a PISO for your thoughts

Makisig si Maria. Maraming nagsasabing mas makisig pa kahit sa bigtoliyong si Pedro.

Bulungan sa tindahan ang dami ng ani ni Maria. Iniwan s’ya ng mga magulang n’ya ng maaga…tubelrculosis sa ama…pighati sa ina. Naiwang may lupa ngunit walang magsasaka. Napilitang magsaka si Maria, matutunan lahat ng bagay na dati’y pinanonood lamang n’yang gawin ng ama sa init ng umaga habang sya’y sukob ng lilim ng puno ng aratilis. Ngayon, mga kama’y n’yay walang pahid ng kolorete, buhok ay lagi lamang nakapusod. Imbes na makukulay na kasuotan, mahahabang mangas at mahabang pamunas.

Matagal na silang magkaibigan ni Pedro. Anak ng masisipag at mababait na magulang. Si Pedro rin ay may maliit na sakahan, tabi ng kay Maria. Halos magkasing liit lamang ang dalawang lote, pero hindi maintindihan kung bakit mas maraming nasasaka si Maria.

“Isipin mo, hane, lamang ng dalawang sakong palay si Maria ke Pedro ngayong sakahan,” bulong bulungan ng mga taong ginagawang telebisyon and buhay ng mga kapitbahay.

Hindi mahina si Pedro. Matipuno at laking ang laman ay sanay sa trabaho. Maganda si Maria, Cebuano ang tatay kaya’t makinis ang balat. may parteng bumbay and ina, malalim ang mata, misteryoso. May ngiting animo’y binutas ni kupido sa magkabilang pisngi.

Mga bubot pa lang sila’y nagpapahila na sila sa kalabaw kasama ang bulig ng mga palay. Nanghuhuli ng kuliglig at namimitas ng aratilis. Pinagkwentuhan ang mga kanya kanyang kaasintahan, iniyakan ang isa’t isa sa bawat mapaklang prutas ng buhay. Si Pedro ang naging sangang kapitan ni Maria nang mamatay ang mga magulang nya, si Maria naman ang mga dahon para kay Pedro kapag may unos sa kwento n’ya.

Ang hindi alam ng lahat. Lihim na iniibig ni Pedro si Maria.

“Pero paano,” tanong ng binata sa sarili, “paano kong masasabi gayong dulo ako ng biru-biruan sa peryahan na s’ya mismo ang puno?”

Tama si Pedro, kutya at kantyaw ang palagi n’yang naririnig sa bentahan ng palay, sa tindahan ng pataba, sa matabang instik na hinihiraman n’ya ng gamit pangsaka. Talo ka ni Maria. Babae s’ya at s’ya mismo ang nagsusuot sa’yo ng palda sa dami ng inaani n’ya. Sabay tawa. Dahil dito, nakuntento si Pedro na panoorin na lamang si Maria, makitang umunlad ang buhay ng dalaga. Mula sa naipong pera’y nakabili ng mas malaking lupa, pinasok ang negosyong manok at baka. Nagpuntang Maynila para ibenta ang mga alaga, hanggang sa pinirmahan ang kontratang sumisigurong magiging Chikenjoy ang mga alagang manok at yumburger ang mga baka. Sa Maynila rin nakahanap ng asawa, nagkaanak at doon na nanirahan.

Maganda rin ang naging buhay ni Pedro, nagkaron ng maliit na pwesto sa bayan, nagbebenta ng binhi at naging punong barangay pa. Pero sa bawat uwi ng pamilya ni Maria, naghihiyawan ang mga bata, “Ninong Pedro, ninong Pedro, sakay ulit tayo ng kalabaw…” sabay bukas sa pridyider. “Kamusta na si Inyang?” tanong ni Maria.

Si Inyang ang reyna empreratriz ng bawat Santa Cruzan mula nung nagkaregla s’ya. At si Pedro naman ang sinuwerteng maging kasintaha n’ya.

“Maayos naman, may plano atang mangibang bansa. Hong Kong yata. Sinusuportahan ko naman nang makaranas naman ng kaluwagan ang pamilya nila,alam mo, balak ko na rin s’yang ayaing magpakasal pagbalik n’ya,” wika ni Pedro.

Pero, isang uwi ni Maria sa kanilang barrio, hindi nakangiting Pedro and inabutan n’ya. Wala ang mabangong amoy ng init, lupa at binhi. Walang pula ng araw sa balat. Imbes, lasing at walang gana. Iniwan na s’ya ni Inyang. Dadalhin daw ng naging among Briton sa Inglatera para magmodelo. Hindi na raw kaya ng dalaga na may bagaheng dala dalang maaring maging pabigat pa sa lalo n’yang pamamayagpag. Mag-isang umuwi si Maria nang marining iyon, at isang sawing Pedro ang inabutan n’ya. “Ano bang nangyari sa’yo?” tanong ni Maria habang nagtitimpla ng dalawang basong kape. Pero hindi s’ya sinagot ni Pedro. Pagdantay ng kape sa lamesita’y humagulgol si Pedro sa balikat ni Maria, ramdam n’ya ang bigat ng bawat luha, ang init nito na animo’y galit, ang dami ng luha na parang nagpapatubig ng sakahan. Hindi na nagsalita ang dalaWa. Hinaplos na lamang ang braso ni Pedro, parang nagpapatahan ng bata. Pag-angat ng mukha ng lalaki, akmang may sasabihin… nagtagpo hindi ang salita, ngunit kanilang mga labi.

Pero huli na. Kahit pa sabihin ni Pedro ang lihim n’yang pagtingin ngayon, wala na ring saysay. Tumakbo palabas ng bahay si Maria at ang likuran na lamang n’ya, parang larawan ng pintor na binalangkas ng pinto ang huling nakita ni Pedro.

“Sayang, isip ni Maria. Bakit sa ilang dekada kitang minahal, ngayon mo lang ako hinalikan,” ang tanong ni Maria sa sarili sa bus pauwi.

I lived in a pardox of sorts when I spent my formative years (seven years of grade school, three of high school) in San Beda College from 7Am-3PM and Sta. Cruz, Manila the other odd hours. The weird thing, which I will most probably expound on in a different piece, was that I went to school that charged 20,000 pesos a year while my friends took five pesos to school with them for their daily sustenance. That meant that after school, around the sons of lawyers, businessmen and other affluent families, I went home to a street where my friends and I brought out any leftover lunch; read: Black, burnt rice at the bottom of the pan and half a piece of salted fish, for a communal dinner capped by an eight-peso 800ml bottle of local cola.

So, in San Beda, I learned just how the good life tasted — though those rich kids NEVER acted like the snotty airheaded morphlings of today’s pricey schools — and in Vision Street, Sta. Cruz a couple of blocks away from the then San Lazaro horse racetrack (yes, I knew that place before it had airconditioned department stores and Starbucks) showed me how the good life… is over-rated.

Okay, okay…

I know you like your hors d’ oeuvres and your bite-sized pieces of pastries and cured meats, hell, I know what you’re talking about when you say amous bouche and pancetta, but do you know the simple…rustic…so-bad-for-you-it’s-damn-good delight of monosodium glutamate showered dirty oil deep-fried cow fat? Sebo, my dear cabron. Street food, for the average, subdivision-bred insolent means rubbery calamares or the classic 50 centavo fishball now relegated to second-stringer status due to rise of pretentious chicken, squid and shrimp balls. Some people recall banana-que and kamote-que. I even hear stories of “south” (Parañaque ain’t no St. Luis or ATL mah boys… the real south is Cebu) grown girls in elitist schools who have not tasted balut. Seriouly, I understand the paranoia surrounding the gloriously germ infested fishball, but an egg is a perfectly clean life-support system designed by nature to protect the continuance of a species– the point is, it won’t make you sick and it’s such a sin to carry a Filipino passport and not know how it tastes like. Dang.

Living in a steet filled with horse-racing fanatics, a dash of addicts, a sprinkling of street ballers and computer addicts, my life at home was classically urban Pinoy. Fishball vendors were friends I even drank with one after they sold out the day’s wares, always saving a fourth of a pack of fishballs and three one-day-old ducks for our pulutan. When I was a kid the most famous lady in the community was the Yakult vendor followed closely by the Magnolia Chocolait-in-a-bottle milkmaid.

I know street food. My circle of friends are street food connoissuers.

Do not, at any time, claim Pinoy urbanite status without tasting at least five of the items below.

1. Fishballs : Not the flat discs dipped in grossly sweet soy-based sauce. I’m talking about those that were scattered along Mendiola, more specifically, La Consolacion College: those were slightly more puffy, with a dense almost-real fish taste to them. These fishballs had body, more like miniature fishcakes in their slightly more yellow tinge, but the crowning glory of fishballs is the master saucer: there was this one, balding beer-bellied manong I ran to after every school day who made the best sauce. It was golden, not blackish-brown, with a sweetness countered by the rich folding of what I now realise was margarine, with a few sauteed then boiled chunks of garlic. That was the fishball that cost me 40 pesos per afternoon. I drank that sauce like it was Jollibee gravy,man.

2. Squidballs : before the prodigious rise of the chicken ball, the squidball was the heir-apparent. The squidballs were large, well, balls - back then with a real kick of squid. Today’s versions are watered down clones. They were perfect when they reached their maximum size, then one skewers them with a bamboo stick to dip in vinegar first then the sweet-spicy sauce. Now, the best squidballs I know are those that really taste like squid and with a vinegar dip red with onions, chillies and kalamansi (Philipine lime).

3. One-day-old : These are called such because that’s what they are. Orange, almost dry day-old chickens. I know they’re chickens because at times, one-day-olds are actually two or three days more mature with the palong (crown) starting to grow out. There are two variations, one with the bitter gall bladder (?) left on for that weird and inviting bitter bomb or the one where the bladder is removed. Both are a study in contrast: the head,neck and legs are crunchy bites, while the abdomen offers soft innards with a rubbery thing I do not even know anatomically. But, the best thing about one-day olds is to crisp them, leaving it intact, dip them in the community vinegar dip and gobble them up whole. You might not hear this very common food phrase for this food item much but, it is a symphony of textures and tastes. Life.Is.Good.

4. Quekiam or Kikiam : Normally swimming in hot oil together with the first three, I’d rather not talk about that elongated blob of excreted-looking tube because I really don’t understand it. Let’s just talk about this quekiam I really am looking for these days but can’t get a hold of. When I was in grade four ages ago, I had this P.E teacher who sold us a stick of Chinese quekiam, those thin, long, greasy and is-this-cooked? things for 10 pesos a pop. Every purchase gained three merits for that day’s activity or a plus .5 to the final examination.Yes, Juans and Marias, smile as you remember your version of my teacher. So we bought them, because it was a way to get a free pass through boring P.E. The surprising thing was, they were so effin’ delicious. Now, I forgot most of elementary days because I was a library book-club primero nerd, but I clearly remember how that red and brown stick looked and tasted like. It was speckled with dehydrated pork fat, those pearly globules just melted when you bit into them. It had this chorizo-like texture of dried sausage but with a hint of sweetness. It came with a peanut sauce that just crowned the whole thing king. I tried looking for it in Ongpin, I got some sauges that resembled it, but nothing that tasted like it.

5. Dirty Mami : A bike connected to two stainless steel drums with a makeshift stainless counter top. Stopping at intersections and waiting for very eager customers. Now, when that manong grabs a red plastic bowl and proceeds to take a handful of noodles, put it in a small cup-like sieve and bobs it in beef broth, please,please, hold your claps as he ain’t done. He’ll put those noodle in the bowl, sprinkle toasted garlic, spring onions and boiled odd beef cuts to them. This is the time you interrupt - ask him to put boiled beef fat when he drowns the whole thing in broth. When he’s done, grab the bottle of soy and hot sauce, flavor to your liking. Puto (rice cakes) optional, claps and admiration compulsary.

6. The Pinoy barbecue de rigeur edition : Normal stuff you see on any street barbecue stall. Pork barbecue, pork ears, chicken and pork interstines or isaw, the occasional hotdog, chicken gizzard and pork liver. Not much to say, just this - ever wondered why most pork barbecues taste the same? I bought some in a wet market once and bought another in an entirely different city market. Both had the same cuts with skewered pork meat with fat at the bottom and both tasted the same: sweet and salty. the marinade was a caramel-hued black and wow was it good. Is there like, a factory of this marinade or a congregation of meat dealers who came up with this? Hmmm.

7. The Pinoy barbecue Indiana Jones edition : For the more adventurous set (naks, napasok talaga ‘yung Indiana Jones eh no?) there are the more acquired array of barbecues. Betamax is coagulated pig blood blocks with salt and vinegar, very tart and the right preparation makes the texture like firm gelatin. Puwit, are chicken bottoms, an explosion of fat encased in crispy chicken skin. Period. Pork skin and fat,’nuff said. Chicharon bulaklak - I don’t know the exact name of the part, but it’s definitely pork intestine. When it’s grilled, it becomes crisp with a very oily,heavy and musky taste. Adobo chicken feet which require some level of skill to eat. It’s mostly tendons and the fingers are bony so the way to eat this right is to bite of the fingers one at a time, just take the skin ’til you’re left with the palm. Put the whole thing into your mouth and bite at the ankle and work your way up. you’re left with a bone and a smile on your face. My favorite is helmet: chicken heads that appear in two ways - either as three whole chicken heads without the beak or just one head with the neck attached. I prefer the one with the neck. Eating the head is tricky, but I’ve mastered it to the point I do it without even touching it. Bite off the jaw, spit out the bones. Nit pick the eye with your teeth as these are inedible and leave the socket alone, do it with both eyes. Take the top skin off, the one covering the cranium and take the two big skull bones first. you’ll see the brain, but don’t chomp on it just yet. Bite the front of the head almost ’til the brain, it’s gonna be juicy. Take the two smaller skull bones on the base of the neck off and suck the brains out. Chomp on the base of the neck to get the entire skull off. Wipe your oily lips.

8. Cherryball : If you’re over 20 and you don’t know this, you probably had cable and aircondioning when you were a kid. Even a generator, at most, in the Cory Aquino era. They’re small, screaming red gum balls for 10cents a piece. Normally inside a large glass jar in fornt of the store where you buy Wonderboy, Sweetcorn, Snacku, Nachos, Chiz Curls, Butterball, Litson Baka, Tira Tira, Kiamoy, The salty spicy dried dilis and squid, Pog and Teks (uy, ngumiti, matanda na. Hahaha).

9. The kariton Cheese curls : A kariton or wood cart is pushed by an old man. The cart contains a large plastic bag of cheese curls, the source of which remains a mystery to this day, which you buy for 25 cents per serving. He makes a large cone out of a page of an old phone directory and scoops the cheese curls with a tabo or water dipper and fills the cone with it. Enjoy.

10. Sorbetes or Dirty Ice Cream : Still exists today as a Pinoy trademark as iconic as the jeepney. Sold out of colorful pushcarts which open up to three tubs of ice cream kept cold by ice and salt. The flavors range from the classical ube (taro), mango, cheese chocolate to the updated langka (jackfuit), buko (coconut), peanut butter and cookies and cream. Served in either tasteless or sweet cones, small plastic cups or, my fave, monay or round bread. Not as creamy as commercial ice cream, but suited to the tastes, and pockets, of the Juan.

11. Mani and Cornick : Peanuts and Cornick are exported these days, the peanuts are either skin on or off cooked adobo-style and fried. The cornick are crunchy pieces or corn. The one thing I love about street mani is that you can add chilli-salt to it. Plus the extra crisp garlic wedges.

12. Grilled dried squid : The man carries a small makeshift grill and plants his store anywhere the customers are. He only has one product : dried and salted squid which he proceeds to grill in front of you. This gives it the smoky flavor that makes the crisp squid that one hella of a crack.

13.Popcorn, cotton candy, scramble and taho : All served in bike and cart contraptions except taho, these are the kids’ favorites.Popped corn kernels in different flavors like cheese, barbecue and cotton candy. Seriously. Seen in glass and aluminum partitions with an incandescent bulb to light the whole thing up. Cotton Candy made in front of you with various colored sugar put in the middle of a cyclotron looking device, it’s topped with a healthy sprinkling of powdered milk. Scramble is shaved ice with milk and flavoring served in a plastic cup topped with powdered milk and Hershey’s Chocolate syrup (kuno). Taho is a soy drink. Soft and jelly like, it’s served in plastic cups with sago (taioca pearls) at the bottom and arnibal or dark simple syrup on top. The choice? To mix or not to mix.

14. Dirty Salad : Another bike and cart contraption features about six bowls of different salads on a bed of ice and salt. Macaroni, Buko, Fruit…etc. Haven’t really tried these as I’m not a big white salad person.

15. The Qs : Saba and kamote (sweet potato) are fried in a bath of oil and brown sugar and skewered. Also features the tasty turon - banana halves embraced by white sugar, optional langka, then rolled in lumpia wrappers to be fried. The sweetness of the banana is heightend by the sugar and the wrapper crisps to texture defining glory.

16. Pinoy burger : Featuring a very thin and flour-y patty, the Pinoy burger is quintessianly Pinoy - a bastardization of a foreign food item given color and variety. The cool thing about this street burger is the add-ons you can pile on top of it. Though bacon and mushroom aren’t on the choices, the variations are still very worthwhile. Tomatoes, coleslaw (mayonnaise and cabbage), ham, egg and cheese make for a pretty filling burger.

17. Pinagtabasan : This just takes the cake for weird factor. Literally. There was this one lady that always appears early evening along my street screaming “Pinagtabasan, pinagtabasan ng cake!” She sold sponge cake shavings. For real. I don;t know how she got them, I am baffled up to now, but when one was early and lucky, one got the parts with icing on it. Dang.

18. The two peso Lumpia : An absolute favorite of mine I just don’t see around anymore. A man carries two stainless steel boxes. These are attached to a bamboo stick that runs across his shoulders. When you buy from him, he opens the box to reveal four compartments and a small working space. He takes a small lumpia wrapper and puts it in the middle of the work space. He lathers it with a brown peanut sauce and sugar then puts in the filling of sauteed carrots, string beans and monggo sprouts. He then asks you if you want it sweet or spicy. Say sweet and he lathers it with more sugar and peanut sauce, say spicy and a white mixture of chillies and other stuff is added. Say both and you get the trio. He wraps it up with a banana leaf and you jump for joy and screm to high heavens. Then put a comment on this piece with your location as I definitely want to taste that again.

19. Sebo (sub-genre: Fried Baga and Litid) : Directly translated, sebo means fat.Specifically, cold and solidified animal oil. Here’s what happens, a man has a small wok-like pan on one end of his bike-cart thing and a pot on the other. After frying chunks of beef fat in the pan, he drains and puts them into the pot. He proceeds to shower it with monosodium glutamate (banned in first world countries) and salt, then he covers the pan and shakes it with gusto. Most of the time, I actually waited for it to cook a whole batch was gone right after frying. I once consumed 50 pesos worth of this stuff. At that time, it was 5 pesos for a small sorbetes cup. He measured with the cup, dumped it into a small plastic bag as I wailed for additional pieces and put more salt into the bag. I “hanged” for more than two hours after consuming that much fat. I was dazed and unable to function or do anyting but stare at nothing while sitting in front of the sari-sari (variety) store. The only entry deserving a subgenre, there’s also the fried lung and tendons. Both on minute sticks and pre-fried, the lungs are black while the tendons are bright orage. You pick your sticks and throw them into the oil to reheat them. The vendor sometimes saves you of this hassle and pours hot oil over his fare. The thing about this pair is the dip. Sweet, vinegar and so based with finely chopped chillies. I have long tried to imitate the dip but I think I’m missing the core ingridient: jeepney exhaust.

20. Balut : The effin’ King of Pinoy street food is steamed unhatched duck eggs.Many foreigners and pompous socialites squeam at the site of the veined yellow yoke and almost black bird. There is nothing to improve on for this thing, cabron. Salt, spicy vinegar and a healthy blood pressure and you’ll taste the creamy yolk, the innard-like texture of the bird and for some, the hard, crumbly white I-don’t-know what-it’s-called-in-english bato. The greatest thing about balut is the juices. you crack open the wider part of the egg to make a small hole from where you suck the juice out. It’s like stewed duck, but a bit more diferent as the juice is embryonic fluid that is, well, so good I can’t find a western food-applicable adjective for it.

There you go amigos, The food of the streets that define the Filipino palate: eclectic, adventurous, anything but wasteful and full of flavor and unapologetic cholesterol. Street food offers the in-your-face truth of showing you how it’s created but with some mysteries that are as engaging as gypsies. The Filipino is not defined by Kamayan or Cabalen, the Juan who still takes home pansit is a Juan who knows that food should not be presumptuous or rentious. Chow, kain, lafang, banat. Call it whatever you like, but eat.

Hi boys and girls,

If anyone still reads the c_ap I put out, please proceed to www.a pisoforyourthoughts.blogspot.com , as that will be where my s_it will show up. This friendster blog just doesn’t work for me. Thanks.

The country we live in is peculiar. Note the obvious aversion to the word unique, as the term is local to all countries. Peculiar, though, connotes a certain funny aspect, a quirk or the multiple thereof of qualities that are either positive or negative, just, heck, weird.

If this article was done to list and expound on all of these quirks, this would be a three-part series in TIME. So let’s list three, which are contemporary and ingrained in our systems.

The first is that we are still sexist. Though not in the women-cannot-vote version, our sexist nature exists in more positive things: we call it chivalry. We open doors, pull chairs, pay bills, pine, and act like complete knights in shining armor for our women. The male populace’s perception of the fairer sex is still locked in the highest castle tower, waiting for Prince Charming or Pedro Penduko. This is good, if only women still held the same social roles they had in the time of Padre Damaso. We neglect the fact that times have changed and women are more proactive, career-oriented and strong willed. To the Filipino macho, she is still Maria Clara, feeble and fragile, a creature of whims and pleasures that a man has to provide for, take care of and parade. We respect them when they are our bosses, we follow their orders, but, in the back of our minds, we still don’t trust women, just look at how our reckless macho drivers regard women drivers: weak and lacking in aggression, and, may I add, traffic violations. No matter how far she has come, how she has conquered fields and professions traditionally gender-biased, even if we elected, eherm, her president of the country, the fact of the matter is: we still consider women the weaker sex.

Secondly, we take pride in the funniest things. We are proud of being the text capital of the world, daily and dutifully exchanging messages that are either jokes, inspirational or downright nonsensical, making, with each peso-worth text message or in the surge of text-based contests and promotions, communication conglomerates richer. We even develop text fads, strings of jokes that everyone can participate in, contributing various scenarios within a general concept, all in ideally 160 characters. We hold in high esteem a boxer with no world championship belt, in the largest malls that cover up the reality that most of the populace have no expendable income to spend in these gargantuan establishments. We boast of our indigenous materials, most of which are processed in foreign countries and resold to us at costs many times over what these countries bought it for, take the Nata de Coco for example, now one of the biggest exports of Japan. We glorify the newly lucrative Business Process Outsourcing, creating foreign-owned call centers in various business areas, with workers who are scared of the sun, overworked, butchering the English language our parents have masterfully wielded and paid about 20 percent of what their foreign counterparts make. Finally, and painfully, we seem to have mastered the art of manpower exportation. We revere our overseas workers. Treated badly in first world countries, like peons in the second, the dollars they remit will never make up for the utter decimation brain drain has wreaked on our local professions. Our countrymen, who have one doctor to 200, watch merrily as doctors become nurses; teachers, domestic helpers; architects, draftsmen; lawyers, paralegals in other countries, we couldn’t care less… as long as they bring home the Snickers candy bars.

Finally, and his one stands out as the most positive, as a people, we are able to laugh at ourselves. Take things that are normally hurtful and turn them into comical tirades that lunge at ego’s jugular, yet tickle the funny bone as well. We are naturally easily amused; just look at the noontime shows we watch. Our humor is rooted in self depreciation or insulting others. Those who oppose should take refuge in the laugh-a-minute comedy bars, where you pay gay men to insult you. Or you could always read the published jokes about our former-actor, presidential wristband toting deposed chief executive.

Which brings us to the suddenly serious, come-out-of-nowhere gist of this whole piece: Inday jokes. The recent reverberation of these Short Messaging Service (SMS) messages have outlived other similar joke strings: gone are chain texts, ERAPtions, Ederlyn (though she sometimes has cameo appearances), quoting inanimate objects and, my personal favorite, Boy Bastos. Making most Nokia cellular phones alert are the enigmatic Inday, Dodong, Junior, Mam and Amo. All representations of certain social classes flipped and mixed in an alternate universe where the maid outsmarts the employer. It has its own web log now, www.blogniinday.com, a collection of jokes from and outside the country; it serves as the home for all Inday discussions, getting 7000 visits per day. “At one point, the blog — which has the tag, "Ang sosyal na katulong" — placed sixth among the daily top 10 English blogs hosted by the California-based free blog provider WordPress.com.” (http://www.asianjournal.com/?c=187&a=24319)

In comparison, Inday shares some traits with Pol Medina Jr.’s Pugad Baboy’s Brosia; the maid of the Sungcal family, Brosia is quick witted and gifted with an acid tongue. Medina’s maid almost always wins in her tirade and tease battles with her employer, Mang Dagul. She is also courageous and breaks the mold of traditional house help, at times answering back and even ordering her employer, but most of the time simply being the biggest indispensable thorn in Mang Dagul’s side. The commonality ends there, though, as Brosia is effectively on the weak side in terms of intellect.

The humor of Inday jokes lies not in the command and highfalutin use of the English language, but in how she is knowledgeable and expository, able to show her intellect and befuddle people of seemingly higher social status. To imagine the stereotypical house maid showing as much pizzazz and suave as Inday in her exploits, conditions the readers and sets the stage for the pun of Inday’s intellectual affluence. Her staying power and relevance, though, lies much in contention. “These jokes are reflective of the long-standing low regard for our domestic workers,” said Visayas Forum Foundation deputy executive director Rolando Pacis. “While humor is appreciated once in a while, we must realize that it can also be an insidious medium for normalizing certain negative stereotypes…Is it really unusual and amusing when domestic workers are [portrayed as] smart in the jokes? Is there a presupposition that they are ignorant? Are maids that inconsequential and incapable of any intelligent discussion?”, (‘Inday’ jokes in English, smarter than ‘Eraptions’ Philippine Daily Inquirer 10/10/2007) while the self styled Inday manager, the blogger who put up www.blogniinday.com says “"I’m just a fan of Inday who thinks that she can be a Filipino icon portraying the modern Juan dela Cruz in the urban world". (http://www.asianjournal.com/?c=187&a=24319)

The question of social relevance, either negative or positive, is secondary to Inday jokes’ impact. For a text string to be publicized and debated in national dailies and even featured in Probe, the country’s leading investigative journalism show, bares the fact that the string has caused social discourse. Their meanings and effects are given serious thought: implications to the image of the Filipino domestic helper, of the Visayan people in general, of Filipinas. Not since ERAPtion has SMS messages been deliberately and seriously dissected. It is a folly to presume that Inday jokes remain to be such: jokes. They are to be enjoyed, yes, but their subtleties, albeit unintentionally, have touched a cord that we are very sensitive about: our prejudices as a people.

While the common concept of the classic Filipino house help is dim-witted, subservient, and uneducated, Inday is all of the flipside: confident and intelligent. Nenita “Ka Nitz” Gonzaga, Kilusang Mayo Uno vice president for women’s affairs puts it quite nicely when she said “We think it’s funny because we believe a maid like Inday is impossible. But then, is there such a real person as Inday’s employer, who can tolerate her ways? In bourgeois households, any maid who is — or tries to be — more intelligent than the employer is sure to get fired.”

The Filipino maid: a female, commonly from rural communities and regarded as a lesser member of society depicts perfectly Cheris Kramarae’s Muted Group Theory. “The language of particular culture does not serve all its speakers equally, for not all speakers contribute in an equal fashion to its formulation. Women (and members of other subordinate groups) are not as free or as able as men are to say what they wish, when and where they wish, because the words and the norms for their use have been formulated by the dominant group, men” (Kramarae in Griffin, 2000: 459)

Women, especially those from subordinate groups, are not taken seriously. They are patronized, but not generally truly heard. Corazon Aquino would never have been president had Ninoy Aquino not perish. Gloria Macapagal Arroyo replaced Joseph Estrada when he was ousted. The Muted Group Theory suggests that in order to gain acceptance of their messages, they “re-encode their thoughts to make them understood in the public domain” (Griffin, 2000). Mainstream communication has practically become Kramarae’s “malestream expression” in terms that though the majority of the buying public is composed of women, we still see the shameful proliferation of scantily-clad women in semi-vulgar, semi-accepted advertisements. Power in this society is in the form of heavy, highfalutin words, delivered with aggression and panache, much like Inday’s remarks and witticisms. Had Inday spoken in simpler and gentler, albeit no less poignant language, her jokes would have not become as popular as they are today.

Below are some of these jokes and the author’s digestion of their messages:

• “A change in the weather patterns might have occurred, wreaking havoc to the surroundings. The way the debris are scattered indicates that the gust of wind was going northeast causing damage to the path it was heading for.”

- Sagot ni Inday sa amo nung tinanong kung bakit nagkalat and basura sa likod ng bahay.

One of the earlier Inday jokes; it creates an image of calm and able knowledge. Faced with a normally irate question, Inday’s response is methodical, giving mind to causal factors, indicating a well-structured thought patterns, instead of a shy bowing to chastisement.

• “It’s absurd! It was never a fact that he will figure in a fight. I can handle schizophrenic kids in this educational institution. Revise your policies because it sucks”

-Inday kasama si Junior sa principal’s office… ang principal natulala!

Representing junior in school affairs in the absence of parents, here, Inday is the master of one-upmanship, berating even the principal, the highest official and revered persona in the institution. It is an uncommon, if not a refreshing twist, since the social norms are bastardized, ending in the befuddlement of the ultimate symbol of education: the school master. Subtly, it suggests of Inday’s affection for Junior, a mirror of how compassionate and attached the house help are of their employers, treating them as second families, fiercely defending them when in trouble.

• “Much as I want to indulge in the proliferation of such indecent and malicious information, I want to lift the stigma and alleviate society’s perception of our profession…”

- Inday, tumatangging makipagtsismisan sa katulong sa kabilang bahay…

Breaking stereotypes, Inday shows her class by not participating in a favorite afternoon among house help: gossip mongering. The stigma is there, perpetuated by television nannies and movie sidekicks. It reflects a degenerate image: the maid neglecting her duties, choosing to spend her time on the pointless activity that promotes social dissonance. Here, a negative trait is bluntly negated, making excellent point with intricate exposition.

• Ma’am: Inday, bakit ang daming rashes ni Junjun?

Inday: Because the allergens triggered the immune response. Eosinophillic migration occurs at the reaction site & there’s a sudden release of chemo taxis & anaphylotoxin including histamine & prostaglandins. These substances result to increased circulation at the site, thus, promoting redness…

As usual! Duguan na naman ilong ng ma’am ni Inday!

• Amo: Bakit mo binenta ‘yung sirang silya?

Inday: I have computed the chair’s fair value less cost to sell and the value in use using projections for five years and a pretax discount rate. Accordingly, the value in use is lower, so I decided to sell the chair. This is in accordance with PAS18 on Revenue, PAS 16 on PPE, and PAS 36 on impairment of Assets.

Amo, hinimatay. Si Inday, accountant din pala!

• Sumali si Junior sa isang Science Fair sa school nila at ‘di naiwasang tulungan s’ya ni Inday sa kanyang project. Pagdating ng araw, sinamahan s’ya ni Inday sa fair.

Teacher: Junior, please explain your work.

Nanahimik si Junior habang kinakalabit ang manggas ng blouse ni Inday

Inday: This is a newly researched contraption in which the mechanical energy exuded upon the camshaft by a series of centrifugal circles with weights that cause inertia and differentials that make the contraption tend to move perpetually with a touch of a fingertip. the force produced then overcomes the magnetic resistance of the alternating electric motor which I used as a dynamo. Once the pinion shaft of this dynamo starts its curvilinear motion that brings about torque and momentum, an alternating Current or more popularly termed as ‘AC’ is formed. This current then passes through the Forward-biased diode, then thus, light energy is formed from mechanical energy…

Teacher: *Laglag panga* (www.blogniinday.com)

• Nagpaplanong magtatag ng bagong business ang amo ni Inday…

Realty Agent: Sir, ito na po ‘yung 20sq.m na warehouse na ibebenta ko sa inyo at a reasonable price… 2.6 M lang po sir…

Amo: Hmm, it seems like a good deal… Wait lang ha, tanong ko lang sa maid namin. What can you say Ms. Binayubay?

Inday: Enough with the senseless blabbering you unscrupulous scoundrel. I have findings that you have not provided us with a 20 sq.m warehouse, rather a smaller one, at only 18.4 sq.m. I have surveyed by pacing the lot and the use of this theodolite and that stadia rod erected by my Rodman.

Napatunganga na lang ang amo pati ang agent.

Inday: Moreover, the truss patterns are pretty conspicuous. As the principles and theories of steel design states, the most stable and suitable shape for a truss is a triangle, yet I have seen this topsy-turvy pattern of squares littered in-between these trusses. I even witnessed several cantilever type booms that don’t even have guy wires to hold them in place. In addition to this, you have not used an anti-rust agent, or even an activated carbon wash to prevent and remove rust from the vertical truss members.

Tuluyang nang dumugo ang ilong ng realty agent. Pero ‘di pa tapos si Inday…

Inday: Also, as the building code suggests in the article on sloping ground, it is required that only a 10% slope or less be used for the flooring level, but to my knowledge, this is not a 10% slope, rather a 30% slope, that may bring about accidents to workers that will be coming and working in this area. To top it all off, the steel has sheered through, have you not calculated the wind load upon the roof aside from the dead and live loads that grace the area? as you can see…

Inilabas na ni Inday ang kanyang Macbook.

Inday: In this Program called STAAD, we can see how your structure will react to certain events. We can see here that even just a mild 30kph wind with the area load of 1KiloNewton may knock down this warehouse.

But wait, there’s more…

Inday: In addition, the 2.6 M price range is outrageous. As I have heard from the municipal engineer of this area, the lot this structure is sitting on cost just about 15,000 pesos per sq.m only, bringing in a property tag of 300,000 pesos. With the realty tax of 50% for industrial-oriented lots, we reach a net price of 450,000 pesos. Now, as you can see, other than that, the appraisal of the engineers aside from me that I consulted only bring the value a little higher than one million pesos. At exactly P1,240,000.50, isn’t it unfair to ask 2.6M from us when at most, you’ll most probably fetch around 1.3 million for this property. Your scam is ridiculous, tormented weasel. Be gone, or I will have to charge you with lawsuit of estafa, malpractice, and numerous offenses against the building code of the Philippines as provisioned by the P.D. 220 and enacted by R.A. 6541 under the title “The National Building Code of the Philippines”….

Biglang nawala ang Realty Agent

Amo: Whoa… *laglag panga*

Inday: And from here, I rest my case… (www.blogniinday.com)

• … A fundamental question of longstanding theoretical interest is to prove lower bounds on the complexity and exact operation counts of Fast Fourier transforms, and many open problems remain. It is not even rigorously proved whether DFTs truly require Ω(NlogN) (i.e., order NlogN or greater) operations, even for the simple case of power of two sizes, although no algorithms with lower complexity are known….

- tinu-tutor ni Inday sa digital signal processing ang kapatid ng kanyang amo na si Mark na nagma-masters sa LaSalle. (www.blogniinday.com)

• Ano ang sinabi ni DR. J.P Rizal kay Inday?

Rizal: Inday, ang hindi magmahal sa sariling wika ay mas masahol pa sa malansang isda.

Inday: Thank you for your wonderful words of wisdom, but don’t you know that I already read all your writings, unfortunately, I was really disappointed, because majority of your novels were written in Spanish and Latin. So, therefore, you are the ultimate violator of your own aphorism…

-Si Inday! Pati si Rizal kinalaban! Ü

Wielding her superior knowledge, Inday shows her many areas of expertise. This illustrates a common plot in these jokes: a simple answer is met by a meticulously precise response, followed by the inability of the recipient to comprehend or respond to Inday. The above jokes emphasize Inday’s exaggeratedly impressive grasp of accounting, engineering and architectural, historical, technological, mathematical and scientific principles and complexities. She is able to site provisions, formulas and restrictions on the merest provocation and deliver them in a manner astute academicians would be envious of. These jokes are beyond oratorical flattery, we are not simply seeing an excessively smart maid, but a prodigious one. The humor would have been diluted in all the jargon, but what keeps these jokes going is the essence of Inday jokes: she surpasses professionals; graduate students, realtors and teachers, even the national hero. An underdog mentality wholly accepted to be a part of the Filipino psyche.

• Inday & Ederlyn nuong grade 2.

Ederlyn: Oi anong ulam mo?

Inday: Fillet ala el Niño

Ederlyn: Wow, sosyal. Mukhang masarap, ano ‘yun?

Inday: Stupid (expletive deleted)! Tuyo!

Ederlyn, another SMS-borne character, is assimilated into the Inday lore as a secondary character, whose wits are a paltry compared to Inday’s. Symbolically, it’s the affirmation that the Inday string has surpassed this Ederlyn’s weak chain, but most importantly, Ederlyn provides a foil, a comparison to Inday’s superiority. Ederlyn is a common woman, without any cultural markers, nothing to identify her to any group or class. This also returns Inday to her realities: she is underprivileged yet proud.

Consul: Why do you want to go to the US?

Amo: To travel, visit friends and ride the airplane

Consul: Denied! And you?

Inday: For life is a never ending pursuit of material and social satisfaction that will tender my great intent of actualizing a transpacific journey the land of milk and honey. An affable sanctuary where dreams become reality and a perfect habitat where souls like mine can reach the pedestal of freedom.

Consul: Lifetime multiple entry visa granted!

Inday holds her own, and impresses first-language speakers of her chosen language. Interpreted further, this may be taken as esteem from powerful nations, as Inday vies for respect, we can reflect on the plight for international recognition millions of our overseas country men themselves strive for.

• Korean: Anyong haseo, korean konsamida!

Translator: Siya daw po ay isang Korean..

Amo: Aah ok. Inday, pakitimpla nga kami ng juice

Nagtimpla si Inday ng juice at bumalik sa kanyang amo…

Inday: Sir here’s your juice. (Iniabot din ang isa sa Korean) Hi, it’s my pleasure to bestow you this juice..

Amo: O Inday ‘wag mo na siyang inglesin, mukhang ‘di nakakaintindi.

Inday: Anyong haseo! Inday konsamida, oppa gum nobo yi gawa Philippines? Ah ampoko.. yabuseo.

Amo: (expletive deleted) ka Inday lahat na alam mo!

She is dynamic, able to adapt to situations and cultures, much like the whole country.

• “She thinks that she’s the only homosapien that can utter such euphonic statements? She might want to think again!”

-Rosing, katulong sa kabilang bahay na galit kay Inday!

Proving the string’s longevity, the plot evolves and brings in new characters. There are spin-offs, like Manang’s Spanish quotations. Inday develops an adversary, another fluent maid, ridding the string of Inday’s singularity, delving on the idea that many of the house help she represents are not the illiterates society paints them to be. More than the rising of an anti-hero, it is the break from the prejudices that pushes the strings forward.

• “Ang sarap mag-Nescafe kapag umuulan no?”

-Kim Chiu

“But I prefer Starbucks.”

-Inday

• “Junior, why do you keep watching that show with the hydrocephalic burn victim? Oh, that poor kid…”

-Inday, nadatnan si Junior nanunuod ng Kokey.

Inday is commercial, she is now. Hinting of how she represents the modern discriminated sector; she is cool and aware of the trends.

• Y’all chill if ya don’t want me to call the cops! Ya see (snaps), it’s our turf y’all are kicking it on, so mess with me and I’ll kick yo hairy behinds home! Y’all dig that? Now get the heck outta my face bra! (slams the gate)

- Banat ni Inday n’ung sinugod ng Crips ang alaga niyang si Junior na member ng Bloods

Forgive me, this one’s just hella funny.

“It’s 4 AM and I need to get off from bed. If I have to change the world and make it a better place, what perfect moment than to do it now. When you just sense the need to do things you love, it won’t make you feel enslaved.”

- Inday, alas-kwatro ng umaga, kinakausap ang sarili bago bumangon sa kama. (www.blogniinday.com)

Treating Inday as a character: more a symbol with a distinct personality yet malleable traits shows Sherry Turkle’s Subject theory, which explains that the “avatar” or “fictive identity” and its relationship to the “real” person is not that very important. Inday departs from any “real” house help, but becomes an icon for them. To discuss Inday as one would discuss a living, breathing maid would mix up the underlying concepts essential to giving meaning to this string, much like how treating them as innocent jokes would undermine any real understanding to their relevance. She transcends, in various different ways, reality. Her fabricated accomplishments, really a collection of knowledge from different sources, are simply too far fetched to actually take to academic consideration.

“From the point of view of the medium itself, to seek to understand the avatar’s behavior by establishing a link between that avatar and (a real) identity will tell us very little compared to understanding the way identity is formed within the medium itself” (Turkle in Homes, 2005:142). SMS is a faceless, voiceless medium ruled by words. This removes any aesthetic need to fit into a mould, giving Inday a free range of nuances, essential to any good icon. She is everything and anything, but contained in a semi-specific persona. Her relationship to real house help, nay, her commonalities to them, need not be delved on. Since the real subject of discussion is how she was created in such an anonymous and interactive medium.

SMS messaging is short of all-encompassing for Filipinos, every social class has access to the service as proven by lower and lower charges telecommunications companies charge for the service. It is the prevalent mode of communication because it’s cheap, efficient and fast. Beyond practical economics, text messaging has created a communication culture. Anonymous users can create whatever image they want, devoid of visual or even auditory markers, they can be anyone. “Clans” have been formed due to the unlimited texting services; members are from the same cellular service provider, exchanging messages and widening their social circles via the service. From the telephone party lines and internet chat rooms, virtual socialization has moved on and expanded to the SMS realm. As technology progressed, the “real” identities of participants have become more and more a vague notion, creating a construct that trades purely in images and avatars. This symbolic nature of text messaging has become the communication strength of the Inday symbol. Faceless and voiceless, she is every marginalized sector the voice that takes on and improves on male dominated communication channels. A viable example of Medium theory which “typically looks at how the position of the communicants and the information communicated is determined by different media. But it also suggests something quite radical and different from transmission accounts—the possibility that individuality itself is (at least partially) an effect of a medium. In this view there are no pre-given subjects with an experience of the real. There are no transcendental contexts which pre-exist other contexts and determine how they are experienced” (pp. 140-141). Holmes, D. (2005). Communication theory: Media, technology, and society. London: SAGE.

Inday’s messages, fresh and attention-hungry, are channeled through a medium that fits it perfectly. Text messaging is a foundry for reshaping ideas, innovative symbols and icons. The medium is unbound by standards; it is purely subjective and personal. Anyone can partake in its revision and progress. It has even spawned its own vocabulary; dictated by the length of messages, consonants have been dropped and numbers have replaced syllables. The technology is changing as fast as its users are adapting to it, offering more varied means of communicating through the cellular phone. Multimedia Messaging Service, or MMS, has brought image and sound exchanges, widening the field even more. No communication channel since the cheapening of landline telephone services have has as much wide a reach and as dynamic a culture as SMS messaging.

The Inday text string does not offer any new ideas; it simply opens them to discussion. More than righteous indignation at current suppositions towards marginalized sectors, the relevance of the string is founded upon the fact that is has sparked national attention to a neglected and denied truth that is gender and class bias. The assumptions toward maids and women in general are not being replaced, merely contested and changed. “For contemporary Marxist perspectives on the media, the culture industry is an ‘industry’ in itself… it is a site of the reproduction of existing social relations—particularly class divisions, but also the divisions of gender, ethnicity and race. The Marxist approach is therefore interested in the meanings that are negotiated within the media, and its influence in the reproduction of forms of consciousness that accord with the reproduction of capitalist social relations” Holmes, D. (2005). Communication theory: Media, technology, and society. London: SAGE. (25-26). Communication is predominantly the art of exchange of messages, and the Inday string opens formerly hard-set ideas for change.

The fact that the jokes have continued and are even evolving into specific stories, with loose plots and characters is not only a confirmation of Inday’s social impact, but also of how the stereotype is deeply rooted in our psyches, thus its continuing humor. As long as we Filipinos are proud of the queerest things, such as our masticated form of chivalry, as long as we laugh hardest when we’re laughing at ourselves, Inday will embarrass us with her expository brilliance.

Nilabas ni Inday ang bulletin na ito para sagutin ang mga nagrereklamo sa kanyang pagiging sikat:

TO WHOM IT MAY CONCERN:

I would like to take exception to the unwanted and unsolicited opinions that my popularity is not good to the name and standing of all Pinay maids, in particular, and the whole Filipino people, in general. To my detractors, I say stop your derogatory, if not envious, bent. I’m proud of being a maid. The work may be menial but it is honorable. I urge my idol and manay Miriam to call for a bicameral investigation in aid of legislation regarding this matter.

Sincerely,
Inday
(taray talaga!) (www.blogniinday.com)

I know, I know, normally, we write about something BIG. Marriages, new lover, new shoes, old heartaches reopening like photoalbums you though you threw away.

You know, things that are extraordinary, things that matter.

But last night, for me, mattered. For the first time in I don’t know how long… I have been able to exist in a noctrunal social gathering without getting readily-available alcohol in my system. Lemme translate: Gumimik ako nang hindi umiinom!!!

Wow. It felt great. From 9pm-3am, I sat there drinking juice. I went through two glasses of Kalamansi and a glass of Mango juice. By 12pm, my knees were shaking and I just wanted to raise my hand and make eye contact with the waiter, to show him my hand gestures that are all oh so familiar. The "L" sign followed by the number of bottles I need.

But, you know what, I poured all the concentration I had onto forgetting how alcohol makes me feel that the night is complete. I know, I know, I have lessened my drinking, but I have never been able to not have at least three bottles in one night out. This was a first, and that’s why I’m writing about it.

Wait… as to the "why", I have my reason. And I’d like to keep that to myself.

I was at Zirkoh Timog, watching the Talentadings, Kool Jacks Band and Wally Bayola perform. I was with about 11 people, one of whom is a recently "saved" housemate. He doesn’t drink as much anymore, hell, he hardly drinks, he doesn’t smoke no more, and we got to talking about how one survives a night out without alcohol. There was a precedence to his change: another friend of mine gave up drinking completely, because of religious reasons and as he believes; love. Naks. We prodded this Muslim friend of ours for hours on end, we even tried tricking him into drinking, but hot dang, he didn’t flinch.

So, last night, I tried it. I wanted to give it a go for quite sometime, and last night gave me sufficient motivation to.

It was damn hard.

If it hadn’t been a comedy bar with a show to keep me busy, I would’ve buckled under the pressure, that I would amit. Mango juice judt didn’t give me the same feeling of "loose-ness" that I have with beer. But, what it did give me, was a sense of clarity, an astute sense of what was happening. Before, I used to think beer googles improved the gimmick, loosened inhibitions,you know,the blood of the party. Now, at least; I think, they were worn because the night sucked, and I needed them to enjoy.

Next challenge: Continue this streak, now hopefully in a club, maybe drop my drinking to two bottles for the whole night? Whaddya guys think?

Next next thing: Smoking. Yes, I will try. Hot dang I will.

But I will still drink ’til I’m smashed. Only for my real friends, and only for the right reasons. For Marvin and Bojji: because they’re there is always the right reason. hahahaha.

Pucker sweet lips into an unchained melody.

Lifelessness becomes life

a seaside of emotions,

mile-long in crystal sand and ice-water skies.

A perfect imperfection,

her eyes.

A safe innuendo,

her kiss.

I am sand and cacti and rough lizard skin.

She is salty breeze and white wave peaks.

We are a christening of the daybreak,

and the burial of sunset.

The grime on my face is oil grease,

the hue of her cheeks is Emura.

Her feet never touch the ground

while mine dig in to it.

The city is our cradle,

its lights our eyes.

The horns and honks

our songs,

avenues and boulevards the veins

in which our blood travails,

the crime and happenstance

our fate.

This blue marble spins and father time keeps getting old.

But the look of fantasy remains the same.

Tomorrow is a sleeping giant in the west,

Yesterday, a glad elder brother grinning.

And today, sweet today…

is a lover loved not.

(A writer-friend of mine asked me write a poem. I know he never expected me to write this. Hahahaha. Boo-yah!)

There are times when friends come over, especially couples, when we just lounge around my living room to watch some DVDs or just gather ’round and talk. Normally, these are in the afternoons, when everything is such at a lazy pace. Then they get weird. They cuddle and poke at each other like I aint there. They nuzzle each other and stroke hairs and arms, even massage their partners. I have no trouble with this… But it makes me think about finally having someone I could spend lazy afternoons again. You know, just hanging around at my place or hers, probably cooking lunch, then just three or four hours or useless, pointless, but utterly enjoyable time. I won’t forget that relationships are, at times, gauged by the momentous occasions, that first date, the first kiss, the first fight… you know, stuff you remember. But for me, the things I cannot live without are the smaller things. The time when you’re sick and she’s right there, grateful that she’s with you though you’re nose is running. Or the times you got no money, and all you guys have for dinner are the canned goods people have in their cupboards. Just working on stuff, just being together. School or work, the work don’t matter, it’s just the hours on end you spend together, in serene, comfortable silence. Or the time when she has something on her mind, but just won’t tell you. And she comes over or asks you to come over. And in your little head, you know something’s up, but you feign innocence and admit that the only thing you can do to help her is be with her. Oh… that’s the time I love. Because those are the times, she becomes extra caring, and you become extra-aware just how damn lucky you are you have her, and vice versa. Sigh.

First and foremost, on the Pacquiao vs. Barrera fight. A commentary would be that it was one of the most boring matches Pacman has fought. Barrera didn’t give a valiant stand, he ran around the ring most of the time. On a sports persepective: it shows that Manny beat an over-the-hill fig hter. Let’s face it, Barrera was not his physical best and was not on the top of his game. Ever seen his previous fights? He was a madman, he fought from the inside and clocked his opponents with precise power punches, not run towards their weak side all throughout the match. On a political perspective, I wish Pacman loses. Seriously. I hope he loses. He become more a political poster boy that what he should really be: a sporting hero. The administratio n has used Manny and his exploits to position the administratio n as pro-unity, even having the fighter sing a horrendous song about nationalism and having him tell all the reporters he was fighting for national solidarity in all of his substantial interviews. (Is it just me or did he start having that political theme when he won the Erik Morales II fight and was wasked to do a courtesy call to Malacañang?) On the UAAP La Salle win. Nothing can make me gladder. Seriously. Past all the hooplah surrounding the championship, it still shows that mere talent and might will not win championships. The UE Red Warriors trampled through the opposition in the eliminations but showed their flaws when they were sweeped by a team which had to fight their way to the finals in three grueling matches with rival Ateneo. If that championship wasn’t the epitome of the saying "bilog ang bola", I don’t know what is. On the SAN BEDA BACK2BACK CHAMPIONSHIPS. Allow me my Reach Trinidad moment: MABUHAY ANG SAN BEDA! GO SAN BEDA FIGHT! FOR SAN BEDA, OUR COUNTRY, AND GOD!!! MABUHAY ANG SAN BEDA! GO SAN BEDA FIGHT! FOR SAN BEDA, OUR COUNTRY, AND GOD!!! MABUHAY ANG SAN BEDA! GO SAN BEDA FIGHT! FOR SAN BEDA, OUR COUNTRY, AND GOD!!! MABUHAY ANG SAN BEDA! GO SAN BEDA FIGHT! FOR SAN BEDA, OUR COUNTRY, AND GOD!!! MABUHAY ANG SAN BEDA! GO SAN BEDA FIGHT! FOR SAN BEDA, OUR COUNTRY, AND GOD!!! MABUHAY ANG SAN BEDA! GO SAN BEDA FIGHT! FOR SAN BEDA, OUR COUNTRY, AND GOD!!! MABUHAY ANG SAN BEDA! GO SAN BEDA FIGHT! FOR SAN BEDA, OUR COUNTRY, AND GOD!!! MABUHAY ANG SAN BEDA! GO SAN BEDA FIGHT! FOR SAN BEDA, OUR COUNTRY, AND GOD!!! Sorry, red-blooded Lion forever. The rumor mill has told me the Juniors team will have a new, 15-yr-old, 6′8, Garnett-clon e player from Mindanao next year and that we’ll have another exchange student for the seniors soon. Yeba mga repa!