SOME OF THE STORIES OF MY SOME POSTS ARE BASED FROM A BOOK ENTITLTED
"KEEPING THE LEGACY"...
Monday, March 26, 2007
EQUALITY
We all wanted to be treated equal.
PAKIKISAMA is rooted in the intrinsic Filpino value of pakikigkapwa-tao. It refers to one’s desire to be treated as an equal. It is translated into acts of helping, sharing, and cooperating with others. A Filipino expects that the consideration he shows to others will be reciprocated. Nevertheless, this value also conjures up negative scenes of wild drunken orgies, profligate living, and consorting with dregs of society.
Hey, Pamela,” Sebastian called one Monday afternoon, vigorously waving his hand to emphasize his point.” You were unanimously chosen to be the pianist of the choir that will represent our school in a friendly competition with other high schools two Sundays from now. I act as the leader.”
“I’m so glad,” Pamela answered. “When the first practice?”
“Tomorrow after class in the music room. Our principal and music teacher will be our coaches,” Sebastian told her.
“Great! I’ll be there.” Pamela was ecstatic.
The first practice day was spent discussing he choreography, attire, and regular practice schedule. Opinions varied.
“I have second thoughts about practicing every night,” Sandra commented. We have lessons to study and homework to attend to.”
“But this will be for two weeks,” Sebastian replied. “We have to make sacrifices if we want to win.”
“Do we really have to wear uniforms? They’re expensive,” Tatiana remarked. “And besides, can we find a seamstress and tailor who can beat the deadline?”
“Nothing’s impossible,” Pamela answered. “I’ll see that.”
“How abut our transportation?” joined in Joy.
“I’ll ask Dad to make available two of our vehicles,” volunteered Arielle.
“I will ask Dad, too, to let us use ours,” Gabriel offered. “That will be enough for all of us, I guess.”
I’ll take charge of the snacks,” said Carl.
Sebastian thanked the members for their kindness.
The group practice also ran smoothly. Not one member was absent. Even their coaches were with them all the way.
“You know what I like this group?” Sebastian whispered to Pamela after the practice that Sunday night. “We are like one happy family. Everyone knows the real meaning of pakikisama. No jealousy, no complains, no bickering, no insulting.”
“I know,” Pamela replied. “That is why our practice has been going smoothly since day one.”
When the big day finally arrived, the group couldn’t contain its excitement. Every member came on time at the meeting place. Before they left for the contest, Sebastian made one last announcement: “I want to thank you for the sacrifices you made just to come and practice our piece. I am proud to have you as a members. Above all, I am proud that everyone know the value of pakikisama. In a group such as this, not only is talent of value but pakikisama as well. Thank you so much.”
The group nodded in agreement to their leader’s view. They know that pakikisama, as much as talent, is very important in any group, in any occasion, at all times.
In everything we do, we must learn how to be fair and equal.
PAKIKISAMA is rooted in the intrinsic Filpino value of pakikigkapwa-tao. It refers to one’s desire to be treated as an equal. It is translated into acts of helping, sharing, and cooperating with others. A Filipino expects that the consideration he shows to others will be reciprocated. Nevertheless, this value also conjures up negative scenes of wild drunken orgies, profligate living, and consorting with dregs of society.
Hey, Pamela,” Sebastian called one Monday afternoon, vigorously waving his hand to emphasize his point.” You were unanimously chosen to be the pianist of the choir that will represent our school in a friendly competition with other high schools two Sundays from now. I act as the leader.”
“I’m so glad,” Pamela answered. “When the first practice?”
“Tomorrow after class in the music room. Our principal and music teacher will be our coaches,” Sebastian told her.
“Great! I’ll be there.” Pamela was ecstatic.
The first practice day was spent discussing he choreography, attire, and regular practice schedule. Opinions varied.
“I have second thoughts about practicing every night,” Sandra commented. We have lessons to study and homework to attend to.”
“But this will be for two weeks,” Sebastian replied. “We have to make sacrifices if we want to win.”
“Do we really have to wear uniforms? They’re expensive,” Tatiana remarked. “And besides, can we find a seamstress and tailor who can beat the deadline?”
“Nothing’s impossible,” Pamela answered. “I’ll see that.”
“How abut our transportation?” joined in Joy.
“I’ll ask Dad to make available two of our vehicles,” volunteered Arielle.
“I will ask Dad, too, to let us use ours,” Gabriel offered. “That will be enough for all of us, I guess.”
I’ll take charge of the snacks,” said Carl.
Sebastian thanked the members for their kindness.
The group practice also ran smoothly. Not one member was absent. Even their coaches were with them all the way.
“You know what I like this group?” Sebastian whispered to Pamela after the practice that Sunday night. “We are like one happy family. Everyone knows the real meaning of pakikisama. No jealousy, no complains, no bickering, no insulting.”
“I know,” Pamela replied. “That is why our practice has been going smoothly since day one.”
When the big day finally arrived, the group couldn’t contain its excitement. Every member came on time at the meeting place. Before they left for the contest, Sebastian made one last announcement: “I want to thank you for the sacrifices you made just to come and practice our piece. I am proud to have you as a members. Above all, I am proud that everyone know the value of pakikisama. In a group such as this, not only is talent of value but pakikisama as well. Thank you so much.”
The group nodded in agreement to their leader’s view. They know that pakikisama, as much as talent, is very important in any group, in any occasion, at all times.
In everything we do, we must learn how to be fair and equal.
A KISS OF RESPECT
One of the famous gesture we are used to do is the act of kissing or bowing on the hands of our elders.
MANO PO is the traditional gesture of kissing or bowing on the hands of respected persons. It is the younger generation’s way of honoring the elderly, the clergy, and educated mentors.
The bus has began to slow down for a stop. Belle and Hazel picked up their suitcases and walked with my husband, Jolly, to the door of the Victory Liner bus.
“At last, we’re in Isabela with our grandparents,” they hollered.
“For eight hours of traveling, we had a good time on the bus watching a lot of beautiful scenery. But for sure we will have more fun when we arrive at our grandparents’ house,” Belle quickly added.
As the bus stopped, my two daughters ran down the steps into my parents’ arms. I heard them say, “Hi, Lolo! Hi, Lola! Mnao po.”
As they kissed my parents’ hand, I could see eagerness and reverence sparkle in their eyes. My parents, however, were more excited to see , kiss, hug, and carry them. “We’re happy to see you! We thank God for keeping you safe on your travel,” my parents said.
Our house was full of expectant people, happily awaiting us. My daughters and I kissed the hands of my aunts, uncles, and some relatives who were eagr to see us and partake of our pasalubongs. Jolly followed suit after putting down our suitcase. He kissed the hands of all the adults sitting on our veranda, just to make sure, because he didn’t know who among them were my relatives.
After our kumustahan, Belle told her grandparents, “Lo, La, I want to go to your barn and see the animals.”
“Me, too, Lolo, Lola. I WANT OT SEE THE CHICKENS AND THE DUCKS. I want to feed them!” said Hazel.
“Oh, really? Okey, let’s go,” said Lolo. Lola stopped us, however, and said,” Wait, I’ll get the feeds.”
“Yeheeeeey!” the girls shouted.
In the barn, Lola instructed the two children to throw some feeds on the ground.
Belle and Hazel did as told. A mother hen and a mother duck instantly came running and began scratching the ground where the feeds had fallen. Little chicks and ducklings rushed at once to feed themselves.
As the children watched, Belle noticed how obedient the chicks and ducklings were to their mothers.
“What lesson can you learn from the mother hen and the mother duck, and their siblings?” asked Lola.
“They take good care of their siblings. In turn, they always come when their mothers call them,” answered Belle.
“Lolo, I saw the chicks and ducklings kissing their mothers, as if saying ‘thank you for the food, Ma!” added Hazel.
“Oh, really!” Lolo exclaimed, laughing.
Later at launch, one of our male helpers cried and shouted, “I’m now ready to die! For the first time in my life, somebody kissed my hand! At last, somebody respected me!” His wife and children abandoned him years ago. We were shocked. Jolly asked, “What’s the matter? Why did he cry?” Belle quickly answered, “Because, Papa, nobody loved, honored, and respected him before!” “And now, meron na!” Hazel volunteered.
Jolly just smiled.
“Mama, I think his children won’t have a long life on this earth,” Hazel added.
“Why?” I asked, amazed with my daughter’s pinion.
“Because, according to the Bible, children who don’t respect their parents will not have a long life. They will die early,” Hazel answered.
“They didn’t follow Jesus’ command that we should follow and obey our parents in the Lord, for this is right,” added Belle.
That night, my parents my showed my children our family album, including my pictures when I was still a little girl like them. They laughed and giggled. After listening to stories from their grandfather, my mother asked them, “In Manila, what do yu do before going to bed?”
“We kiss Papa and Mama!” Hazel quickly answered.
“And pray to Jesus!” Belle exclaimed.
“And why do you kiss our hands, and your parents’ hands?” asked Lolo
“Kasi po, pagmamano is a sign of respect. It is a way of expressing your love and concern,” Belle said.
“And Jesus will be bless you abundantly if you do so,” Hazel stressed.
Giving respect to others is simply telling that you also want to be respected.
MANO PO is the traditional gesture of kissing or bowing on the hands of respected persons. It is the younger generation’s way of honoring the elderly, the clergy, and educated mentors.
The bus has began to slow down for a stop. Belle and Hazel picked up their suitcases and walked with my husband, Jolly, to the door of the Victory Liner bus.
“At last, we’re in Isabela with our grandparents,” they hollered.
“For eight hours of traveling, we had a good time on the bus watching a lot of beautiful scenery. But for sure we will have more fun when we arrive at our grandparents’ house,” Belle quickly added.
As the bus stopped, my two daughters ran down the steps into my parents’ arms. I heard them say, “Hi, Lolo! Hi, Lola! Mnao po.”
As they kissed my parents’ hand, I could see eagerness and reverence sparkle in their eyes. My parents, however, were more excited to see , kiss, hug, and carry them. “We’re happy to see you! We thank God for keeping you safe on your travel,” my parents said.
Our house was full of expectant people, happily awaiting us. My daughters and I kissed the hands of my aunts, uncles, and some relatives who were eagr to see us and partake of our pasalubongs. Jolly followed suit after putting down our suitcase. He kissed the hands of all the adults sitting on our veranda, just to make sure, because he didn’t know who among them were my relatives.
After our kumustahan, Belle told her grandparents, “Lo, La, I want to go to your barn and see the animals.”
“Me, too, Lolo, Lola. I WANT OT SEE THE CHICKENS AND THE DUCKS. I want to feed them!” said Hazel.
“Oh, really? Okey, let’s go,” said Lolo. Lola stopped us, however, and said,” Wait, I’ll get the feeds.”
“Yeheeeeey!” the girls shouted.
In the barn, Lola instructed the two children to throw some feeds on the ground.
Belle and Hazel did as told. A mother hen and a mother duck instantly came running and began scratching the ground where the feeds had fallen. Little chicks and ducklings rushed at once to feed themselves.
As the children watched, Belle noticed how obedient the chicks and ducklings were to their mothers.
“What lesson can you learn from the mother hen and the mother duck, and their siblings?” asked Lola.
“They take good care of their siblings. In turn, they always come when their mothers call them,” answered Belle.
“Lolo, I saw the chicks and ducklings kissing their mothers, as if saying ‘thank you for the food, Ma!” added Hazel.
“Oh, really!” Lolo exclaimed, laughing.
Later at launch, one of our male helpers cried and shouted, “I’m now ready to die! For the first time in my life, somebody kissed my hand! At last, somebody respected me!” His wife and children abandoned him years ago. We were shocked. Jolly asked, “What’s the matter? Why did he cry?” Belle quickly answered, “Because, Papa, nobody loved, honored, and respected him before!” “And now, meron na!” Hazel volunteered.
Jolly just smiled.
“Mama, I think his children won’t have a long life on this earth,” Hazel added.
“Why?” I asked, amazed with my daughter’s pinion.
“Because, according to the Bible, children who don’t respect their parents will not have a long life. They will die early,” Hazel answered.
“They didn’t follow Jesus’ command that we should follow and obey our parents in the Lord, for this is right,” added Belle.
That night, my parents my showed my children our family album, including my pictures when I was still a little girl like them. They laughed and giggled. After listening to stories from their grandfather, my mother asked them, “In Manila, what do yu do before going to bed?”
“We kiss Papa and Mama!” Hazel quickly answered.
“And pray to Jesus!” Belle exclaimed.
“And why do you kiss our hands, and your parents’ hands?” asked Lolo
“Kasi po, pagmamano is a sign of respect. It is a way of expressing your love and concern,” Belle said.
“And Jesus will be bless you abundantly if you do so,” Hazel stressed.
Giving respect to others is simply telling that you also want to be respected.
HARANA vs CHOCOLATES and ROSES
Years ago, “harana” was used to ask a person, especially females, for their hand through singing.
HARANA is a romantic expression of love through music.
A young man, usually with his friends, visits a young woman’s house at night and serenades her with songs that express his affection. The young lady may respond with a song and the singing may go on until both parties reach an understanding.
Don’t call me unlucky if my friend RK tells you I’m a probinsyano. My name is Nathaniel Barabas, but my freinds call me Boboy, and I think I like the name. True, in all my 40 years I have mostly stayed in my probinsya (my work as a farmer demeands my being here). But every now and then, when chance and need arise, Iget to see the city, a good 25 or so kilometers away from my place. But I don’t stay there for a long time. City life with its congested traffic, smog, and many things sort of suffocate me. And so when I’m done with my business in the city, I usually head back home.
Here in my place I enjoy life at its best-fresh and clean air, and vegetables, fruits, and fish. Have you tasted my native chicken adobo? Don’t eat it without the sweet-smelling dinorado. Don’t you know dinorado? Then come to my probinsya and partake of this favored fare under the playful innocent gaze of our beautiful women. The women in my place are simple, sincere, demure, and dedicated to their family and work. Perhaps after our evening meal you can whoop it up with my friends and me and harana one of the beautiful ladies nearby. (But please be forewarned: my friends don’t usually want me to tag along because they say I’m too defies age.) Oh, yes, this is one heart-rending activity you cityfolk don’t get to enjoy. Harana is mainly associated with probinsya. I know of city people, gentlemen and ladies, who come to the probinsya to witness and enjoy harana. Just like my auntie Heidi many years ago.
Auntie Heidi was fair-skinned and beautiful, and many a lovesick swain in my place wanted to get acquainted with her. One night, after eating our meal and the old folks were in the sala telling stories, reminiscing the good old days, we heard a guitar strumming a beautiful song. There was no electricity then, so all well quiet. Everybody stopped talking. The music went on and soon a baritone voice rent the air. “ Lovely bloom of the sampaguita. . .”
My grandfather ordered for a petromax to be placed in the middle of our balcony.And soon we recognized the faces of three gentlemen. They were blushing but they continued singing. I was excited. After their song, grandfather asked them to come up. They hesitated and decided to sing one more song.
“ O Ilaw sa gabing madilim, larawan mo, Neneng.”
Ihad to suppress my laughter because “Neneng” was pronounced “ Nining.” But they went on their number, unmindful of their pronounciation.
Grandfather persuaded them to come up and they did. But they were still blushing. Auntie Heide was all smiles at them, but they couldn’t seem to look at her. And they couldn’t seem to think of something to talk about. But grandfather came to the rescue. He asked me to sing along with them, and everybody blurted out, “ Yes, yes!” I didn’t sing but I kept smiling. Pretty soon one of the men who was near me patted my head and said, “ Boboy is very cute and handsome and-“
Oh, there, I saw RK winking and raising her eyebrow at you. Don’t believe her, I’m telling the truth. It really happened to me. She’s just envious because nobody is serenading her. Ok let’s go, my friends are waiting for us. But prepare some songs; you’ll be our harana star tonight.
Nowadays, is it commonly used? Maybe not. Today, men are used to buy chocolates and roses to express their love. But what if people today are using the “harana” method?
HARANA is a romantic expression of love through music.
A young man, usually with his friends, visits a young woman’s house at night and serenades her with songs that express his affection. The young lady may respond with a song and the singing may go on until both parties reach an understanding.
Don’t call me unlucky if my friend RK tells you I’m a probinsyano. My name is Nathaniel Barabas, but my freinds call me Boboy, and I think I like the name. True, in all my 40 years I have mostly stayed in my probinsya (my work as a farmer demeands my being here). But every now and then, when chance and need arise, Iget to see the city, a good 25 or so kilometers away from my place. But I don’t stay there for a long time. City life with its congested traffic, smog, and many things sort of suffocate me. And so when I’m done with my business in the city, I usually head back home.
Here in my place I enjoy life at its best-fresh and clean air, and vegetables, fruits, and fish. Have you tasted my native chicken adobo? Don’t eat it without the sweet-smelling dinorado. Don’t you know dinorado? Then come to my probinsya and partake of this favored fare under the playful innocent gaze of our beautiful women. The women in my place are simple, sincere, demure, and dedicated to their family and work. Perhaps after our evening meal you can whoop it up with my friends and me and harana one of the beautiful ladies nearby. (But please be forewarned: my friends don’t usually want me to tag along because they say I’m too defies age.) Oh, yes, this is one heart-rending activity you cityfolk don’t get to enjoy. Harana is mainly associated with probinsya. I know of city people, gentlemen and ladies, who come to the probinsya to witness and enjoy harana. Just like my auntie Heidi many years ago.
Auntie Heidi was fair-skinned and beautiful, and many a lovesick swain in my place wanted to get acquainted with her. One night, after eating our meal and the old folks were in the sala telling stories, reminiscing the good old days, we heard a guitar strumming a beautiful song. There was no electricity then, so all well quiet. Everybody stopped talking. The music went on and soon a baritone voice rent the air. “ Lovely bloom of the sampaguita. . .”
My grandfather ordered for a petromax to be placed in the middle of our balcony.And soon we recognized the faces of three gentlemen. They were blushing but they continued singing. I was excited. After their song, grandfather asked them to come up. They hesitated and decided to sing one more song.
“ O Ilaw sa gabing madilim, larawan mo, Neneng.”
Ihad to suppress my laughter because “Neneng” was pronounced “ Nining.” But they went on their number, unmindful of their pronounciation.
Grandfather persuaded them to come up and they did. But they were still blushing. Auntie Heide was all smiles at them, but they couldn’t seem to look at her. And they couldn’t seem to think of something to talk about. But grandfather came to the rescue. He asked me to sing along with them, and everybody blurted out, “ Yes, yes!” I didn’t sing but I kept smiling. Pretty soon one of the men who was near me patted my head and said, “ Boboy is very cute and handsome and-“
Oh, there, I saw RK winking and raising her eyebrow at you. Don’t believe her, I’m telling the truth. It really happened to me. She’s just envious because nobody is serenading her. Ok let’s go, my friends are waiting for us. But prepare some songs; you’ll be our harana star tonight.
Nowadays, is it commonly used? Maybe not. Today, men are used to buy chocolates and roses to express their love. But what if people today are using the “harana” method?
DO IT YOURSELF!
LAKAD literally means, “walk”. It is a euphemism for making an attempt to smooth out difficulties by using a network of “connections.” Here the Filipino padrino system literally, a “godfather or a sponsor who can help a person or his work comes to rescue. Tol, pakilakad naman ng enrollment ko! (Friend, kindly help me with my enrollment.) Bert and Cosme had been the best of friends since high sch Have you ever been shy in doing something? You can’t do anything because of this. But in other aspects, the word “HIYA” or meaning being shy can also mean embarrassment.
HIYA is the Filipino feeling of inadequacy to face up to something that involves other people who, he thinks, expect much from him. The English equivalent is “embarrassment,” or possibly “timidity,” “modesty,” or “ shyness,” depending on the situation.
Let me share you a story about two guys and their experience to see how a person gets embarrassed.
Spencer and his next-door neighbor, Francis, were invited to Louise’s 18th birthday party held at an expensive hotel. Being new to the neighborhood, they had no friends yet except the beautiful debutante, who lived three houses away. She was also a premed student like them and shared the same hobbies-spelunking and stargazing.
Spencer’s eyes stared at the grand edifice and the interior decoration. He ogled at the delicacies set on the center table. He cast sly glances at guests who were too formally dressed and very influential. The expensive chinaware were too delicate to touch. If he broke one he knew he’d be broke for some months.
When Louise’s father stood up and announced that food was to be served, Spencer’s heart began to race. “What’s the first thing to pick up?” he whispered to Francis.
“Let’s just observe what the well-dressed, high-profile guests to do and follow suit,” Francis whispered back The meal went on smoothly.
“Spencer, there are lot of foods at the center table!” Francis whispered to him.Just look at the spaghetti, rainbow roll with tuna and salmon, fried chicken, biko, mangoes, chocolate cake, and ube-macapuno ice cream. You like them, don’t you?” Yes,” stammered Spencer.
Let’s go get mangoes on the center table, Spencer,” suggested Francis. “I won’t miss this very delicious fruit for the whole world.”
“ But I fell out of place. I’d dare not to stand up and have more than a hundred pairs of eyes following my every move,” Spencer muttered under his breath.
“ You’re just too shy, Spencer,” consoled Francis.” Look, the people are too busy talking to each other. I even think they didn’t know we existed.”
“I know,” Spencer whispered back.” But what if I step on somebody’s foot, or worse, drop my mango and it would roll under the table?”
“ Oh, Spencer, you’re getting paranoid. You will never enjoy this party with such thoughts.” He then patted Spencer’s back and told him to relax. After a while, he said, “ let’s go. I am sure nothing would happen within that short distance.
Side by side they went to the table, got a piece each, and enjoyed the luscious fruit.
Out of the corner eye, Spencer saw the humbug who tripped him in the university hallway and poked fun at him for being a promdi. The boy approached the center table and began heaping his plate with food, unmindful of the guests’ stares. With a swagger that suggested he was used to getting his own way, he went back to his place and gobbled up his food. Then he returned for a second serving. As he twirled around to head back to his place, his left foot stepped on a small puddle of spilled juice on the floor. His feet wobbled. His arms flailed in the air. His plate shot up like an inflated parachute. His glass followed and, with an amateur gracefulness, crashed beside the plate.
Everyone stopped what they were doing and stared at the unpracticed piece of acrobat. The boy, now lying on his back, blushed like an ember. Then with a self-conscious smile he sat up, and hurriedly left the room. Spencer and Francis looked at each other, suppressed a smile, and continued eating.
If you were the one’s embarrassed, what will you do? Will you run away and get mad at yourself or just feel nothing happened?
ool. Both of them graduated from STI (Sto. Tomas Institute). Now, they were ready to enter collage. Early that May, they agreed to enrol together on the last week of the month, because the registration process at the university they planned to go to was long and tedious. The day of enrollment finally came. “Why could you not go with me? We agree to enroll together.” Bert was annoyed at Cosme’s refusal to keep his promise. “Sorry, Boy, I got a very important thing to do. But if you’re not done toda, maybe I’ll go with you tomorrow. I now you understand,” Cosme explained. “Ok, I do I’ll just send you a text message of the progress,” Bert remarked, then went on his way to the university. Cosme grinned widely. He felt relieved and began packing his cellphone, a bottle of water, a shirt, badminton rackets, and shuttlecocks inside his bag. More important to him was to play badminton with Kareem, Pards, Nonoy, Richard, and Jun—his new friends from Brgy. Tayokoy. For him, Bert was good only in jackstone and Chinese garter. Cosme turned off his cellphone before playing. That would be a disturbance to his concentration. Meanwhile, Bert arrived in the university. To his surprise, there were a lot of students waiting patiently for their turn to enrol. Soon he learned that there would first be an orientation test. There were just two schedules for it; the first being that day, and the last would be the next day. Bert took his cellphone right away and sent Cosme a message. “Cos, u nid 2 tek orientation tst 1st b4 u cn hv d nrolmnt sheet! 2morow s d last sched.” He took the test himself and then went on with the next step. It was already late in the afternoon when he went home, his enrollment still unfinished. Early the next morning, Bert dropped by Cosme’s house. “ Sorry he left very early this morning with five other guys,” Aling Es Cosme’s stepmother, told Bert. There was nothing much he could do, so he proceeded to the university to finish his registration.Cosme, on the other hand, felt exhausted after his game. Opening a bottle of water to relieve his thirst, he switched on his cellphone, which remained off since yesterday. He had several messages, one of which was from Bert. “Oh, no, today is the deadline of the orientation test.” Cosme became worried after reading the message. He called Bert, who had earlier finished his enrolment, and had gone to a bookstore to buy school supplies.” Boy, fetch me here at the gym. I’ll wait for you!” “I thought you would go with me today,” Bert chided Cosme upon his arrival. ‘I’m sorry, Bert,” Cosme apologized, then said anxiously, “Would there be another orientation test tomorrow?” he asked. “No! Today is the last, and I’m sure about this time it is finished. And do you know what this means? You have to enroll next semester, or you have to try other schools which I know you won’t do,” Bert explained. “No, I want to study here. But what should I do?” Cosme could no longer hide his frustration. He was really angry at himself. As he put his cellphone back into his holder, an idea flashed across his mind. He should call his Ninong Danny Lacson to help him with his problem. Yes, Ninong Danny is a good friend of the college president. Cosme grinned, convinced that his Ninong would come to his aide any time. The last orientation test was long over when the two friends arrived. Wiping the perspiration off his face, Cosme headed toward the woman administering the test. She seemed to be waiting for somebody. Cosme introduced himself to the woman. “Oh, yes, our college president, Mr. Tomas, called me about you. Well, are you prepared to take the test now? Cosme could not suppress his smile as he fished out his pen from his backpack. Bert could only look at him and the woman in utter consternation and disbelief.
Nowadays, we must be dependent to ourselves. Nothing will happen to you if you are just waiting for a miracle to happen.
HIYA is the Filipino feeling of inadequacy to face up to something that involves other people who, he thinks, expect much from him. The English equivalent is “embarrassment,” or possibly “timidity,” “modesty,” or “ shyness,” depending on the situation.
Let me share you a story about two guys and their experience to see how a person gets embarrassed.
Spencer and his next-door neighbor, Francis, were invited to Louise’s 18th birthday party held at an expensive hotel. Being new to the neighborhood, they had no friends yet except the beautiful debutante, who lived three houses away. She was also a premed student like them and shared the same hobbies-spelunking and stargazing.
Spencer’s eyes stared at the grand edifice and the interior decoration. He ogled at the delicacies set on the center table. He cast sly glances at guests who were too formally dressed and very influential. The expensive chinaware were too delicate to touch. If he broke one he knew he’d be broke for some months.
When Louise’s father stood up and announced that food was to be served, Spencer’s heart began to race. “What’s the first thing to pick up?” he whispered to Francis.
“Let’s just observe what the well-dressed, high-profile guests to do and follow suit,” Francis whispered back The meal went on smoothly.
“Spencer, there are lot of foods at the center table!” Francis whispered to him.Just look at the spaghetti, rainbow roll with tuna and salmon, fried chicken, biko, mangoes, chocolate cake, and ube-macapuno ice cream. You like them, don’t you?” Yes,” stammered Spencer.
Let’s go get mangoes on the center table, Spencer,” suggested Francis. “I won’t miss this very delicious fruit for the whole world.”
“ But I fell out of place. I’d dare not to stand up and have more than a hundred pairs of eyes following my every move,” Spencer muttered under his breath.
“ You’re just too shy, Spencer,” consoled Francis.” Look, the people are too busy talking to each other. I even think they didn’t know we existed.”
“I know,” Spencer whispered back.” But what if I step on somebody’s foot, or worse, drop my mango and it would roll under the table?”
“ Oh, Spencer, you’re getting paranoid. You will never enjoy this party with such thoughts.” He then patted Spencer’s back and told him to relax. After a while, he said, “ let’s go. I am sure nothing would happen within that short distance.
Side by side they went to the table, got a piece each, and enjoyed the luscious fruit.
Out of the corner eye, Spencer saw the humbug who tripped him in the university hallway and poked fun at him for being a promdi. The boy approached the center table and began heaping his plate with food, unmindful of the guests’ stares. With a swagger that suggested he was used to getting his own way, he went back to his place and gobbled up his food. Then he returned for a second serving. As he twirled around to head back to his place, his left foot stepped on a small puddle of spilled juice on the floor. His feet wobbled. His arms flailed in the air. His plate shot up like an inflated parachute. His glass followed and, with an amateur gracefulness, crashed beside the plate.
Everyone stopped what they were doing and stared at the unpracticed piece of acrobat. The boy, now lying on his back, blushed like an ember. Then with a self-conscious smile he sat up, and hurriedly left the room. Spencer and Francis looked at each other, suppressed a smile, and continued eating.
If you were the one’s embarrassed, what will you do? Will you run away and get mad at yourself or just feel nothing happened?
ool. Both of them graduated from STI (Sto. Tomas Institute). Now, they were ready to enter collage. Early that May, they agreed to enrol together on the last week of the month, because the registration process at the university they planned to go to was long and tedious. The day of enrollment finally came. “Why could you not go with me? We agree to enroll together.” Bert was annoyed at Cosme’s refusal to keep his promise. “Sorry, Boy, I got a very important thing to do. But if you’re not done toda, maybe I’ll go with you tomorrow. I now you understand,” Cosme explained. “Ok, I do I’ll just send you a text message of the progress,” Bert remarked, then went on his way to the university. Cosme grinned widely. He felt relieved and began packing his cellphone, a bottle of water, a shirt, badminton rackets, and shuttlecocks inside his bag. More important to him was to play badminton with Kareem, Pards, Nonoy, Richard, and Jun—his new friends from Brgy. Tayokoy. For him, Bert was good only in jackstone and Chinese garter. Cosme turned off his cellphone before playing. That would be a disturbance to his concentration. Meanwhile, Bert arrived in the university. To his surprise, there were a lot of students waiting patiently for their turn to enrol. Soon he learned that there would first be an orientation test. There were just two schedules for it; the first being that day, and the last would be the next day. Bert took his cellphone right away and sent Cosme a message. “Cos, u nid 2 tek orientation tst 1st b4 u cn hv d nrolmnt sheet! 2morow s d last sched.” He took the test himself and then went on with the next step. It was already late in the afternoon when he went home, his enrollment still unfinished. Early the next morning, Bert dropped by Cosme’s house. “ Sorry he left very early this morning with five other guys,” Aling Es Cosme’s stepmother, told Bert. There was nothing much he could do, so he proceeded to the university to finish his registration.Cosme, on the other hand, felt exhausted after his game. Opening a bottle of water to relieve his thirst, he switched on his cellphone, which remained off since yesterday. He had several messages, one of which was from Bert. “Oh, no, today is the deadline of the orientation test.” Cosme became worried after reading the message. He called Bert, who had earlier finished his enrolment, and had gone to a bookstore to buy school supplies.” Boy, fetch me here at the gym. I’ll wait for you!” “I thought you would go with me today,” Bert chided Cosme upon his arrival. ‘I’m sorry, Bert,” Cosme apologized, then said anxiously, “Would there be another orientation test tomorrow?” he asked. “No! Today is the last, and I’m sure about this time it is finished. And do you know what this means? You have to enroll next semester, or you have to try other schools which I know you won’t do,” Bert explained. “No, I want to study here. But what should I do?” Cosme could no longer hide his frustration. He was really angry at himself. As he put his cellphone back into his holder, an idea flashed across his mind. He should call his Ninong Danny Lacson to help him with his problem. Yes, Ninong Danny is a good friend of the college president. Cosme grinned, convinced that his Ninong would come to his aide any time. The last orientation test was long over when the two friends arrived. Wiping the perspiration off his face, Cosme headed toward the woman administering the test. She seemed to be waiting for somebody. Cosme introduced himself to the woman. “Oh, yes, our college president, Mr. Tomas, called me about you. Well, are you prepared to take the test now? Cosme could not suppress his smile as he fished out his pen from his backpack. Bert could only look at him and the woman in utter consternation and disbelief.
Nowadays, we must be dependent to ourselves. Nothing will happen to you if you are just waiting for a miracle to happen.
***EMBARRASSED***
Have you ever been shy in doing something? You can’t do anything because of this. But in other aspects, the word “HIYA” or meaning being shy can also mean embarrassment.
HIYA is the Filipino feeling of inadequacy to face up to something that involves other people who, he thinks, expect much from him. The English equivalent is “embarrassment,” or possibly “timidity,” “modesty,” or “ shyness,” depending on the situation.
Let me share you a story about two guys and their experience to see how a person gets embarrassed.
Spencer and his next-door neighbor, Francis, were invited to Louise’s 18th birthday party held at an expensive hotel. Being new to the neighborhood, they had no friends yet except the beautiful debutante, who lived three houses away. She was also a premed student like them and shared the same hobbies-spelunking and stargazing.
Spencer’s eyes stared at the grand edifice and the interior decoration. He ogled at the delicacies set on the center table. He cast sly glances at guests who were too formally dressed and very influential. The expensive chinaware were too delicate to touch. If he broke one he knew he’d be broke for some months.
When Louise’s father stood up and announced that food was to be served, Spencer’s heart began to race. “What’s the first thing to pick up?” he whispered to Francis.
“Let’s just observe what the well-dressed, high-profile guests to do and follow suit,” Francis whispered back The meal went on smoothly.
“Spencer, there are lot of foods at the center table!” Francis whispered to him.Just look at the spaghetti, rainbow roll with tuna and salmon, fried chicken, biko, mangoes, chocolate cake, and ube-macapuno ice cream. You like them, don’t you?” Yes,” stammered Spencer.
Let’s go get mangoes on the center table, Spencer,” suggested Francis. “I won’t miss this very delicious fruit for the whole world.”
“ But I fell out of place. I’d dare not to stand up and have more than a hundred pairs of eyes following my every move,” Spencer muttered under his breath.
“ You’re just too shy, Spencer,” consoled Francis.” Look, the people are too busy talking to each other. I even think they didn’t know we existed.”
“I know,” Spencer whispered back.” But what if I step on somebody’s foot, or worse, drop my mango and it would roll under the table?”
“ Oh, Spencer, you’re getting paranoid. You will never enjoy this party with such thoughts.” He then patted Spencer’s back and told him to relax. After a while, he said, “ let’s go. I am sure nothing would happen within that short distance.
Side by side they went to the table, got a piece each, and enjoyed the luscious fruit.
Out of the corner eye, Spencer saw the humbug who tripped him in the university hallway and poked fun at him for being a promdi. The boy approached the center table and began heaping his plate with food, unmindful of the guests’ stares. With a swagger that suggested he was used to getting his own way, he went back to his place and gobbled up his food. Then he returned for a second serving. As he twirled around to head back to his place, his left foot stepped on a small puddle of spilled juice on the floor. His feet wobbled. His arms flailed in the air. His plate shot up like an inflated parachute. His glass followed and, with an amateur gracefulness, crashed beside the plate.
Everyone stopped what they were doing and stared at the unpracticed piece of acrobat. The boy, now lying on his back, blushed like an ember. Then with a self-conscious smile he sat up, and hurriedly left the room. Spencer and Francis looked at each other, suppressed a smile, and continued eating.
If you were the one’s embarrassed, what will you do? Will you run away and get mad at yourself or just feel nothing happened?
HIYA is the Filipino feeling of inadequacy to face up to something that involves other people who, he thinks, expect much from him. The English equivalent is “embarrassment,” or possibly “timidity,” “modesty,” or “ shyness,” depending on the situation.
Let me share you a story about two guys and their experience to see how a person gets embarrassed.
Spencer and his next-door neighbor, Francis, were invited to Louise’s 18th birthday party held at an expensive hotel. Being new to the neighborhood, they had no friends yet except the beautiful debutante, who lived three houses away. She was also a premed student like them and shared the same hobbies-spelunking and stargazing.
Spencer’s eyes stared at the grand edifice and the interior decoration. He ogled at the delicacies set on the center table. He cast sly glances at guests who were too formally dressed and very influential. The expensive chinaware were too delicate to touch. If he broke one he knew he’d be broke for some months.
When Louise’s father stood up and announced that food was to be served, Spencer’s heart began to race. “What’s the first thing to pick up?” he whispered to Francis.
“Let’s just observe what the well-dressed, high-profile guests to do and follow suit,” Francis whispered back The meal went on smoothly.
“Spencer, there are lot of foods at the center table!” Francis whispered to him.Just look at the spaghetti, rainbow roll with tuna and salmon, fried chicken, biko, mangoes, chocolate cake, and ube-macapuno ice cream. You like them, don’t you?” Yes,” stammered Spencer.
Let’s go get mangoes on the center table, Spencer,” suggested Francis. “I won’t miss this very delicious fruit for the whole world.”
“ But I fell out of place. I’d dare not to stand up and have more than a hundred pairs of eyes following my every move,” Spencer muttered under his breath.
“ You’re just too shy, Spencer,” consoled Francis.” Look, the people are too busy talking to each other. I even think they didn’t know we existed.”
“I know,” Spencer whispered back.” But what if I step on somebody’s foot, or worse, drop my mango and it would roll under the table?”
“ Oh, Spencer, you’re getting paranoid. You will never enjoy this party with such thoughts.” He then patted Spencer’s back and told him to relax. After a while, he said, “ let’s go. I am sure nothing would happen within that short distance.
Side by side they went to the table, got a piece each, and enjoyed the luscious fruit.
Out of the corner eye, Spencer saw the humbug who tripped him in the university hallway and poked fun at him for being a promdi. The boy approached the center table and began heaping his plate with food, unmindful of the guests’ stares. With a swagger that suggested he was used to getting his own way, he went back to his place and gobbled up his food. Then he returned for a second serving. As he twirled around to head back to his place, his left foot stepped on a small puddle of spilled juice on the floor. His feet wobbled. His arms flailed in the air. His plate shot up like an inflated parachute. His glass followed and, with an amateur gracefulness, crashed beside the plate.
Everyone stopped what they were doing and stared at the unpracticed piece of acrobat. The boy, now lying on his back, blushed like an ember. Then with a self-conscious smile he sat up, and hurriedly left the room. Spencer and Francis looked at each other, suppressed a smile, and continued eating.
If you were the one’s embarrassed, what will you do? Will you run away and get mad at yourself or just feel nothing happened?
ESCAPING???
Some people live in a world of lies, lies to other person for them to “lusot” from their sins.
LUSOT literally means escape from something by wriggling into a hole or through a split. It points to a mentality that is concerned in getting away from an undesirable, unpleasant, or altogether difficult situation in the fastest and least painful manner.
LUSOT has been the title for this story. It is about a little girl who escaped from her sin, disobeying her mother.
I can’t wait for our summer vacation!” Keren cried out excitedly.
Our family was headed for Ajuy, Iloilo, the birthplace of my father. The day before our trip, we made the necessary preparations. My father conditioned the vehicle we were to use. My sisters and I were so excited e hardly slept that night.
The next day, we got up at 5 a. m. , put all are things in the car, and started to travel. We reached the municipality of Ajuy at around 11 a. m. Then after a 10-minute banca ride we reached the beautiful island of Nasidman.
We settled in a cozy cottage, owned by Nanay Inday, my Lola’s sister. “Girls, please put your things in the room,” Mother said, pointing to the bigger room to the left.
We really enjoyed our first two days there. Only the food, prepared by Nanay Inday especially for us, left something to desired. Meeting our relatives was half the reason we were here; the other half was beaching. So the following morning, before breakfast was set, we went beaching.
Mother warned my little sister not to swim for a long time or else they’d get sick. They obeyed, at least for a while. But the waves of children’s passion for swimming carried away my mother’s warning.
“Time for breakfast,” Mother shouted from the kitchen. All of us dashed inside except Keren.
“She went swimming” Omega informed us. Mother called her, and told her to stop swimming. “You’re allowed to swim up to 11 o’clock only because the scorching heat will cause fever.” she announced. We all nodded, including Keren.
We spent the whole morning swimming. After eating hearty lunch, we rested in our room. We thought Keren rested with us, because of Mother’s warning. Instead, she swam the whole day without our knowledge. It was already 6 o’clock when she went home.
“Where have you been?” Father asked her. “I’m with Nanay Inday, I. . .I. . .stayed with her the whole afternoon, I mean n the library,” she stammered. There was really a library in Nanay Inday’s house, not far from our cottage.
“Then why is your hair so wet?” Father inquired.
“I’ve just finished taking a shower,” she lied. She did everything to hide her mistake. The truth came out, however, because she burned with fever that night. She confessed everything to mother.
We scheduled the next day for boating. We posed for pictures around the island. Unfortunately, Keren was so sick to accompany us. Before we left, father made realize her mistake. “I told you this before; I don’t like disobedient children who escape from their mistake. Because of this you stay here with Nanay Inday. I hope you will not do this again,” Father explained. Keren nodded.
Alone, she saw the boat slowly drifting away on the calm waters. She heard her sisters giggling. She saw her mother lean on her father’s chest. She also saw the wide ocean beckoning her to come. And she learned her lesson well.
In some cases, as the saying goes, “Telling lies could be good and telling truths could be bad”. It has a point. But not at all times. Lying is a great sin...
LUSOT literally means escape from something by wriggling into a hole or through a split. It points to a mentality that is concerned in getting away from an undesirable, unpleasant, or altogether difficult situation in the fastest and least painful manner.
LUSOT has been the title for this story. It is about a little girl who escaped from her sin, disobeying her mother.
I can’t wait for our summer vacation!” Keren cried out excitedly.
Our family was headed for Ajuy, Iloilo, the birthplace of my father. The day before our trip, we made the necessary preparations. My father conditioned the vehicle we were to use. My sisters and I were so excited e hardly slept that night.
The next day, we got up at 5 a. m. , put all are things in the car, and started to travel. We reached the municipality of Ajuy at around 11 a. m. Then after a 10-minute banca ride we reached the beautiful island of Nasidman.
We settled in a cozy cottage, owned by Nanay Inday, my Lola’s sister. “Girls, please put your things in the room,” Mother said, pointing to the bigger room to the left.
We really enjoyed our first two days there. Only the food, prepared by Nanay Inday especially for us, left something to desired. Meeting our relatives was half the reason we were here; the other half was beaching. So the following morning, before breakfast was set, we went beaching.
Mother warned my little sister not to swim for a long time or else they’d get sick. They obeyed, at least for a while. But the waves of children’s passion for swimming carried away my mother’s warning.
“Time for breakfast,” Mother shouted from the kitchen. All of us dashed inside except Keren.
“She went swimming” Omega informed us. Mother called her, and told her to stop swimming. “You’re allowed to swim up to 11 o’clock only because the scorching heat will cause fever.” she announced. We all nodded, including Keren.
We spent the whole morning swimming. After eating hearty lunch, we rested in our room. We thought Keren rested with us, because of Mother’s warning. Instead, she swam the whole day without our knowledge. It was already 6 o’clock when she went home.
“Where have you been?” Father asked her. “I’m with Nanay Inday, I. . .I. . .stayed with her the whole afternoon, I mean n the library,” she stammered. There was really a library in Nanay Inday’s house, not far from our cottage.
“Then why is your hair so wet?” Father inquired.
“I’ve just finished taking a shower,” she lied. She did everything to hide her mistake. The truth came out, however, because she burned with fever that night. She confessed everything to mother.
We scheduled the next day for boating. We posed for pictures around the island. Unfortunately, Keren was so sick to accompany us. Before we left, father made realize her mistake. “I told you this before; I don’t like disobedient children who escape from their mistake. Because of this you stay here with Nanay Inday. I hope you will not do this again,” Father explained. Keren nodded.
Alone, she saw the boat slowly drifting away on the calm waters. She heard her sisters giggling. She saw her mother lean on her father’s chest. She also saw the wide ocean beckoning her to come. And she learned her lesson well.
In some cases, as the saying goes, “Telling lies could be good and telling truths could be bad”. It has a point. But not at all times. Lying is a great sin...
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