lolo Larry if only he knew I’ll attending UP, the shy and timid cousin who rarely talks unless being talked to, the overly serious cousin who could never throw a good joke, the “revered” intelligent one cause he alone passed UP amongst his cousins, and the most peace-loving cousin who hated fighting of any sort. I certainly look like my mom but I got the height and tantrums of my dad. I never get to know Uncle Carlos nor Lolo Larry since they died before I was born. Since I prefer not to dwell on the limelight, I portray a serious and shy type of person whenever I’m with our relatives. But I always make sure that I won’t fail my parents so that our relatives wouldn’t complain about me. So far, no one dared to complain, thus, I may say that in general, my parents certainly did a great job in raising us as to be responsible, disciplined and respectful individuals.

To my childhood friends, I am Geeboy the intelligent, disciplined, spoiled brat, cry-baby who would try to please them by bribing them his toys and food. To them, I am that boy, who hates losing during playtime, the one who would strategize even to the simplest game like tumbang-preso and patintero, and the one who couldn’t ride a bike and couldn’t run a mile. Well, I still don’t know how to ride a bike but I definitely have grown out of my asthma.

For my closest elementary teachers, I am Gerard the competitive student who hates losing in academic competitions, the student who gets pressured at the sight of his mom, the student who’s obsessed with being clean and the one who has a gift in math. Some of my teachers back then would let me compute our grades because I could do it faster than they could. Up to now, some of my teachers then, who became family friends, would visit our house and ask me to solve a problem or two that they couldn’t understand. Well, I came from a public elementary school in Mabalacat, Pampanga and not to discriminate all public schools, our teachers then were not as competent but they are admirably dedicated.

To my high school friends and best friends, I am Gboy the geek, the class valedictorian, the school representative, the moody guy who hates petty fights, the fat guy who loves to eat and sing, the tactless friend who’ll say anything he wants to say about a friend’s lover, the over-protecting friend who’ll rally up against a friend’s enemy, the simple guy who just wants to listen rather than talk, and the friend who’ll stick out to you no matter what. Well, first, I am not a geek, I just happen to know more. Also, our school somehow thinks I could do anything so when I was in my 3^rd year, they sent me to Tarlac to compete for something I was never told. It happens to be a competition about population and statistics, both of which I am clueless then. They trusted me so I was thankful but it could have been nicer if they would let me know what I am going to do. Also, I admit I am moody that sometimes I think I have a Bipolar disorder. But good thing I’ve learned to control my emotions through time. Next, I don’t really know if my friends are really my friends since they would call me baboy or piggyboy whenever I am angry at them. Well, I am fat but they don’t have to reiterate that everytime! Haha! I get back at them by calling them “murit” or “bolang” or “buguk” or “aydamong lamaran.” Besides, I’ve been a very good friend to them so they never really fight back that bad at me.\

To my Math block mates, I am Gerard the serious guy who’ll eventually shift out, the funny guy who thinks nonchalantly about Math, and the man who hates Math teachers so much. I never got the chance to be very close with my block mates since I’ve already set my mind that I’m going to shift somewhere. Add that to the dreaded experiences a Math major had to endure. Well, I really think I am not a Math person so it just didn’t work out for me.

To my college friends, I am Gerard who’s sort of snobbish but very responsible, the guy who’s very organized and could share the sentiment about everything, and someone who is very flexible to anything. I couldn’t agree more. Haha!

To my Aguman friends and batch mates, I am Gboi the conio boy who lives in Makati, the one who hates every member of the organization whom we think is abusive, the member who’ll say something with firmness, the human calculator who’ll compute for bus fair, change, buddy fees and everything else with numbers, the member known for his huge cheeks, the friend whose talent includes being a good macho dancer, the member with famous lines include “Suppose Barney is purple! Walang Barney-Barney sa Math 109!”, “Na kang Kalandi!(You’re such a flirt!)”, “Walang basagan ng trip!”, “Whatever!”, and “Nang Ketak mu?”(What are you talking about?), the batch mate who’ll be fair in his judgments and almost-but-not-quite Aguman President. Well, I am no conio boy, I am just retroflex since can’t pronounce the letter “R” as perfectly. Also, I am a very good hater, I hate when I want to hate and super hate as if I mean it. I am very fair and firm as well. I stand by my principles, I have my word of honor, and I make and follow my own rules. And since I am very fond of numbers, I am the assigned calculator in the org. I can compute relatively faster than any of my friends so I took that assignment. Also, I am not a very talented person so during our talent’s night in Aguman, I made a strip tease, no matter how gooey it felt for me. Lastly, I think my cheeks were not given much attention when I was in high school, though I know I have relatively big cheeks. But since Agupips started noticing that, they called me Cheeky Boy. Now, my cheeks are more famous than I am.

To my TV and movie buddies, I am Gaboy who’s a sucker for reality shows and singing contests particularly American Idol. I’ve been watching Idol from season 2 up to now. Not only do I watch AI regularly, I watch it religiously, 3 to 4 times a day with replays, then download the songs, then download the episodes. Call me a fantard, but I am really good in predicting Idol results. I’ve successfully predicted all of the winners from Ruben Studdard to Kris Allen with the exception of David Cook. I am an Archuleta fan, FYI. And this season, I think it’s a toss-up between Crystal and Lee, with Lee having a slight advantage to win. I am a super fan that I’ve watched all the Idols concert here in the Philippines. Besides AI, I also watch Survivor, Amazing Race, America’s Best Dance Crew, Next Top Model, and more. I also have a jologs side. My inner jologs was unleashed when we won the Jologs quiz show in CMC and in Econ. I am as well a movie buff. I regularly watched HBO and Star Movies and Cinema One and all other movie cable channels. We won in Cliptomania as well, a movie quiz show in the College of Engg. Well, I can say that I am such a couch potato.

Other than TV and movies, I am a very sporty kid as well. To my sporty friends, I am Gboy who plays badminton, basketball, and table tennis. I was varsity player from elementary to high school on those three sports, no matter how obscure it sounds since I am not as fit. I also play other sports like volleyball and tennis and swimming. I guess it’s high time to be active in sports right now and not surf the web much.

Well, I think I said it all in this narrative. I revealed relatively every facet of my personality. May it be Gboi, Gboy, Geeboy, Gaboy, or Gerard; I am just as thankful to those people who took time to know me and share a piece of myself. Though I exhibit some extreme feelings to different set of people, I know I remained very truthful and honest as I could to them. Well, they are my friends, right? So they have to love me and appreciate me for who I am.

25 people (and more) I’ll Remember the Most (Part 1)

This is basically a list of the people, who had influenced me one way or another, whom should I be thankful for, and whom should I blame (!) for making me who I am today. Haha! This is something I’d tried doing eons ago but apparently, it was never finished (until now?).

This part is dedicated to those people who has/had been with me during my SSC days. Next part will be on my UP life and college years.For Pacquiao’s sake, forgive my grammar, Math people hate English, ok? Besides, I never really wanted to be a writer, a journalist, or whoever writes! Warning, this is too long!

1. Mama – She asked me once during my senior year if I would graduate as the class valedictorian. During that moment, I never really knew what would happen so I told her,” Sana, pero wag na lang tayong umasa.” But I knew then that I had a crack at that goal. She never thought I could make it. Until one day, she saw my name on the top of our batch list.

2. Papa – Pap would be home by 6 PM, every Friday, after duty, so I should come home earlier. He would do me some favors i.e. skipping chores if I could come home earlier than Ate Jika would. That’s how Fridays go back then – a race for favor. Also, he allowed me to spend some overnights, watch some concerts and travel to some remote places. My mom never did. Haha!

3. Ate Ines – We shared the same Grad party but I don’t care. She’s the closest to me so i didn’t mind. She handed me her cell phone once because I lost mine. For a couple of times. Am I clumsy or what?

4. Ate Jika – She belonged in the top section in her batch for three straight years. But in her last year in SSC, she was displaced to another section. My mom was pissed, of course. Mama went to Ate’s adviser and tried to talk it over. But to no avail, she stayed in the 2nd section. I was in my 3rd year then. Mama was so pissed off she never really talked to her. And me. I don’t know how I was dragged into the problem but that incident became the turning point of my SSC life. From then on, I knew I needed to prove something. And the rest is history.

5. Sir Regala – Speaking of History, he was my history teacher during my 1st and 3rd year in SSC. He always believed in me. Mon dieu, he basically told the whole school my dilemma on which university I should enroll in. Haha! During the announcement of UPCAT results, he told me,”Kung hindi ka papasa ng UP, ipapasara ko na ang SSC!” This guy really had some serious confidence in me. Thanks sir!

6. Angel – I firmly believe that she was the only one who truly knows me back then. (Meron pa bang iba?) Haha! One simple stare and voila, I knew what she was thinking. I helped her in every possible way I could. And she did the same for me. For some time then (Dyordz vs Stabilo?), she hated me for acting childish. But I never did.

7. Kei – He made me look cool when every thought I am the geekiest kid in town. Haha! I used to sing *ahem* in a band with Kei and that was really one of the few moments people knew I had some singing prowess. I used to sleep over in their house to do our final papers and reports because we (me, kei, lobo) are the only one who takes the project so seriously. I felt really close to his dad then because I used to hang out in their house with our classmates and sing and relax and chill.

8. Kristian – Kamute as we fondly call him. He consoled me during my lowest points, when I was struggling with my acad stuffs and my acadteam stuffs. He always tried to make us smile and fair enough, he did well. We did share some Ateneo memories and Baluga Village treks. Haha! I recently stormed my friendster inbox and saw a message from Mutz and he was saying sorry. I don’t know what happened then and for whatever that is, you’re forgiven.

9. Erin – I am two years her superior but the age gap never really interfered us to get close. We (Ruth and I) started this AcadTeam summer camp which aims to prepare AcadTeam members in their future endeavors. Apparently, Erin was one of those who trusted us and we became instant friends since then. That summer camp was a pivotal point in our SSC life because it provided 3 valedictorians, 2 salutatorians, and countless honor awardees.

10. Zenjie – I was a father to a child a year younger than me. And he followed his father’s foot steps to become another SSC valedictorian. One memory I couldn’t forget was when we conspired to be teammates for a competition. The competition was intended for pairs, not for a team, so Ruth, Steph, moi and Zenjie needed to split up into two groups. We tried to manipulate the random selection but I ended up with Ruth as my partner. Eventually though, we won in that competition.

11. Ruth – We shared some crying times when we slid down in the rankings. She cried when I tried to use and finish our unfinished Research paper onto our Physics class. Being AcadTeam teammates, we tried to defend our right to compete to Sir Wendell but we failed. But we never showed we’re beaten. And I should be thankful to those dramatic moments. But more than the drama that was, we shared the most triumphs I’ve had in my SSC life.

12. Rae – I envied her once because she was most loved by my best friend then. But we remained good friends ever since. Ironically, I felt closer to her more than to my best friend during our senior year. We shared some abortionist hunting experience, plus the effort group’s most effort projects ever! Haha! I really thought this girl (or boy?) helped me achieved some of my personal goals. Alam mo na yun!

13. Mike – My SSC life would never be complete without mentioning Mike. He used to be my closest friend then. He was my shock absorber then, sucking up all the negative energy around me. He was a perfect friend except for one thing. He was way too passive. I acted bullish, he never complained. I did something wrong, he never complained. And the shock absorber thing backfired against me. Kumbaga, quota na ko! And I was sorry for that.

14. Nina – We got along pretty well. She really saved me quite a few times when I spent all my money for food and she’d end up paying for my fare. I always thought she was the “deepest” girl that I ever knew. The deepest insights came from her. She always tells me when I am mean. She was my emotional guard then. And I missed that emotional guard thingy.

15. April- I usually call her Apjoy. She was the first person to approach me and ask my name when we were freshies then. I, mike and Apjoy are best friends then. We would sing “Cry me a river” during breaks in the Math Park. She was my badminton companion. Badminton made us closer. We played Badminton during Intramurals and we won. She was my coach, on and off court. She tells me to relax and have time for myself. She called me desperate once, and I know I was. Haha! We remain good friends up to now.

16. Anthony – Wala lang! We had an epic fight over these words. And the he-bitch in me prevailed so I fought back though I knew it was my fault. But we got over that thing, getting back to our usual selves. Before, as I made a shift from Dyordz to Stabilo, we remained good friends. Now, I’ll admit, we did cheat during quizzes. Everyone does. But we helped each other then. Cheating (in quizzes) was never a good thing, but we believed, it wasn’t that bad either.

17. Steph – She always amazed me with her work and study habits. She taught me how to be principled yet humble and to stand for whatever I believe in. She was my other AcadTeam teammate and we shared some winning moments together. Though she was my closest competitor for the top honors, we never really talked about that thing. We remained good friends throughout our SSC years.

18. Monica – In a place full of Grade Conscious and Overly Competitive individuals, isn’t it great to find a friend loyal and understanding. She always lends her ears whenever I needed someone to talk to. She was my seatmate for three years. We always talk about stuffs and our future plans and our teachers and our classmates. Basically, tsinismis namin kayo! Haha!

19. Mam Mye – She wrote me a letter about me giving up easily. I knew she would understand me well for she was an Ate to me. She was very kind to me and she would be very malambing at times. She once told me she would fail me so that I would not leave SSC. I never really wanted to leave SSC.

20. Mam Amy – She was the other mother I wished I had. Though no one could ever replace my mom, she somehow managed to make me feel so much loved and so great. She always believes in me and I do thank her for doing so.

21. Mam Bognot – She gave strong words so annoying and yet I believed her and I listened to her. I was never the listener type but with Mam Bogs, I managed to survive the whole period without my mind floating somewhere else. There was one time when she almost caught me eating inside the class. I pretended my head is aching while chomping the last bite of cookie I am eating.

22. Joed – He was my Da Vinci mate. I would call him every time I need to go to Angeles. He would go out of his way to wait for me in front of our house cause if not, I would be so late. He would make tsismis about SSC stuffs and I would feed on the info and tell some others as well. Haha! I remembered when we were rejected from watching The Da Vinci Code because it’s an R18 film and we were young then and we would fake our age. We ended up watching X Men III though. Haha!

23. Gail – She would pinch me in my cheeks and would call me baboy but I never got angry to her. Cause I get free food from eating her lunch! Haha! I consider Gail to be one of the nicest friends I had. Bad thing, she never really went out during Saturdays (because of her religion) and she missed all of the Saturday fun! Haha!

24. Tipay – He was my twin brother when I could still catch up with his height. Though he was the bully, he never tried bullying me. We were close then. Ateneo bullying trips? Haha! Had he been a little nicer, he would be as good as I was. Joke! Haha!

25. Cindy – She listened to me every time I am trying to say something. We would go home together with Gail and other Mabalacat people and share some bonding moments together. Once, I felt lonely inside our class because of the decisions I made in the past. And she made me feel I belong in our class.

More people I should be thankful for…

Dennis, Jerome, Mam Elsa, Lobo, Ate Kaye, Eguia, Venny, Gela, Joar, Rhoma, So, Kata, Claud, Mam Leigh, AJ, Suyen, Magju, Janine, Ielle

I don't know what I want..

This is probably the toughest question I’ve ever faced in my entire life, harder than a Math 109 or Math 123.1 final exam.

Harder than any other question I’ve made for Pautakan, and probably the hardest I’ve faced so far.

For once in my life, I don’t know what I want.

I don’t know what could make me happy.

I don’t know what to do.

I don’t know where to begin and I don’t know where I should end up.

Really, I think my entire life is pretty messed up right now.

I don’t know where to go. I see no direction in my life, with no path to take, nor a single step to follow.

I’m just stuck.
I don’t think I did what I had to do. I feel like it’s useless to do something I know would not work eventually.

Damn. I just don’t know what I want.

I don’t know what my real purpose is.

I may be over thinking sometimes but hey, that’s what I do the most – THINK!

I really don’t know what happened, what is happening and what will happen.

I need some help. I need some support. I need every bit of luck I could get right now.

I’m hoping for the best.

Damn. Enough of this self pity thing!

I need to catch some sleep. I hope this thing works.

co (www.indiephotobooklibrary.org)

Do you Consider Yourself a Filipino?

"I think history is inextricably linked to identity.

If you don't know your history, if you don't know your family, who are you?"

Definitely, I am a Filipino.


Brown skinned, rounded eyes, short. Like any pinoy would look like.


More than what I look, I am born and raised in the Philippines, speaks Filipino and Capampangan, understands Ilokano and Zambal.


And if that's not convincing enough, I ate (and continues to eat) rice practically my whole life -arguably, the deciding factor whether a man is Filipino or not.


But what really makes a Filipino? Is it the blood? the heritage? or is it the lifestyle?


What if a French native considers himself a Filipino because he speaks Filipino fluently, would he be a NoyPi?


What if a very rich Pinoy who practically uses English her whole life cannot speak Filipino well, considers herself American, and lived her whole life in USA, would she be a NoyPi?

Wikipedia describes a Filipino as "a citizen of the Philippines and calls himself Pinoy". If i'm going to apply wiki's definition, the French national would then be a Pinoy and the Pinay would not be a Noypi.


But if im going to classify them both, i'll say that the French guy is a naturalized Pinoy and the Pinay will still be a Pinoy no matter what; making both of them Pinoy. The more Pinoys, the merrier di ba?


I asked an online pal in Myspace if she considers herself a Filipino. She answered, "I consider myself as a Filipino more than an american, even though i was born here in the states. The reason for that is because My whole image is as a filipina girl. Doesn't matter what culture i was raised in, (American) Image counts more than anything else. I embrace my culture as well as the american culture because it is who i am! In all accuracy, I am a Filipino American."


For her, it's the image she portrays that makes her a Filipina. I do agree with her, it's in the image AND the outlook which makes a person Filipino. And living your life the "Pinoy Style" would gladly help in doing so.

I also asked my cousin, who particularly lived all his life in the States, if he considers himself a filipino. He answered yes, because he was born a filipino, both his parents are filipino and he somehow lived a filipino life. He's more fluent in Ilocano than in Tagalog though. But at least he still considers himself a filipino..

I saw Neni Sta. Romana-Cruz' You know You're Filipino in this posh bookstore and immediately, it caught my elusive attention. It's a compilation of forwarded e-mails of traits which makes Filipinos stand out in a crowd. Composed of eleven categories, it's as if a checklist you have to answer and depending on how many traits you have, you get a score on how truly a Filipino you are.


I'll list some of them, which i know applies to you, me and any typical Filipino in this world.

Family Matters

Your middle name is your mother’s maiden name.


Your parents call each other “Mommy” and “Daddy.”


You have uncles and aunts named Boy, Girlie, or Baby.


You have relatives whose nicknames consist of repeated syllables, such as, Jun-Jun, Ling-Ling, and Mon-Mon.
You call the parents of your friends and your own parent’s friends “Tito” and “Tita”.


You greet your elders by touching their hands to your forehead.


The prospect of sending your elderly parents to a nursing home is inconceivable.


You abide by your parents’ house rules even if you are over 18.


You live with your parents until-and at times even after-you’re married.


You think nothing about hosting a houseful of balikbayan relatives for weeks on end-and can still smile about it.


You demand that your children sing and dance to amuse your friends and relatives.

Where we live

You decorate your living room wall with your family’s framed diplomas and certificates and plaques.


On your living room wall you display a shield bearing “The weapons of Moroland” alongside a giant wooden rosary and wooden tinikling dancers or Ifugao heads.


You decorate your dining room wall with a giant wooden spoon and fork and a picture of the Last Supper.


You keep a Sto. Nino shrine in your living room.


You keep a statue of a big, fat, laughing Buddha-with those pesky little kids crawling all over him-for good luck.


Your house has a “dirty” kitchen and a “clean” kitchen.


You recycle plastic shopping bags as garbage bags.


You use a bolo to cut grass in the yard.


You keep a tabo in your bathroom.


You used a halved coconut husk to polish the floor.

Health and Hygiene

You prescribe a ginger brew and a salt mouthwash to treat sore throats.


You use Vicks Vapor Rub as an insect repellant.


The way we eat


You eat with your hands.


You think a meal is not a meal without rice.


You use your fingers to measure the water you need to cook rice.


You can’t eat a meal without using a spoon with your fork.


You don’t need a knife to cut your food.


You think sandwiches are snacks, not meals.


These are Filipino BBQ. These are grilled and sold in the streets. These are dipped in vinegar before these are eaten.

Addidas – chicken feet
PAL – chicken wings
IUD – chicken intestines
Helmet – chicken heads
Betamax – chicken blood
Walkman – pig’s ear

You recycle bottles into water containers and store these in the fridge.


Your pantry is never without Spam, Vienna sausage, corned beef, and sardines.


You love to eat what others mistakenly refer to as “rotting fish.”


You prop up your knee while eating.


You can’t enjoy a meal without patis, toyo, vinegar, banana ketchup, or bagoong.


You eat fried chicken with ketchup and unripe fruit with giant salt crystals.


You eat fried Spam and hot dos with rice.


You like sweet spaghetti.


You like “dirty” ice cream.


You eat purple yam ice cream.

The way we drive

You hang your left arm out the window and wave your hand to signal a left turn.


You hang a rosary on your car’s rear view mirror.


You can squeeze 15 passengers into your five-seater car without a second thought.

The way we pray

You spend Holy Week either performing acts of penitence or vacationing.

You get together with family at a cemetery on All Saint’s Day to eat, drink, and tell stories by your loved ones’ graves.


You can crack jokes, play cards or mahjong, and drink beer at funeral wakes and not feel irreverent.


You think the Christmas season begins in September and ends in January.

Christmas isn’t Christmas without a parol and a belen.


There are at least 50 people on your Christmas gift list.


You unwrap Christmas presents so carefully, so you can reuse the wrappers and bows for next year.

You touch your chin with your thumb every time you make the sign of the cross.


You make the sign of the cross every time you pass a church.


The way we travel

Your second piece of luggage is a balikbayan box.


You collect items from airlines, hotels, and restaurants as “souvenirs.”


You feel compelled to give “pasalubong” to all your friends and relatives each time you return from a trip.

The way we shop

You can’t make a purchase without haggling.


It’s an absolute must to go to duty-free shopping even when you’ve come home with several balikbayan boxes.

You use paper foot outlines when buying shoes for friends and relatives.

Pinoy body language

You point with your lips.


You scratch your head when you don’t know the answer.


You smile all the time for no reason at all.You ask for the bill at a restaurant by making a rectangle in the air.

The way we speak

You can use ambiguous words like “kwan” and “ano” and yet be perfectly understood by another Filipinos.


You love to use the following acronyms:

CR for comfort room
DI for dance instructor
DOM for dirty old man
TNT for tago ng tago
KJ for kill joy
KSP for kulang sa pansin
OA for over reacting
MU for mutual understanding
TL for true love
BF for boyfriend
GF for girlfriend


You say “Uy!” or “Aray!” instead of “Oops!”


Instead of “I beg your pardon?” you say “Ha?”


You refer to power interruptions as “brownouts.”


You “open” or “close” the lights.

The way we are

You’re always late.


You cope with serious situation by turning it into a humorous one.


You’ll go into debt for a celebration.


You like everything imported.


You always prefer to sit in the shade than bask in the sun.


You use an umbrella in fair or foul weather.


You love ballroom dancing and karaoke.


You hang your clothes out to dry.


You love to laugh at yourself and at others.

After that long list, i have some more from another source.

Most Filipino women / young women own a LOT of shoes! They will also never wear more than half of them again.

Cokes are reserved for visitors to your house.
Your mother / grandmother's most precious item is her sewing machine.
You buy 25 lb. bags or rice and gallon jugs of soy sauce.


Trying to explain to people why Philippines starts with "Ph" and Filipino starts with "F".


Your grandparents leave the TV on even when nobody watches it.


The exact same artificial christmas tree with the same ornaments, year after year.


Your parents try to get you to go on a date with a child of one their friends.

And some more...

You only buy Christmas cards after Christmas, when they are 50% off.

When there is a sale on toilet paper, you buy 100 rolls and store them in your closet or in the bedroom of an adult child who has moved out.

Your stove is covered with aluminum foil.


Your kitchen has a sticky film of grease over it.


You use the dishwasher as a dish rack.


You have never used your dishwasher.


You eat all meals in the kitchen.


You save grocery bags, tin foil, and tin containers.


You always leave your shoes at the door.


You have a piano in your living room.


You pick your teeth at the dinner table (but you cover your mouth).


You twirl your pen around your fingers.


You hate to waste food....

(a) Even if you're totally full, if someone says they're going to throw away the leftovers on the table, you'll finish them.

(b) You have Tupperware in your fridge with three bites of rice or one leftover chicken wing.
You don't own any real Tupperware-only a cupboard full of used but carefully rinsed margarine tubs, takeout containers, and jam jars.


You have a collection of miniature shampoo bottles that you take every time you stay in a hotel.


The condiments in your fridge are either Price Club sized or come in plastic packets, which you save/steal every time you get take out or go to McDonald's.


You never order room service.


You fight over who pays the dinner bill.

Your dad thinks he can fix everything himself.


You majored in something practical like engineering, medicine or law.


When you go to a dance party, there are a wall of guys surrounding the dance floor trying to look cool.


You live with your parents and you are 30 years old (and hey they refer it that way). Or if you're married and 30 years old, you live in the apartment next door to your parents, or at least in the same neighborhood.


Your parents' house is always cold.


You reuse teabags.


Your mom drives her Mercedes to the Price Club.


You always look phone numbers up in the phone book, since calling Information costs 50 cents.


You only make long distance calls after 11 pm.


You have acquired a taste for bittermelon (ampalaya).


You prefer your shrimp with the heads and legs still attached-it means they're fresh.


You always cook too much.


If you don't live at home, when your parents call, they ask if you've eaten, even if it's midnight.


You e-mail your friends at work, even though you are only 10 feet apart.


Your parents send money to their relatives in the Philippines.


You eat every last grain of rice in your bowl, but don't eat the last piece of food on the table.


You know someone who can get you a good deal on jewelry or electronics.

You never discuss your love life with your parents.


Your parents are never happy with your grades.


You save your old Coke bottle glasses even though you're never going to use them again.


You keep used batteries.


Your toothpaste tubes are all squeezed paper-thin.


Your relatives either work in medicine or real estate.


OK, enough of that listing. The important thing is we know, we Filipinos are unique and we (and our peculiar traits) stand out in crowds, no matter what.


Then, what defines a Filipino?


Blood. Culture. Outlook. Lifestyle.

But more than what defines a Pinoy, it's more important to be proud of your heritage and live your life - Pinoy Style.

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This is one of my journal entries submitted to Mr. Cardenas' class in Sociology 10.. I posted it somewhere and apparently, I got some few good reviews from other bloggers.. So I might as well post it inmy personal blog.. Enjoy!