No Ending

Dear Me,

The world isn't ending tonight. Even though you might feel like it. Some day you will look back at this and laugh. How silly you were. How silly it all was. Time tends to make everything trivial. Even though at this moment it feels incredibly important. Like life depended on it. Remember your philosophy in life: "This too shall pass." History is funny that way. What is unfolding at present becomes an anecodote, a story to pass onto your children. Your children's children.

Do you regret what you have done? Maybe. To forgo this pain. But isn't that what makes life worth living? These little hiccups? So you know you're not living a flatline. So you know life has meaning. That its not one mundane little thing after another. That its not Event A, then Event B, then Event C. You don't like drama. Who likes drama? This is reality folks. All of this is REAL. How can he discount that? How can he sweep it all aside? But then what does he know? He's just a child himself. You're a grown woman. 28 in three weeks. What have you learned in life? That you can survive anything. That you're not afraid of pain. You knew this when you started it. You knew for chrissakes.

You are on this path on your own. He can't help. He only has space for himself. To get over his shit. Wake up sparks. Wake up. Life is waiting. Responsibilities. Other people counting on you. You have to wake up. Now finish that last cigarette. And the bottle of wine. When you wake up in the morning, the world will be right again.

Grilled

Dean: Do you think law should be guided by morals?
Me: Well, in most societies, killing people is criminal. If the law says its bad, then isn't that a moral judgment?

Dean: What do you think are the limits of government when it comes to interfering with citizens' lives? Is there a limit?
Me: Well, if you dig deep in political theory, and this may be a bit libertarian, as long as an individual's personal choices don't harm others, then she should be free to do as she will.
Dean: What if she harms herself?
Me: As far as I know, attempted suicide is not criminal in any society.
Dean: Don't you think the state should intervene in certain cases?
Me: This assumes the government knows best. Isn't that a bit totalitarian?

Dean: What are your guiding principles?
Me: (very careful answer here) I don't use religious terms as others do. Christians will be comfortable saying they seek guidance from God. I use other terms...like signposts. I am modern in that I feel I make my own destiny. But sometimes things happen to me that I feel were just meant to be.

Dean: What do you think constitutes good governance?
Me: People in positions of leadership should be guided by democratic values. I call myself a democrat. What I mean by this is that at bottom, I believe human beings are all the same. Given the same opportunities, anyone can realise themselves to the full.

Dean: So, you like postmodernism?
Me: I used to teach French. So I like French thinkers. Its all language games really. Maybe the attraction was because I was a language teacher first.
Dean: What about it do you like exactly?
Me: That meaning is constructed between humans. As humans change, so does meaning.

Dean: Explain what you mean when you said you're a historical materialist.
Me: *Bullshit. Bullshit. Bullshit*

De-Everything

De-skinned, de-boned, de-everything. A lamb led to the slaughter. I have to re-learn surviving in this environment again. Two things that I've lost during my pro-longed vacation in Oz, foresight and strategic planning. I need to be neurotic again, to think two-three steps ahead for every possible little thing that could go wrong. In my venture to Makati yesterday, I didn't foresee how long the commute would be. I didn't foresee that Butch would take so long to book his Cebu Pacific tickets because the ladies behind the counter were low on vitamins and minerals. Worker drones who obviously didn't care that they do their job properly. We took the MRT from North avenue, I forgot the queues could be so tortuously long and slow. I don't mind walking under the sun anymore, but I forgot the humidity literally makes you a walking sweat machine. I forgot how home is literally your only sanctuary. The streets of Manila are unforgiving. Dirty, noisy, tiring, hostile. Its an extreme sport just getting from point A to point B. I had forgotten how to navigate, second-guessing myself about the layout of the city. Was I gone that long? Don't think so.

I need to be a worry-wart again. I felt so disorganised for my interview/teaching demo today. I hadn't even practiced delivering the damn thing. Once, in the cab on the way. I counted on the adrenaline rush to do it for me...and I think I delivered. The dean is a lovely woman...we spoke for an hour. Well, I did most of the talking...more like rambling really. Predictably she asked me about the role of the Church in politics....I hope she heard the answer she was looking for. Haha. The teaching demo went well...for something I put together at the last minute. The faculty in attendance were from diverse fields, but all from UP. They knew where I came from. We speak the same language...so that was small comfort.

I need to organise again. My hiatus in Australia has rendered me dull. Now, I feel my being coming back to full life. I have renewed respect for the dwellers of this city. We are made of stern stuff. This environment is pushing me to function again in full gear. Ha. I am home. Welcome back sparks. Welcome back. :)

Quest for Truth: ZTE NBN Scandal (To be Updated)

I couldn't liveblog the press conference. But I'm still in Makati, stealing bandwidth from somewhere along C. Palanca. Still have to edit my transcription of the proceedings. In the meanwhile, here are some photos.
















As of last night, Iloilo Vice Governor Rolex Suplico is no longer in contact with the latest ZTE-NBN scandal witness, "Alex." Alex is the same 'probinsyano' who leaked the photos of the President and the First Gentleman playing golf (among other things) with ZTE officials "Romantic Rose" and the Man in the Yellow shirt.



Apparently, "No President, No Money."

Newbie

I am scared shitless. I have not been in front of a classroom (as a teacher) in a while. Scratch the European Union, I would still have to do research for that, so I'm using a previous paper for my teaching demonstration:

Deconstructing Markets

I. Introduction – Outline of discussion - question

1. What is a market? Importance of answering this question.
2. Role of markets in the contemporary capitalist world system.
3. Theory – heterodoxies (neoclassical economics and its alternatives)
4. Re-instating politics in the discussion of markets – role of the state

II. What is the market?

1. Definitions – an institution, a technology, a system, a metaphysical concept, a morality (?)
2. Polanyian approach

III. Neoclassical Economics and Free Markets

1. Key assumptions
2. Political implications

IV. Critique of key assumptions – brining the social back in

1. A-historicity of the market
2. Are we homo economicus?
3. Dog-eat-dog world?
4. Why ‘dismal’ science?
5. Epistemological problematic of postcolonialism

V. Conclusion

1. Scholarly interventions
2. New areas of research

What the hell am I doing wanting to teach for the O.D.? But the institute is the only one of its kind in the country. So what if it is nestled in the heart of one of the most conservative universities known to Philippine academia? *Shudder* And I like my boss. He knows I'm a historical materialist (a more benign term for a post/neo/Marxist). I am also tolerant of his own Catholic philosophy. I am by no means an ideologue...and neither is he. And our common ground is we're both from UP, so we more or less have been shaped into a certain mould of thinking and being. I sometimes wonder why he wanted me to take this post. Full time! Because of my imported postgrad pedigree? Because he wanted a rabble rouser? Someone youngish to build the department? In any case...I dread this teaching demo. Guaaarrgghh.

Australia in Pictures

Pieces

Has it been a week? My room is in crazy clutter. Bits and pieces of the past litter each corner. It needs cleaning, like my brain. My life. This bookshelf. I need to get rid of so many books. My infamous historical romances, my fantasies, my guilty pleasure. I used to take comfort in them before leaving for Australia. Like dark chocolate. Dirty, yummy, easy. I have not read a single one in a year. I found myself browsing Book Sale yesterday, but couldn't conjure enough enthusiasm. That comfort is over. All my photocopies are below. Journal articles, entire books. I need to come up with a 20 minute lecture on the European Union. Teaching demo for the Opus Dei on Tuesday. Gawd help me. I left my lectures and more journal articles in J's room. I would've brought them with me, but they were too heavy. A 20 minute lecture. It isn't all that bad, I've delivered monologues longer. I need to impress. Have I learned anything new in Australia? Yes. Not really.

My Klimt prints hang over my bed, sentinels standing guard while I sleep. I had bought them at one of the bouquinistes in Paris years ago. They are my sole comfort now. And my ciggies. I said Iwould quit on my birthday. Three weeks. Maybe next year. Gawd, I'll be twenty-eight. A year older, not necessarily wiser. I have not fully unpacked. My luggage lay strewn on the floor. Still stuff inside. When I find the will to clean my room, in two, three days, it will mean I've moved from this awful place. A week it has been. In limbo still. I am not fully home yet. All that I have left behind. All that is waiting for me here. I saw my best friend the other day, and her new husband, also an old college friend. They looked happy. And old. And settled. All that isn't me at the moment. I need to earn back the years I shed in Australia. I need to be properly cynical and angry again. About things other than myself.

On the way to Shaw the other day, I took the bus lane below the flyover near Galleria by mistake. Lost again. There was a young man who passed in front of the car, pedalling his trisikad furiously. In pursuit were Greenhills Barangay tanods. They were rough with him. We wondered if he stole the trisikad, still laden with black garbage bags. Two, then three more tanods came. The boy would not let go of his prize. I felt curiously detached, like I was dreaming the thing happening before my eyes. It is easy to avoid the unsavoury images of this city. One only need chase her blues away in our malls gigantesques. I was home. Everything old is new again.

Wired

Because I have been gone for a while, I see everything with new eyes. Every day is a re-discovery, some things have surprised me, some continue to disgust. The other day, while waiting for my mom's friend (at Starmall on Shaw), a few things struck me. One, that Filipinas are really a good-looking lot. Maybe I have been around too many Caucasians that the 'novelty' of their exoticness has worn off. Filipinas are gorgeous. And we come in different hues and shapes. Damn. I think I'd been hanging out with a few too many lesbians on campus. Haha.

My first four days were partially spent in four different malls. Imagine that. They are inescapable. They are there so we have no choice but go to them. Life in this city revolve around going to them, for various purposes - to relax, to get the necessities, to meet people. Which drives home the point that whatever economic growth this megalopolis is probably consumption driven. Jesus. One only need look at the urban landscape, the billbaords, the glossy magazines and newspapers that all we are here for is to work and then consume. Pacific Fair on the Gold Coast, supposedly Queensland's largest shopping centre, is probably as large as Powerplant Mall and a lot uglier. And only 2 floors! Remember this conversation I had with a British cabbie back on the Gold Coast? SM Mall of Asia drove them nuts. Our shopping culture is unparalleled, and our malls...I never saw anything comparable in Melbourne or Sydney. Probably the closest in terms of 'chicness' is Southgate (in Melbourne), but it was tiny. One would think we had lots and lots of money. All those people milling around in malls....is there nothing else to do? Nowhere else to go?

Ah basta. From next week, I will stick to the once-a-week in a mall rule. Today and tomorrow don't count because I need to do some 'getting back home' shopping for myself, my mom and our home.

Another mind-boggling thing is the SPEED with which my wifi connection was installed. I went to SM North to apply for the service. All I needed was P999 and my driver's license. I went to the Smart Centre around 3h30. The whole business was completed in 30 minutes. I got a call around 5h saying the installers would come the day after from 3h-5hpm. The day after, they actually came earlier at 10h30. Imagine that!! A wifi connection in less than 24 hours! I remember a decade and a half ago, we waited years(!) to get a PLDT landline. Jesus. Is this a sign of the times?

This country is wired. The latest in gadgets - mobile phones, computing, anything tech-related, we probably have it. I was afraid the wifi speeds would be incredibly slow. But it isn't so bad. The same as my uni during peak weeks. I compare these little tech shops in the shopping centres on the GC to the labyrinthine 'cyberzones' of our malls. Absolutely incomparable. And our internet cafes and shops.....they are peppered all around the metro. Butch was also saying that during their shoot in this far-flung town in Samar, their American crew was surprised that they had an internet shop...which was always full.

We have had a brief sampling of the ramifications of new media in our social lives. My communications professor back in Bond mentioned the "text-power" unleashed during Erap's time. But that was seven years ago. This is now. 24 million internet users in this year alone. A nation young and wired to the teeth. Imagine the possibilities.

(Dis)Orientation

Day 2, back in Manila. I am trying to get my bearings, to learn how to function again in this environment. I was afraid I'd forgotten how to drive. But its like riding a bike. You never really forget. Its fun driving in Manila. Its a cerebral and emotional experience. You get frustrated, mad, exhilirated at various stages. Its almost like playing a video game. Ha, that is the masculine in me talking. I've had to recalibrate the spatial map in my brain. Which is Mindanao and which is North avenue again? Which side roads do I take to get to Ortigas? More importantly, how long a drive is it? I almost got lost a couple of times.

I was 40 minutes late for a job interview. Ah. This is Manila. Gotta plan for things to go wrong all the time. Gotta have contingency plans. But the interview went well, probably because my prospective boss is an old postgrad classmate. We were cracking jokes and laughing half the time. The oddest job interview, but I felt we were on the same wavelength...so its all good. Should I go back to teaching? I sometimes feel its not up to me. Sometimes it feels the decision is made for me. We will see.

I keep having to remind myself to look left first before crossing the street. I was almost run over yesterday and today. My first two days navigating through Manila and I've already been in 2 malls. Jesus. We can't avoid these consumer monstrosities. To have anything done (including net connection), to pay bills, to do anything, we need malls. Our urban landscape is such that we can't avoid these loud, crass, panacea of hyperconsumption. One would think we were rich. Is there anything else to do in this city? Is there any other place to go to but malls? Day 1 was Trinoma (after my interview). I needed to get my eye glasses changed. Again. Day 2 was SM North. I need net connection at home. I feel naked without it. Other than the usual reasons, my friends in Australia are obviously all online.

I feel as though I were in limbo. Trapped in-between. Not quite home yet...no longer in Australia. So this is what purgatory feels like.

Becaus you insist

J from Colombia thinks the Gold Coast's bus system sucks. Happy? :-p

Transit....Changi Airport Rocks

I could live here. Free everything - movies, music, internet stations and wifi! Flying home in 6 hours...

Back!

From vacation that is. 5 days in Melbourne and 3 in Sydney. Glad to be back on the Gee. A couple more weeks and I'll be flying back home to Manila. Wahooooooo!!!!!!!!!

Will post some pictures soon. Tired. Bone tired.

Serendipity of the Surreal

I know that we make conscious decisions, for life to be something we make and not the other way around. But sometimes random things, events and people converge in our lives in such a way that makes us wonder, how in the world could it not have been designed by fate?

It just so happens that I am in (still) Australia. And that I am in the Gold Coast. And that I randomly chatted up my friend H. at a bus stop last January. That she also happens to be a postgrad student in my uni. And that she's a practicing journalist. And that we became fast friends. And that she's specialising in media ethics. And that Brian Gorrell is living in a farm near Byron Bay. And that she wanted to do a couple of news articles on him. And that one day was free for us to go see him.

Random? I don't think so.

It felt so surreal, meeting the man behind the blog. Mediated spaces are different from real life. We tend to not realise that there is a real person behind the images and the text. They become caricatures - disembodied from reality. But Brian Gorrell is real.

He was kind enough to pick us up at the bus station at Byron Bay (an hour and a half away from the G.Coast). We drove for 40 minutes to his little hideaway up in the mountains. H asked me to hold the recorder for her, while she asked Brian questions. He spoke almost non-stop from the time we got into his car to his home. 4 hours. I don't know how he wasn't exhausted afterwards. So many emotions - he laughed, he cried, he cracked jokes.

I sat, stood up, nodded my head, asked a couple of questions, smoked a couple of ciggies. 4 hours. I was exhausted afterwards. I thought, this man is both fragile and incredibly strong at the same time. He didn't censor himself. He said what he thought. And quick. Witty. Incredibly articulate for someone who only finished 8th grade. He seemed sensitive and in touch with his emotions. Also very receptive of his audience (i.e. me and H). I thought, he sensed what he thought we wanted to hear.

Whatever he alleges on his blog, whether his ex did indeed steal that money from him, I cannot tell. What I can say is that this was a man so deeply hurt - he burned. Incendiary. And seemed genuinely, righteously angry.

I know people read Brian for various reasons. For those doing so merely to be entertained, I suggest you stop. Brian Gorrell is a real person. The people he talks about in his blog are real. Beyond your flickering computer screen are real lives enmeshed in one huge mess.

I felt incredibly sad when we left. Over sushi, I asked Brian if he feared for his life. He said no. Perhaps fearlessness comes from knowing you have nothing left to lose. I thought, this was a man who learned early on to embrace life with such gusto, prudence probably wasn't in his vocabulary. It showed in his driving. It showed in the range of emotions that marked his face.

Those who say Brian doesn't need the money because he can afford wine or champagne or what, have no clue that a bottle of wine in Australia is the same price as a KFC meal. Pricier wines might cost the same as a box of pizza and a bottle of softdrink. His monthly pension of $1,100 is not much. To give you an idea of living costs, my monthly rent is $580. A month's grocery costs about $300. Those who may have been given an impression that he lived an ostentatious life because of those short video clips (i.e. the one where he gets up from the pool), have no clue that a bus driver in Australia can afford a home with a pool. 'Luxuries' in the Philippines aren't so here.

To Brian, I wish you well. Even though you may have chosen to take on big names back home, I believe you to be a worthy adversary. You have cojones THIS BIG. I'll give you that.

Keep up the fight mate. :)

-------

ETA:

Omg. H's article has come out. Randy Dillera?!?!? Bwahahaha. What a name. Tongue in cheek na tongue in cheek.....

No Brains to Drain?

In response to the Nashman (currently a PhD student in the UK), who says he doesn't believe there is brain drain for a country of 90 million. He says "No sooner have we left and there is another one better and brighter..."

Pasensya na ha.

Just because there are 90 million bodies, probably over 100 million in two decades, does not necessarily increase the chances of there being better or brighter people. Babies need nourishment and education to stand a fighting chance. To get better and brighter people, you need to invest. Mahirap yatang maging matalino kung kang-kong lang ang kinakain mo araw-araw.

This study by PIDS shows the decrease in government spending on education. At the same time there are more and more kids moving from private schools to public schools because private education is getting more expensive. I should know. I have taught in public and private universities.

And according to former education Secretary Butch Abad:

Among 10-64 year old population, only 41% are HS grad or higher; 65% can read, write, compute and comprehend; 84% can read, write and compute but not comprehend, 89% can only read and write

9.16M (or 16% of population) are functionally illiterate: 98% of unschooled, 35% of elementary drop-outs, 29% of elementary graduates are illiterate youths and adults

1,000 children enter Grade 1: 312 drop-out before Grade 6 (2/5 between G1-3; 3/5 between G4-6)

Of 638 elementary graduates, 439 complete in 6 years; 249 complete in 9.6 years due to repetition

Of 638 elementary graduates, only 7 mastered all minimum competencies for elementary level

Only 23% of Grade 6 pupils are independent readers in English

High School diploma does not mean much: 44% not mastered English, 52% not mastered Math, 74% not mastered Sciences competencies

College diploma does not mean much: only 2-7% of college graduate applicants to ICT jobs are accepted

Even professional license does not mean much: 46% of practicing M.D.s in Visayas did not pass competency-based test - admitting patient, administering correct drugs or oxygen

So, tama ka. Wala nga'ng brain drain.