Hello, i'm back...sort of

It's been quite a while since I last posted and since then, as the cliche goes, a lot has happened.

The hubby had a second go at it, this time for a higher, nay the highest position, and despite all efforts, he didn't make it.  Unlike the first time it happened, we were ready for any eventuality yet we also worked so much harder.  Literally, blood, sweat and tears were poured into the campaign.  Everybody thought, this was it, the mighty would soon fall and it would come in the form of a David, for we had nothing then but the support and love of the people.

But it was not to be and in the aftermath, vindictiveness came swiftly.  People lost livelihoods. Threats were made and carried out.  How long can they take it before the lure of money would lose its effect, only time can tell but definitely it is not now.

Meanwhile, life goes on but with a heavy heart I feel for those left behind.

Lovely Pinangat

I have never been a lover of vegetables and I have my mother to attest to that. Childhood memories of watering down ampalaya with lost of water during mealtimes when we were not allowed to leave the table without munching down the de riguer greens in our plates comes to mind.

Yet, there was something about this dish that had me at first bite (apologies to whatever uhhm, similarities to other original lines). It threw all my preconceived notions of veggies as bitter greens that are necessary inconveniences to our food life out the window. Oh, there are a few exceptions, I do like the fresh lumpia and ginisang monggo of my dear Mama and Lola but my relationships with these dishes are lukewarm at best. Not for this gata (coconut milk) based specialty of Catarman, Northern Samar. It is just as hot as the food itself and had me stalking (literally) the small carenderia near our home that offered the best version in town for me to grab it ahead of waiting customers. Its sold out in a matter of hours, nay minutes. While there are pretenders, this one is the genuine deal as its cook is a true-blue Catarmanon.

What am raving about? Well its no other than the pinangat, a vegetable dish wrapped in gabi leaves and smothered/cooked in coconut milk. Its spicy hot but that does not deter me from savoring what seems to be its successful mixture of bitter, sweet and salty zing.

I'm not a food writer and honestly, I'm no mean cook but I can write "tasty", "delicious", "addicting" in a sentence and say it with much passion and fervor just to convey how much this dish has got me hooked.

Actually, there is the pinangat of Bicol, but yet, I still say this is better. Finally, now I know why some friends I know always ask this as pasalubong when someone visits the town of Catarman.

The Fresh Bounty of the Sea that is GUIUAN

The imposing wooden doors of a centuries-old church in Guiuan, Eastern Samar

San Antonio de Padua Church in Sulangan, Guiuan, E. Samar

Souvenir shops in front of the church

The waves of Calico-an

Tilang, a shellfish we had for dinner, still alive and its shell

Where some of us stayed

The entrance

The homey living area of La Luna

The balcony just outside the rooms

Dried eel reputed to be an aphrodisiac@P800/kg

The grounds of Banago Resort

The early morning view of Leyte Gulf from the balcony

I recently went to the island of Sulangan which is part of the town of Guiuan, Eastern Samar. It is there where the pilgrim church of San Antonio de Padua is located. The saint is known for his intercession to many a pilgrims who endure the 3 hour ride from Tacloban City. This was my third trip to the island, however, whereas my previous ones were all day trips, this time I stayed for two whole days and got to savour so many things that the island and Guiuan had to offer.

Being surrounded by the sea in all three sides, Guiuan and its outlying island barangays are blessed with so much of its bounty. Indeed it must be, that on the day God decided to distribute the treasures of the ocean, Guiuan must have standing in front of the line. Aside from the freshest catch, here you see the majestic beauty of the waves of the Pacific ocean making it the rising surf capital of Eastern Visayas.

This is one place where you get your fill of shells,eels, fish, crabs, and prawns of all shapes and sizes. During our first night, a repast of sea food dishes greeted us which included ginata-an na tilang, a shell which I saw and tasted for the first time. Really yummy. We also had raw oysters in vinegar and coconut milk, sweet fish kinilaw and crabs in gata all fresh from the sea.

We stayed at the Banago Resort and La Luna beach resort, owned by an American-Filipino and Italian-Filipino couples, respectively. Banago had six rooms all in one big house with amenities such as a shower, air conditioning and cable TV. But its biggest selling point is the beachfront on the Leyte gulf side of the island which stood just a few meters away. You could dine al fresco under the stars, which we did, with coral sands at your feet. On the other hand, La Luna Resort had a more "beachy" native design and was much smaller in scale yet with just as many rooms. It was also near the beach and had a bar and a few tables lying about the beachfront. Really, work in this surroundings hardly makes it so.

Getting to Guiuan one can take the vans for hire for the 3 hour trip from Tacloban City. It takes another 30 to 40 minutes to get to Sulangan from Guiuan. For those unwilling to endure the long land trip, there is a weekly flight from Cebu to Guiuan and vise-versa.

Constant Companions

My loot of books

I am without a doubt a lover of books. I said so as much when I entered an article in a writing contest in a national daily for which I got a gift certificate to a book chain. In my much younger years I would read almost everyday and for the better part of it to boot. I would get lost in the world of of the written word and come up only for air and for nourishment (Of course I exaggerate).

But in the daily grind of everyday living my reading habit has been reduced to a once in a month frequency. Such a far cry during my childhood and post adolescent years when a book a day was common stance.

Now as before, it is still suspense thrillers, mystery novels and basic whodunits that fill my reading fare. Owing to the limited time I have to browse and buy, I've narrowed my list to the three which are my favorites: Dame Agatha Christie, Mary Higgins Clark and John Grisham. In that particular order.

Ms. Christie never fails to whirl me in and so far I have read almost all of her novels. The same is true for Ms. Clark, however, it is the former who to my mind is more brilliant with her perfect characterizations and mood settings. As you go through her books you feel that her characters are so real you start to picture them. The plot itself is astounding, with enough twists and turns that keep you guessing till the end. Yet what lends distinction to her tomes is the uncanny way that Ms. Christie re-creates everything, from the mood, the place to the characters in a way that comes so alive to the reader. In my eyes, she is till unsurpassed and decades after her death I still has to see an equal.

Sunzibar, Mexican Resto in the City

Nachos

The "melt-in-your-mouth" ribs with rum sauce

They say in the food business and all other businesses for that matter location is the one of the keys to success. Which explains the exodus of most food establishment to the Mall that has sprung up in the city three years ago. I agree, but add, such is not always the case. My theory is this: once a joint has established its loyal clientele and firmly ensconced its reputation as a provider of good food at reasonable prices, it becomes immune to the real estate shifts. Customers keep coming back, never mind that its location has become almost like a ghost town. Such is the case of the restaurant my friends from high school and law school and I paid a visit to last night.

It had been almost two years since I've last been to Sunzibar, the restaurant ran by the family of award-winning writer-visual artist Merlie Alunan on Burgos St.. I discovered that it had already moved next door to a much bigger location but still it had retained its quaint ambiance of a casual Mexican dining resto. When we got inside last Tuesday night, the place had only a few diners but a short while later it became full to the brim, i.e. all tables were taken. Obviously, the move was made to accommodate a bigger crowd and that night it was a mix of families, couples, barkadas and even solitary figures.

There were only a few noticeable changes such as the new brighter interior painting and a wooden double door carved in an interesting design. It welcomed you to cream colored wooden stools and tables. The interiors are still very much laid back and bears witness to the streak of artistry than runs in the family of its owners. The children of Ms. Alunan are visual artists and this is evident in the wall paintings that adorn the place. The painting of the Madonna done in semi-abstract on the right side wall when you enter the restaurant is one of the things that catches your eye. Yes, its paintings galore as the place doubles as a gallery for the pieces of the Alunan-Wenceslao brood.

But of course, all these are but supporting cast to what is truly the star of the show, the FOOD. Their nachos are divine and so are their rice dishes. Last night, we had the crowd favorite. "Beef rum ribs" good for two". The price of Php345.00 which already includes rice, two raspberry iced tea and salad is more than reasonable, its a steal. The ribs are indeed melt in your mouth and has a sweet aftertaste. I was kinda wary of ordering it as I would share it with a friend who share the same waistline as mine. But for two "healthy" and robust ones likes us, there were still some left.

Capped with fine conversation that centered on the ongoing impeachment trial of the Chief Justice and the very much in the news wrangling over the remains of a former presidential brother-in-law between live-in lover and "I am the legal wife" woman who goes by the names Grace and Aleli, respectively, it was a much relaxing evening indeed.

2012, Year of the Dragon..Welcome...

Before anything else, let me greet each and everyone a very Happy New Year. Let me also express me thanks to my small (actually very small) group of readers for continuing to take the time to make comments on my posts. You all make my day everytime I open this blog, but, I regret I have again been very negligent. Despite a 2011 New Year's resolution to post more, just like other resolutions, its been broken. I have been just quite taken with other pursuits that have demanded much of my time one such pursuit being taking care of my second child.

So I make again a resolution to be more active in this blog, hopefully I get to keep it.

So on to other things. A look at the year that was and hopes and expectations of the year that is 2012.

I would say I had a much better time in 2011 than in 2010. Much of course was due to a more optimistic mindset and enlightened view of looking at my blessings more than what I still hoped to have.

Our baby E_ _ was born amidst a medical emergency that almost threatened my life. She was two weeks premature but thanks to a very competent OB-GYNE and pediatrician, Dr. A and Dr. C, both mother and baby came out fine. Despite coming out earlier than expected, E_ _ was quite big and occupied the whole of the incubator. You never would have thought she was born premature.

Prior to delivery via Caesarian section, I was quite apprehensive, worried as I was about her under-developed lungs. This despite the fact that I had been taking medicines to fast track E_ _'s breathing sacs. Hearing her cry out loud when she was taken out of my womb was the sweetest things I ever heard as it told me everything was alright with her, at least as far as her breathing was concerned.

It was also last year that slowly our home started to "take shape". The balustrade and bannister were added to the stairs and rooms in the second floor were put up. A garden laboriously set up by the hubby added some beauty to a house that had been years in the making. It felt good to hear the nice comments from visitors and while a lot has still to be done, am quite satisfied of our home sweet home.

B_ _ also added to my joys as she made it to the top ten in all four sections of her grade in school.

And of course, the best news of all, I lost ten pounds!!!! Hahaha. Which, the holidays have me getting it back again.

It was also the year of lost and renewed friendships. I learned that nothing is gained by too much pride and nothing is lost when you understand, forgive as well as accept that you made a mistake too.

So this 2012, I know not to expect too much but just hope for the best. To widen my understanding and be more tolerant of other's shortcomings because I know I myself have plenty of them too. To be more patient because He has a grand plan for all of us and we just need to wait..

My Kalanggaman

The rates


Snorkeling time


The kiosks


The disappearing sand bar


A view from the our approaching banca

White, fine, powdery sand, clear blue waters and palm trees that waved in the softly blowing wind. These scene stood out in my friends' Facebook pictures and I knew i just had to go and see for myself this island paradise that had remained unknown until social networking and word-of-mouth plucked it from relative obscurity. Until then, the island was mostly frequented by locals who selfishly kept this treasure to themselves. But this beauty of a place could not stay hidden for long. Soon most everyone in Eastern Visayas were braving the 45 minute boat trip from Palompon, Leyte to splash in its waters and take numeous pictures that soon got posted on the Internet contributing to its growing fame.

And so it was that I added another title to my cap, from lawyer, public servant, wannabe writer, and blogger I became an instant tour organizer. It was out of necessity as the hubby adamantly refused to accompany me and my family was not so interested to take a trip to Kalanggaman Islet anywhere in the near foreseeable future. That left me with people from the office. I had to drum up the interest of enough office mates to make an excursion worth my organizing self. And I did. There were 17 of us who signed up including 3 young German volunteers who were just so excited after seeing pictures of the place on the Net.

We encircled a date that ran smack into a brewing typhoon. Luckily for us it was way up north where we here in the south could hardly feel its effects except for occasional winds that ruffled trees. The night before we were still unsure if the trip would push through. The breeze was getting stronger. We texted each other and we all agreed we will wait till morning to decide.

Come 4 a.m. and the weather seemed fine.It was definitely a go.

We left Tacloban for Palompon at about 5:45 a.m. and reached the town's outskirts at about quarter to eight in the morning. We then went straight to the Palompon eco-tourism office which managed all trips to the island. There we met the amiable Cristopher whom I had made arrangements and reservations with for our transport to the island days earlier on the phone. He received our entrance fees and led us to the boat we were to ride which to our our dismay was too small for comfort. Too late to realize that after we had already given up our reserved bigger boat to a larger group after supplications from Cristopher. Anyway, small boat or not, we were determined to go and chalked up our now regretted moment of generosity to experience.

The waters were so calm during the 45 minute trip from Palompon to Kalanggaman itself and we entrirely forgot about the typhoon that made landfall somewhere in Cagayan Valley. We would rudely be reminded of its presence some hours later. Soon the island came into view and we were not disappointed. It exceeeded our expectations and we were full of "ohs" and "ahs" as we jumped to shore. Powdery white sand that would give Boracay a run for its money (well, I exaggerate, my friend said the ones in Boracay are finer but Kalanggaman came close).

The blue-green waters were son inviting and in no time we were swimming and jumping in its shores. Surprisingly, the water felt cool despite the heat from the midday sun. The sand bar was amazing. Here waves coming from different directions clashed and sent up waves and ripples. Because of the undertow, swimming is strictly prohibited near the sand bar.

Swimming is not the only activity one can engage in in Kalanggaman. You can go snorkeling on one side of the island and watch the teeming sea life below. Snorkeling and diving equipment are provided by the eco-torism office for a fee. Diving, however, is limited to those who hold valid diving licenses.

You may also watch the beautiful sunset which, regretfully we did not get to see as we went home by 3 pm.

As I said, the island is quite small, reason why the local government regulates its visitors to 300 at any given time. Due to its size, its ecological balance could easily be upset with an uncontrolled nukber of people coming to its shores. The present facilities of Kalangagaman blends well with its surroundings and is limited to the most basic of comforts. There is no electricity and water system is non-existent. You have to bring in your own barrels of water for drinking and bathing. There is a smattering of kiosks which are spaced well enough apart. In my opinion, to add more would be ill-advised.

Despite its semi-primitiveness and lack of creature comforts, Kalanggaman is definitely one place worth coming back too. In fact, we felt that one day was not enought and an overnight stay is recommended to truly enjoy to the fullest the island.

We all made a promise to return and one we are keen to keep with memories and pictures to spur us on.

Muc Ado About Sangyaw and the Sidelights

The contingent from the municipality of Almeria, Biliran

Don't they look cute?

A very colorful contingent

The kid obligingly gave me a smile



The whole gown is made of the native material "banig"



The Patron Saint of Tacloban, Senyor Sto. Ninyo

After spawning a Temporary Restraining Order (TRO), and a much ballyhooed stand off between local traffic enforcers on one hand and provincial officials, mayors, the "other" festival parade organizers on the other, the yearly "official" Sangyaw parade of the city fiesta started on a late note on June 29, 2011. Following "Filipino" time, the 1 o'clock scheduled start of the parade was not followed and it began at almost 2 p.m.

My small delegation of kibitzers consisting of the hubby, daughter B_ _, sister-in-law, my mom, and our "pinapa-eskwela" went in early downtown to secure a limited and in demand parking space for our ancient AUV. The heat was quite much so we had to turn on the aircon intermittently. To add to our woes, a not-too-nice-smell of a run-over dead cat permeated the air were. So, there, we got cooped up as early as 10:30 a.m.. amidst such not so comfortable conditions, so you understand my introductory rant to this post. The parade better be worth it, I mumbled to myself.

However, early on, I was beginning to regret bringing my family to watch as I saw delegations upon delegations of this and that organization. I expected a cultural parade and not an "Alay Lakad" as one kibitzer so sarcastically put it. Finally, after about almost a dozen of such groups clothed in indentifying t-shirts, the dance contingents from the different barangays and schools came through.

They were all clad in colorful costumes and truly, the Sangyaw parade had begun. It was a much better parade compared to the one I saw two years ago and give or take a few years it might catch up with its "rival", the Pintados-Kasadyaan, which had the headstart, which is arguably better in terms of a more lively, colorful parade with beautifully coordinated dance steps. Frankly, I cannot understand this "war" of festivals when we can actullay have one with the "other" retaining their identity and joining the official one. Really, what's in a name when we all profess to be honoring the Senyor Sto. Nino, the patron saint of our city?

The sad story of the festival squabble has shifted the limelight from the fiesta's festivities to a battle that has gone from the the airwaves to the halls of justice. One need not look far for an example and Cebu City's "Sinulog" festival comes to mind. Despite provincial and city public officials who are openly at loggerheads, the "Sinulog" festival has them put all these aside and trot to a unified yell of "Pit Senyor!". Why, I ask, can't we do the same? Anyway, "war" and all, that day we watched under the sweltering heat of the sun a show that came with story bigger that itself.

welcome baby e_ _

Its an unforgivable sin. While I've talked about events and happenings and sometimes clearly unimportant things, I have neglected to post a most important milestone in my life, in my family's life. Yup, I totally forgot to write something about my now 3-month old bundle of so much joy, my baby daughter e _ _.

She who have somehow managed to wipe out all the day's stresses and mindless worries with just a heavenly smile that makes me all goooey inside. Even as I write this, I remember her at home with her yaya and I silently smile too. I've forgotten all the pain her birth brought me for seeing her was all worth it.

Ate B_ _ is all agog and playing older sister to the hilt.

Yes, yes. The happy moments certainly makes up for the sad ones. Life is a ball.

Love in Different Degrees

In much youthful days (ergo: teensomething), I always reckoned love, at least in the romantic sense, to be much like the eternal flame of the Kennedy Memorial, constant and always hot. Married with a kid, another on the way and years later, I've realized it not to be true.

After the intial high of falling in love and settling down with your chosen love/lifemate, love actually comes in different degrees, temperature-wise, in different times. One day your love is full of red-hot passion and the next day its the embers of a dying out fire that has ceased to burn but continues to wrap you in its warm embrace. In the life of marital bliss it is usually the latter that defines most of your times with your better half. Its now up to both of you to squeeze in the former and bring up the romance despite the temptation to just settle in and let the security of a lifelong bond lull you into complacency. For truly, the courtship does not end when the ring slips through your finger and vows are made at the altar.

But then, even without much effort the love just comes at you and you feel like you are back again to those heady times when you felt like your heart is bursting with just the sight of your mate.

Just like the other day when I woke up with great pain and the hubby lost no time in taking care of me. I didn't need to ask, he just understood what I needed and what had to be done. He gave me medicines and made me drink kamalunggay to hasten my recovery. He took care of B__ and made sure I got my rest. After that, even Brad Pitt wouldn't have gotten a second glance from me for my loved one was way, way up there in the attraction scale.

So I came to the conclusion that while the myths of youth have been shattered, with it came the knowledge that the strongest kind of love actually need not be always be 300degress hot, just something that's steady with sporadic burst of flames that puts up the necessary spice for a relationship to last.

The Year That Was and the Year that is to Come

2010 was a year of mixed emotions. While I generally felt that we had more than our fair share of set-backs than other years, on second thought and upon summoning my deeply buried optimist spirit, I realized that blessings were abundant too.

B__ and I are expecting a baby soon and if I didn't mishear my ultra sonologist, it's going to be a boy. We moved into our new home last June and my sister and brother-in-law welcomed baby I___ into this world. More importantly, the hubby and I had more time together with his forced hiatus from the world of politics.

Seeing the glass half-full rather than half empty might seem hard but doing it is just a matter of perspective. I am thankful for the year that was and I am hopeful for the year that is to come.

Happy New year to all.

Native Bags

The recent "One Visayas Island Fair" held recently in Cebu City yielded surprising finds of bags made from native materials, in this case a particular kind of grass.

Mind you, it takes weeks to finish one bag and all are hand made. A labor of love indeed.

JOie de vivre

I was just about to write here how depressed I have been the past few months. Secretive as I am, my friends and co-workers does not realize it though. I try to keep up a happy front, but as janed chua posts in her blog, just because I smile it does not mean my heart does too. I really cried when I read that post because it really hit home. I feel such sadness that has been my constant companion these days. Yet, just as I opened this blog, I came upon a comment of a reader that has somehow inspired me. Unexpectedly, I got a lift from a total stranger.

So, perhaps this post may take on a different tone. My "companion" has for the moment "absented" herself and I somehow feel a little lighter. But I know she will soon back when I'm alone again or just before I sleep and even in the early mornings. I struggle and miraculously I'm able to function though not with such joy that I once was filled with before this envelope of sadness descended upon me. Joie de vivre, a French word, that if memory serves me right meant love of life. I have lost it.

Two pink lines

Yes, two pink lines showed in the pregnancy test kit I took last Friday. It confirmed what I had been suspecting for thepast few weeks, that my little girl will soon be an Ate.

I must admit that this pregnancy was not planned but still, it is very much welcome. Five years is more than the ideal time to wait for another addition to our small family.

I'm filled with both excitement and a little anxiety. After all, the hubby is currently in a career shift and the budget will have to be "re-adjusted". Yet, I know, we will cope and the blessing and joy of having another baby will more than make up for it.

Right now, B_ _ is having fits of jealousies and bouts of insecurities. Every night she would cuddle up to me and ask plaintively if I will still love her after the baby comes. Of course, I would say, in fact even more as she will now be a responsible elder sister to her coming sibling. There is much love to go around so B_ _ need not feel left out. In fact, as early as now, seven weeks into my pregnancy, the hubby and I have been involving her in our plans (e.g. where the baby will sleep).

Its been quite long and I have forgotten how it felt like last but I'm sure three expectant souls are eagerly awaiting his/her arrival.

A Fork

I have always believed that while we may have our own grandiose plans for our lives, there is always that “X” factor, wholly uncontrollable, that either puts the proverbial monkey wrench to all the “best laid plans” or sets out a path that was totally not thought of.

What I am saying is, destiny and fate shall always intervene and reminds us that there are things greater than us that determine the course our lives shall take.

I mistakenly thought that winning was a done deal and all that was needed to be worked upon was to set the margin higher to eliminate all possible protests should there be the eventual proclamation. The discontent was palpable and the demand for change was ringing all through out the town. Caucuses showed the hubby had all but the consensus. The greater efforts were towards ensuring that the lead candidate for the top position would be carried by the then apparent wave of popularity my better half enjoyed. The possibility of losing never entered my mind and back up plans of such an eventuality were never made.

But it was not meant to be and my hubby faced his first ever loss in his 12-year political career. The three days after E-day passed like a blur and he had to face scores of supporters and leaders who came one after the other conducting the requisite "post-mortem", the questions of how and where we went wrong. So, like a true leade, after the battle was lost he took on the dificult job of lifting the morale of his defeated troops. Licking his wounds in private had to take a back seat for a while no matter how much he was itching to get away from it all. I watched him take on a very brave front although I knew deep inside he was hurting.

And for that I started hating the world of politics. I saw soon enough how the sacrifices he made did not amount to anything and how service to the people could never be appreciated in a community whose cries for change got lost in a sea of "green", money and money was all that mattered.

I never fit the model of a politician's wife. I was, still am, fiercely protective of my privacy and was uncomfortable letting in strangers of different stripes and colors into the hubby's home and being made to act like each and everyone is my best friend. But I tried my best because notwithstanding my reluctance, I had to be supportive all the way.

Now this loss. Frankly, I do not know how to deal with it and I know the hubby will find it difficult to change careers mid-stream. Yet it is in these difficult times that we also discover the most important things in life, the one constant that remain unaffected by the changing winds fortunes, political or otherwise. in the end, its all that matters.

What It Really Was

As the whole country celebrates the apparent success of the automated 2010 elections, in a small inconspicuos town somewhere in the mountainous portion of the island of Samar, people grieve. For despite all it high tech gadgetry, automation still could not provide a truly honest elections that reflected the people's will, at least in this part of the world where almost 90% live below the poverty line.

A combination of guns, goons and gold conspired to show the loopholes and the leaks where dishonest elections could still come out the norm in a much hailed automated polls. For while no one was looking, 1,500 non-resident and under-age persons managed to have themselves sneaked in as as registered voters of this town with a voting population of 6,500.

Readers of this blog who know my true identity might, to themselves say that these are but gripings of a sour loser but I dare say that while defeat may taste bitter it does not distract from the truth of what really happened on May 10, 2010.

It was the day when masterlist of voters had two versions and jeepney loads of total strangers started filtering in late in the afternoon (so as to afford little time to challenge and contest them) to vote for a slate composed of people they hardly knew and trade in their votes, nay, their souls for a few thousand pesos. They came all the way from Tacloban City and Calbayog City in trucks three days before the elections to provide the captured swing votes for a group of candidates in a town where for all intents and purposes many of the former only knew from a map that such town exists. In a place where everybody knew everybody else, the strangers stuck out like sore thumbs yet by some "magical" stroke of a pen and a computer keyboard, they were now officially "residents" and registered voters of the town.

Considering the massive scale and proportions of this operation "flying vultures", it came as no surprise that preparations and executions of the plan started a full year ahead of the polls. The "magician" knew his tricks well and played them with the deftness of someone who had been in his position for quite sometime betraying the public trust reposed in him to conduct a clean and honest elections.

The stage was set. The machine for registartion and validation started disappearing for days at a time from the office where they were supposed to be and when an election clerk was queried as to the computer's whereabouts, a ready answer was: it was being brought to another place for repairs. A check with a higher electoral office, however, confirmed that no permission was obtained from them which was what the law dictated before such a machine/computer could be moved. It was only after seeing the hordes of non-resident voters that the significance of its (the machine) disappearance came to light. Your guess is as good as mine.

Election employees refused to receive written request for master lists of voters and BEI's (the precinct level set of electoral officers) and candidates from the slate were only given the lists with only a few days left for them to exercise their remedies against the "imported" voters. As if that was not enough, the "magician" came up with two materlists, an incomplete one for the other slate and the other the official list carrying hundreds of names that was missing from the first list given to the candidates. The other side was deprived of notices for ERB hearings (the body that approves registration of voters) and they had to rely on the incomplete voter's list to file exclusions cases in court which proved to be costly for the meagerly-financed other side slate. The highest official of the town himself who was taking another crack at his post was seen personally ferrying voters to the precinct and even grabbed the cellphone of a watcher he suspected of calling someone up to report him.

But most depressing of all were the peole themselves, poor and uneducated folks who sold their votes to the highest bidders. Even familial bonds proved wanting when relatives were faced with the tempting offer of money in amounts that could never be seen in their lifetimes. At times I feel anger at these folks but upon deeper thought I realize they are but victims to machinations of people preying on their biggest vulnerabilities. P3,000.00 could already buy them a supply of rice for the whole year. Shading a few circles on a piece of paper for P5,000.00 was nothing compared to months of toiling in the sun to earn just as much. So it was never a hard choice to make and blood relations be damned.

And so I weep for these poor folks who now must pay for the next three years of a government from hell.

Mind Readers in the Ivory Tower

Prior to reading the now much maligned Supreme Court ruling on the power of the incumbent president to appoint the new Chief Justice when the present one retires on May 17, 2010, I stumbled upon the column of Ms. Patricia Evangelist in the Philippine Daily Inquirer. After going through her piece, I dare say it took one non-lawyer to blow to smithereens what is turning out to be a decision that dwells more on conjectures and mindreading than true interpretation of the law.

For a collegial body that has most of the time, if not always, been articulate, coherent and consistent, we read a ponencia* that not only is inconsistent but drives us around in circles as to what it actually means. It just proves my point that an indefensible position is just that, indefensible.

I truly admire Ms. Evangelista for her to-the-point, no mincing of words dissection of the High court's ruling. It reminds me of the story of the "Emperoro's New Clothes". While all of the articles I've read held their punches, owing in large part to the awe and high esteem the Supreme Court, though now in danger, enjoys from the people in general, this columnist said it as it is, a decision that defies logic and reasoning, this from an institution that is supposed to be the last bastion of reason.

Yes, indeed, "the sky will not fall should there be a vacancy" for the Chief Justice position. But more than that, the things that really impressed upon me about the Bersamin ponencia was that the Court took it upon itself to be read the minds of the members of a Contitutional Commission that was convened fourteen years ago. Even Superman could not have that power to go back in time and determine people's thoughts. For try as you might, read it as many times as you can, the wording of the 1987 Constitution is clear: the president cannot make any appointments two months before the holding of a a national or local elections. It does not exempt the judiciary and the framers of the constitution would not have intended it so for the simple reason that if that was their intent they would have included/written it into the constitution. Exempting the judiciary is a significant provision and the framers would not have relied on mere structuring of the constitution to put that point across.

Much ado is made of Justice Florenz Regalado's opinion, but his word is not that of the Court or that of the Con Com. As empasized, the Court, and the ConCom, is a collegial body and a single vote does not a decision make. What was decided and what won by majority rule is the view that the ban is total with the minor exception being only of temporary appointments for vacancies that might endanger public safety or public welfare if unfilled.

Indeed, these are most trying times for the judiciary, a male-dominated branch of government where recent events has shown that it is actually the women who has the balls: Judge Tolentino, for accepting the Ampatuan case without hesitation, and Justice Carpio Morales with her highly incisive dissenting opinion. Now I know why it is a woman depicted as holding the scales in the symbol for justice.

Caution: Escalators Bite!

People flocking to the mall on Valentines

Last February 14, the hubby and I together with our unica hija went to Robinsons Tacloban with the idea of dining out in one of its restaurants to celebrate Hearts Day. That idea was quickly scrapped with the mob that greeted us as we entered the mall. So many people at a given time in a given place, I bet the restaurants there were making a killing with its sales. Me and the hubby, however, decided to go someplace else more, uhmm, less populated to escape the maddening crowd.

Just as we were about to go outt by "the Mang Inasal exit", we noticed people gathering at the foot of the escalator and looking upwards towards its top that was manned by blue-shirted mall engineering personnel. A few questions thrown here and there gave me the info that a boy's clothing was caught somewhere between the steps just as the escalator was brought to a stop for reasons not disclosed. It took the engineering guys almost an hour to break him free.

Boy trapped in escalator is surrounded by engineering personnel

Angels and Demons, the Movie- What I think

(Photo credits www.allmovie.com)

What is it with Mr. Brown, has he got an axe to grind with the Catholic Church? This question one is almost tempted to ask in the middle of the movie adaptation of the novel of Dan Brown with the same title.

But I would like to give the author the benefit of the doubt and review this movie absent my own personal views on the religious aspect of it. Why? Because the movie took me for one hell (no pun intended) of a ride and left me gasping for more.

It is basically a whodunit in an unconventional way and Mr. Brown weaves his tale amidst the backdrop of the Vatican with its age-old rituals and traditions. (Warning: spoiler alert). Compared to the Da Vinci Code film, this one is indeed several degrees higher, both in action, pacing, and style. Its tightly edited putting just the right amount of action in some scenes while placing emphasis on the dialogue that makes it so much more than just a plain action thriller. While it may not grant you ephiphany it does provide food for thought long after the credits has rolled in.

The movie starts with the death of the Pope, the highest official in the Roman Catholic Church symbolized by the breaking of the Fisherman's Ring, a ring worn only by those who seat as head of the Church. Following tradition and canonical law, a conclave is convened composed of the Cardinals of the Catholic Church from all over the world tasked to choose the successor to the post first held by St. Peter. The rituals and rules of the conclave really got me fascinated and here in the movie it is central to the plot as would be revealed in the ending.

Upon the start of the conclave all the cardinals are ushered into a big room in the Sistine Chapel in the Vatican and the door is both physically and symbollically sealed. No one is to get in or get out until the purpose for which the conclave is instituted is served: that is, to elect the new leader of the Church and for whom a new Fisherman's Ring will be made and molded. Once a vote is taken, the ballots (I don't know what it is actually called) are burned and depending upon the result, two kinds of dust is burned along with it that would produce either black or white smoke. As any devout Catholic would know, black means the cardinals has not reached a consensus and the Church remains in sedente vacante, without a Pope, while a white smoke would mean that a successor has been chosen.

What makes this conclave so different from other conclaves? Well, Mr. Brown decided to put a touch of terrorism to the plot and had four of the cardinals kidnapped right from their quarters in the Sistine Chapel. And they are not just any ordinary cardinal, they are the preferiti, the strongest contenders to be the next Holy Vicar. Here, the clue is already provided as to what the movie is all about. To add spice to the story bringing with it a Tom Clancy/Die Hard touch, a newly discovered anti-matter is threatened to be used to wipe the Vatican off the face of the earth, literally. All signs point to a centuries old enemy of the Church, the secret society of the Illuminati as behind the abduction and the terrorist threat. Here enters Robert Langdon, played to perfection as before by Oscar winner Tom Hanks, the protagonist in the Da Vinci Code. He had authored a book on the society and the head of the Vatican police, Commander Olliveti, believes he could help greatly in the investigation. Racing against time, the Swiss Guard (the Vatican's equivalent of the PSG and the Secret Service), the local gendarme and Mr. Langdon work through clues provided by symbols and archives of the Catholic church to find the kidnapped cardinals before they are murdered, one by one by the hour in different fashions so sadistic this blogger cringed when watching. This is the part where I really felt uncomfortable, as to why I leave you to find out for yourself.

Ewan McGregor, as usual delivers a most impressive performance. As Carmelango, the Church official entrusted to perform the functions of Pope during sedente vacante, he is most believable as the orphan adopted by the recently dead Pope bent on protecting the Church for the ideals he believe it should fight for. The nuances and emotions he displays can be done only by an actor with a depth such as he has. I cannot give you what that particular emotion is without revealing the twist at the end so its better left unsaid. In this movie it is his character that lingers, and through no fault of Mr. Hanks (it is just that the role of Carmelango is more meatier), Ewan overshadows the academician-protagonist.

The focus on the conflict of the Illuminati and the Church brings to fore what at first seems to be the irreconciliable differences of the Church and science. If you follow closely the dialogue, it is here, in this conflict, that what is perceived to be the anti-Church stance of the author is shown. But upon the end of the movie, I changed my mind. As the Grand Elector said: "Religion is flawed only because men is flawed.."

Didn't I say in the beginning that this was basically a whodunit kind of movie? Oh, yes, because just like any whodunit, red herrings are a plenty and you would think convictions, right or wrong , and beliefs are the moving force that drives these terroristic acts in the movie. Who would have thought that one of the most common of human frailties is behind it all.

Can't Get My Groove

Its been almost two months since I lasted posted to this blog of mine. Why oh why? Blame it on the mundane requirements of life which has all but snuffed all creative juices in me. I'm at a loss on an interesting topic as subject and putting my social life on hold (indefinitely) is not helping any. Am I turning into a social hermit? My eight to five routine has not seen any deviations for the past two months, its home-office-home everyday of the week. Two people really, really like this development (clue: one is no more than three feet tall and the other has been subject of an article I wrote in a women's magazine). To give them credit, they would want me to enjoy a few nights out with girls in a month its just that they seem to be loving the undivided attention (second clue).

So, rather than bore you with insights taken from an involuntary self-exile, I would much rather keep the posts few and far between in the meantime. Should inspiration strike, then, mabilis pa sa alas kwatro, yours truly shall post again.