Erap Estrada at the inauguration of President Noynoy Aquino

Former president and movie star Joseph Estrada (Erap) of the Philippines is a freed man.

He was sitting in front row during the swearing-in of President Noynoy Aquino.  Erap had run in the last election in which Aquino won. He was the last to concede defeat and the closest rival of the President in the last election.

As the first former president in Southeast Asia to be convicted of corruption (two counts of plunder) on September 12, 2007 and sentenced for 40 years of imprisonment, Estrada was granted pardon by President Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo (GMA) on October 25, just 43 days after the conviction. And now he sits with the President that vows to fight corruption.

The explanations given for the pardon were that Estrada was already 70 years old, had been in house arrest for six and a half years, and had committed not to seek any elective positions in the country. The last one is brazenly a mockery of the intent of GMA's controversial pardon.

Justifying the pardon, GMA in a speech before the Philippine Business Conference said that "national unity, rule of law, justice with accountability" were the reasons behind the pardon. Again, the last reason is a disgrace to "justice with accountability."

Various sectors and personalities were divided on the issue of pardon to Estrada. Asserting that justice and fairness should prevail, the influential Catholic Bishops Conference of the Philippines (CBCP) expressed opposition to the pardon while few bishops backed pardoning the ex-president. Former president Fidel Ramos (1992-1998) warned the Arroyo government that the pardon could be the start of its downfall while former president Corazon Aquino (1986-1992) who came to power through the first people power revolution welcomed the pardon for the deposed president. The loudest opposition to pardon came from the civil society and left-leaning groups that toppled Estrada from power while the most vocal supporters of the pardon were allies of the former president.

Estrada was ousted from power in 2001 by the second people power revolution over corruption and lavish lifestyle scandals. Noynoy's mother, Cory Aquino, was at the forefront of both people power 1 and 2 revolutions. In the second one, GMA who was then the Vice-President assumed the presidency and was declared winner in the controversial 2004 presidential election despite evidences of widespread cheating and electoral fraud.

As predecessor of Estrada, GMA is also facing and hounded by various corruption charges and scandals in the impeachment cases filed against her since 2005, 2006, and 2007. Critics of the Arroyo administration interpreted the pardon to ex-president Estrada as precedent to GMA if she is found guilty of the charges after her term of office. Her incumbency as President provides her immunity and shields her from being charged in a trial court.


Now President Aquino is forming a commission to formally investigate GMA for her various "lapses" in judgment. This time, "I'm sorry" is not sufficient to get her away from her culpability and accountability of her alleged sins to the Filipinos and Filipinas.

Meanwhile, Erap was greeted by some of his supporters and fans during the inauguration of President Aquino. As a popular movie star, he draws his main following from the masses. Just like in the movies he usually portrayed, he was in the limelight. The typical endings of his movies thread on the redemption of the protagonist.

Will it be the same in real life? Noynoy can change the script.

Cory chant and magic bring Benigno "Noynoy" Aquino III to power

June 30, 2010. Benigno "Noynoy" Aquino III is officially the 15th President of the Republic of the Philippines.

Just a year ago, Noynoy had no inclination to become one. He was, then, a senator whose term will end on 2013. However, one incident put him to the best position to aim the highest political position in the country of 90 million people. An incident that united in grief the whole country. A death of a mother, an icon of democracy, a symbol of hope and what remains good in the country.

Without her, the whole country became an orphan. Then, the big "kuya" in Noynoy was called forth by the orphaned public clamoring for change. Noynoy responded.

The tide of change steadily breaks and breaks until it reaches Malacanang Palace.

Let us remember what started it all, with a chant in 1986 and the loudest in August 2009. The magic still works.

Cory! Cory! Cory! This has been chant of two people power revolutions in the Philippines.

It is a chant that reverberates in the souls of every freedom-loving Filipino/Filipina, drawing power from within and consolidating in the rhythm of the pulsating heartbeats of the millions caged in martial rule, injustice, poverty, and oppression. The chant is liberating. It is enchanting.

Cory is an expression of an ideal and yet common to many of us. Cory is a sound reminiscent of a classic accepted and well loved. An ordinariness exemplifying an extraordinary will in extraordinary times. An extraordinariness in the midst of ordinary and basic value of a loving mother and wife. Cory is a resolute vibration sending quivers and tremors to powers that-be. Cory echoes the sincere human desire of a better future. Cory reciprocates our energies to demand accountability and transparency in the face of threatened democracy.

And Cory is a name of a person, a woman.

Since mid-1980s, when I was too young to remember, Cory has symbolized the struggle against the strongman and threats to democracy. The assassination of her husband left a vacuum in the struggle to solidify voices subduedly shouting their aspirations for freedom and participation in governance. Cory filled that space like a bass sound that shakes and penetrates the foundations and walls of the dictatorship. That was in the mid-1980s.

From then on, Cory has been a steady cry for good governance and democracy. Rallying for and with Filipinos/Filipinas, Cory has woken up the lethargic spirits of a country slowly slipping to submission to the ill will of a strong family occupying the Palace in the 1980s, early 2000s, and now.

The deadening chant has reached the peak of volume. It is fading. And gone.

Soon or sooner enough... Those who have witnessed and experienced the magic and power of the chant, we will undauntingly start to chant again.. Because we believe.. because we are with her... because she will forever  be with us... Of all the good things that happened to us, Cory was one of them. We are blessed to have been part of the generation when the chant has the most compelling and chilling effect, in us, to them - positively.

Cory! Cory! Cory!

My future son/daughter will learn to chant things. I'll make sure this is one of them. Because I am grateful, I believe, I remember.

Mr. President, you have been brought to power by this chant; may the chant and magic guide and power you in your endeavors and challenges as the big "kuya" of not just Kris, also of the brothers and sisters in the whole country and elsewhere.

Homecoming and homegoing

 I woke up today with an eerily silence in the flat. I was alone. My flatmates are gone and one is homeward-bound. 

There is a force within that compel us to return home, to seek the familiar and comfortable environment called home. It may be a longing for companionship, a return to a refuge, and a trip to memory lane of childhood years. This force is particularly strong during holidays when there is a break from workaday world. There is one place, one group of people we desire to visit and to be with - the place is known as home and the group of people is known as family.

Christmas, Independence, Thanksgiving, New Year, summer vacation, etc., these are the days that we troop to our homes. There is a sense of calling beyond obligation to travel back to our roots, where the sense of belongingness to that certain realm is bringing back the yesteryears. No matter how long we have been absent or away from home, we go back simply because it is there waiting for our homecoming.

Maybe after many years of being separated, the expected strange feeling of disconnect somehow causes us to reconnect with what is readily available that is familiar. Indeed, people grow old, places and surroundings change; the same as we do. We dig on the remembered shared history with the place and its people. Then, slowly things make sense into our consciousness. The place and its people become ours and we become theirs.

Or for some, a regular trip back home may feel routinary and taken for granted. But the sense of solidarity for celebration in a place where memorable events have taken place and with the family that understands our happiness and loneliness is ever present and haunting us when big holidays such as Christmas and New Year's days.

Homecoming is a tradition. It is not an obligation nor expectation from us. It is a willful act of one's heart. Our home is always there waiting for us, within reach, never been away from us. Why not be home this holidays or summer vacation? The warmth of embraces, the lively stories, unending updates and remembrances, the shelter of an old house, and the spirit of family seem to strike a chord in our hearts that we can hardly resist. The force is always upon us. Then, we realize it is we that have been away from where we belong - home.

Transition is hope: Keep up

Transition is a fact of life. It is not all about change, nor a continuation. It is a movement, a shift from one to another. It provides an opportunity to constructively change or creatively continue a status quo.

Every transition carries a hope.

For Noynoy Aquino, it is a firm hope for change that catapulted him to power. For Gloria Arroyo, it is a hope for a forgiving history that will view her. For Iraqis, it is a hope for improved security and self-rule. For Afghans, it is a hope for keeping on hoping. For Gazans, it is a hope for a peaceful surrounding and lifting of blockade.For the rest of the world, it is a hope to revive the slumping global economy from the financial crisis. For the average worker, it is a hope find or keep a job that will support their living decently. For French, South African, Cameroonian footbal teams, it is a hope that there is World Cup 2014 in Brazil.

From Arroyo to Aquino, from the US troops to Iraqi forces that will oversee the security of Iraq, from hundreds of thousands of foreign troops to more additional foreign troops in Afghanistan, from the rocket fires to ceasefire in Gaza, from Europe, US and Japan which are being hit by economic woes to China which reported a slight growth rate, from job termination to job placement, these transitions are images of hope which touch our common humanity with the rest of the world.

As for me, it is a hope for continued blessings in life. From studies to work and studies again, my transition is in the hope of contributing to sustain the hopefulness that now pervades amongst us, in spite of and/or because of the global financial crisis and difficulties in general.

In a recent Philipine survey, more that 60% of Filipinos remain hopeful that life will be better. I hope to see and keep that hope in spite of and/or because of the current administration. It is a pity that the rest do not see hope.

We hope in spite of our limitations, of our slumping economy, and of our frustrations and disappointments.

We hope because of our family, of our love for our country, and of our aspirations and dreams of a better tomorrow.

Indonesia's Independence Day: Freedom of a new Nation to Birth of a new Region

In August 2008, I was in Jakarta, Indonesia celebrating the Independence Day (Hari Kemerdekaan) with the villagers in Mampang Prapatan, Jakarta Selatan. It was a fun-filled and grassroot celebration of games and dancing to mark an important day in the history of the nation.

Sixty-five years ago, Indonesia gained its independence from the Dutch authority. It was to mark the birth of a new nation, rebuilding it with its own peoples' creative minds and determined hands, according to its own design, identity, and aspiration. Nationalism was at its peak. The pride of being Indonesian and of all that was Indonesian reverberated in the bones and marrows of those who waited, struggled, and won for the newly-independent nation. That was sixty-three years ago.

After sixty-three years, is Indonesia getting closer to the design that the proponents of independent Indonesia have imagined? Does the nation's current situation have a tinge of their aspiration? Have the peoples become more Indonesian or less? These questions are necessary to rethink and reflect on the direction of the country. But it is likewise necessary to consider who we are, historically and culturally, if we want to discern what our place in this globalizing world is.

Indonesia is composed of multiethnic and multireligious population. The mosaic of the country is rooted in the variety of food and languages, diversity of performing arts and customs, wealth of heritage and history, and archipelagic landscape. There is so much to be proud of in the country. And that pride is entrenched in the hearts and minds of Indonesians and expressed in their daily lives.

Remember sixty-three years ago. Indonesia should never be the same as it was.

This year saw the declaration of Kosovo as an independent country. Kosovars who are mainly ethnic Albanians and Muslims celebrated frantically the historic moment of separation from Serbia, a predominantly Christian country. The new republic of Kosovo promised to embrace everyone in Kosovo regardless of their ethnicity and religion. Nationalism drove the peoples of both Kosovo and Serbia on the streets; one celebrating, the other protesting.

Imagine Kosovo sixty-three years from now.

Certainly, Kosovo will be part of the European Union. And most likely, Serbia will also join the EU. Nationalism which drove these two countries to go at each other will be replaced by regionalism which is a key in dealing with the challenges of the globalizing world.

Indonesia is a founding member of ASEAN which has a binding Charter for all member-states to ratify to be integrated more into one dynamic community. Sadly, Indonesia has yet to ratify the ASEAN Charter, along with the Philippines and Thailand. The ASEAN Charter is gearing up the Southeast Asian regional organization towards a rule-based association.

Timor Leste which gained independence from Indonesia in 1999 has expressed its desire to join ASEAN. Both countries have a hostile past of each other. Both will be integrated into one regional organization, one vision, one identity, and one community working for peace, stability and prosperity for the peoples of ASEAN which recently celebrated its 41st founding anniversary.

In the celebration of ASEAN's anniversary, the current Secretary-General of ASEAN, Dr. Surin Pitsuwan, mentioned that the world is excited about the prospects of ASEAN with the Charter at hand. The prospects present a region that can stand and take care of its own affairs effectively and peacefully. That means, "one region less a problem to the world," he said.

As the host country of ASEAN Secretariat and a third of the region's population, Indonesia is vital to the process of attaining the vibrant prospect of ASEAN. Thus, Indonesia's independence must move its design, identity and aspiration towards working with its neighbors, its partners for peace, stability and prosperity in the region. It has to take the lead in the integration bid when other ASEAN members are facing their own internal and political problems.

Like nation-building, regional structures have to start building in the grassroots where people identify themselves. ASEAN can look at the way Indonesians celebrate their Independence Day. And be inspired from the historical and cultural bond that peoples take pride on.

Fieldwork: A cultural encounter

 “The use of traveling is to regulate imagination by reality, and instead of thinking how things may be, to see them as they are."                                                                                       -   Samuel Johnson 

       It is said that traveling expands our horizon. We get to know and learn new things by “being there.” For some reasons, we want to see and discover for ourselves what we already know, read and are told about a particular place or event that’s why we travel.

      A group of Japanese students and faculty from the Department of Studies on Global Citizenship of Seisen University in Tokyo, Japan traveled to various parts of Bicol according to their preselected communities, such as, farming (Pacol, Naga City), fishing (Sogod, Tinambac), and mining (Tugos, Paracale) from July 28 to August 4, 2006. They went to these communities and lived among the people. And they called their travel to Bicol – fieldwork.

      Some questions people asked about the activity; what brought the Japanese here and lived among the people? What is fieldwork? Why is it undertaken? What do we get out of fieldwork?

      Answers to these questions may just form part of the truth of what of interest to us. The totality of what happened during fieldwork days and nights could not possibly and adequately be presented and explained by questions and answers of this sort. But our questions and answers here would present the observed and interpreted reality which none of us could assail to have happened.

     Thus, rather than merely answering the questions posed, we need to look at, through and behind what happens in a fieldwork. In this way, it is hoped that we will learn more from this than the answers to the questions.

     Directly observing a reality is a vantage for us who want to understand a reality. Moreover, it will be a more fruitful understanding of reality if we do not only observe but participate in a setting. Fieldwork entails a combination of observation and participation, also known as participant-observation. Since reality is embedded with meanings, observing or participating may not discover, decipher and discern what it truly is, but the coupling of the two may do the work. For example in the fieldwork, we saw farmers performing some farming activities such as transplanting, weeding, or harvesting, etc., yet when some of us did those things, we gained the “feeling” of being farmers with which greater understanding of the farming ways took place. The knee-deep mud of a prepared field, back pain for too much bending , puzzling shortcuts to the field, and silence of people working on the field (or just the difficulty of communicating in an understandable language) form new meanings to us. Mere observations and interviews would bring about insights of the activities and events, but not the kind of insight we could gain from actual performance of or participation in the activities and events.

     Understanding “lived” reality is best done by going and “being there” for quite some time. But the reality is changed the moment we enter it. We bring foreign factors in the environment which reproduce another reality, alien or different from the reality prior to our presence. When we came to Pacol with the Japanese, we became part of Pacol but never of the lived reality of Pacol. Farmers tried to speak English which is not their lingua franca. Children were amazed by the sight of these “different” people and so they stopped playing their usual games. Instead, they followed these “different” people whom they were seeing the first time. In the after-wedding ceremony which we attended at the house of the bride in Pacol, the locals were interrupted of their usual behaviors. Even the after-wedding rituals such as pantomina and release of doves were timed for us to see, and not for the ritual’s sake and meaning. The people’s attention shifted from the newly-wed couple to us. What happened in that wedding since our arrival was not the “lived” reality of a traditional Bicolano wedding. The locals were conscious of our presence, and our being “outsiders” prevented us from seeing the wedding event in an insider’s view. We had yet to acquire the locals’ perspectives, attachments, norms, and values of that particular event. In order to do so, it would take a certain length of time and level of acceptance and acculturation to start to look, behave, speak and think like locals do. We might not come close to seeing and doing it the locals’ way like the dancing of pantomina, but what we saw and did in the event gave us nonetheless a sense and perception of the wedding event in Pacol.

     Notably, the University’s department where the Japanese students come from is Department of Studies on Global Citizenship. Fieldwork provides an insight on human diversity with which global citizens must acknowledge and appreciate in a rapidly globalizing world. The recognition of this human diversity would enable them to have a view and contexture of the world characterized by the plurality of ethnicity, class, gender, language, and culture. There is no better approach to do this than fieldwork.

     The Japanese formally interviewed farmers, land-owners, tenants, miners, fishers, women, children, public officials, urban poor, and students to add on to the raw data gathered from their observation. They listened to people’s constructed life stories and observed the reproduced reality. The synthesis they get out of what they gathered will form part of the “thick description” of the various communities they visited.

     Hopefully, the exposure to our cultural differences strengthen our understanding of our own cultural identities. As Henry Miller says, “One’s destination is never a place but rather a new way of looking at things.” When we travel, we never lose our cultural perspectives which might have drowned us into the common, familiar,  and taken-for-granted world, rather we use them as lens to enrich and expand our perspectives by having seen and been in places that surprise and jolt us. Our shared experiences with the Japanese and the communities locate us from an imagined reality of what we read, heard, and are told to a lived reality – our own life stories.

     From this fieldwork, we are encouraged to share what we saw, found, and learned because we are privileged to gain insights and learnings unknown to many who will also learn from what we saw, found, and learned. It is amazing to realize how far we have traveled and how long we have been traveling, and yet we haven’t really seen and been into the world after all. The world never fails to awe and surprise us however we try to make sense of it. And traveling through fieldwork is an invitation to see and experience the world again and again.

Motorcycles reign on Jakarta Streets

Let me begin by saying that I have been a pedestrian for so long as I could remember, and I am proud of it. Pedestrians, unite and walk!

One thing I could not miss noticing in Jakarta is the ubiquitous motorcycles. Every morning when I am on the way to ASEAN by a Metro Mini (mini-bus Jakarta style), a herd of black helmet and jacket-wearing motorcycle  riders swarms the streets of the eight-lane Mampang Prapatan up to the four-lane Kap Tendean. Mampang Prapatan's two-lanes in the middle are reserved for the exclusive use of TransJakarta buses.

One good thing about the Metro Mini buses is that they are loads of them with designated numbers. My bus is number 75. I have not seen number 1 though. But I saw number 610. There must be lots of them here. Creatively, they have the same color (combination of orange and blue). That's why I don't have to miss my number or else I will get somewhere in Jakarta, not my destination. I think I should try to be somewhere I don't know. Hmmmmm...

There is another Metro Mini buses named Kopaja. They are colored green and white. They have numbers too. They distract me whenever I am looking and waiting for my bus 75. I have the bus number on my wallet, cellfone, notebook, and on the first day, on my palm. Great way not to forget huh! Trust me, it works.

Anyway, from my house, I ride on a motorcycle or I have to walk 25 minutes in a "business causal" attire. Wow, you should see how Jakarta has changed me! I look good and feel good. Believe me, otherwise you're not my friend. Coincidentally, "Yakob" usually drives me to the busway. It costs me 5,000 rupiahs (1 peso = 200 rupiahs). It costs me more than riding a Metro Mini which charges 2,500 rupiahs. When "Yakob" learned that I am Filipino, he immediately blurted with a closed fist while driving, "Manny Pacquiao." He loves Pacquiao more than I do, I think. What's not to love in Pacquiao? He won again another title. This time in the lightweight division, and distinguishing himself as the only Asian to win championship titles in four different weight divisions.

Every corner of the streets in Mampang area has a pool of motorcycles waiting for passengers to take them somewhere. In my house, there are seven motorcycles and five cars parked inside the compound. We are, in my unofficial count, 15 tenants in the house. So only me and two more pedestrians who do not drive a fuel-powered transportation machine.

Based on a news report in Kompas June 6, 2008, there were about 45,948,747 motorcycles in Indonesia in 2007. It is almost 46 million motorcycles spread across the archipelago. With 222.1 million population, Indonesia has 1 motorcycle for every 5 persons. So Indonesia is basically running on motorcycles.

Whenever I go, I see very few people walk on the sidewalks or streets of Jakarta. Motorcycles become people's convention to move from one place to another. I understand that motorcycles move fast and can navigate the streets on their own way. Besides, they consume less gas than cars.

In the portion of Jakarta where I pass, deserted sidewalks are typical scenes. I and Biney (my classmate and co-intern in ASEAN) use the sidewalk with ease and leisure in the afternoon for strolling, under the shade of trees and cloud of gas-smoke. I look around.

Where have all the pedestrians gone?

They have taken over the streets of Jakarta, on their motorcycles.

Coming of Age: A boy's story

Recently, I watched a critically-acclaimed and socially informed Mexican movie, Y tu mama tambien (And your mother too). The movie follows the story of two adolescent boys as they get to know more of the world and themselves. The movie brought back good, fun-filled, and naughty memories of my youthful years, a quintessential journey from boyhood to manhood. In short, my youthful years were my coming of age, a rupture of innocence, a break of dawn, an awakening of impulse, a discovery of innate and group power, a redefinition of the meaning of existence, and a question of whys and why nots.

This is my story.

Attending an all-male high school, I was introduced to adam's fantasy and eve's physical beauty. Freudian id was the usual suspect in the pursuit of pleasure and happiness (most of the time, I mean the other for the other and vice-versa). This is characteristically of an adolescent state in which unfathomable energies, persistent urges, and indescribable excitements toward pleasure, anti-establishment, rule-breaking, and ground-testing and experimenting dominate the experiential reality of the growing adolescents. An association to a peer-group furthers and multiplies the energies, urges, and excitements of the unassuming adolescents. I joined and associated myself with varied groups I deemed helpful in my journey to immortality of the significance of the present.

I was initiated to enter adam's fantasy by an older eve. Indeed, the apple was very inviting to be taken and I did bite a bit of it. The swiftness of the bite and the size of it caused me to wonder, "that was it." I had been to the "heaven's mouth." I wanted more to explore, I longed to be in it again and again. But I could not. One time, two time, three time... I could not fill the feeling of emptiness and meaninglessness afterwards. That was my fall from paradise to a wordly living. That was a good fall, a surrender. I suddenly felt I was living a life, my own, my only one.

Since the fall, everyday has become a struggle, to find meaning in what I do, what I think, I become. My God has provided me one. That is enough, more than enough.

I was made to believe that I am different. I am no ordinary. Sadly, the dailiness of living reminds me of everyday's lost opportunities to be different, to be unordinary. At times, it is easy to be ordinary, to swim

 like a fish in an aquarium, to be a star with a borrowed glitter.

I was taught that excellence is what should drive me to be able to become and be. Service to others is where I can express this drive to excellence. I believe so. And I intend to do so.

And so I am living my story. There is no given line, no advanced script, only the character and the Writer; y mi mama tambien.

One day in the life of a Desaparecido: Remembering Jonas Burgos and others who disappeared fighting, believing

It’s been many nights since you last saw me. And I am not sure if you will see me ever again. I am somewhere here. Between the sky and earth, I live in my memory of life outside here, underneath the resplendent sky, on the goodness of the earth. You brought me outside and made me see the beauty of life and the world. Unlike here, devoid of what is outside, of life, of vibrant life.

I am somewhere here. Bound by darkness and solitude, I cling to the sound of your prayers. I could sense in the silence of this wickedness, your deep concern on me. For I feel consolation when I close my eyes and see your face near me, touching mine. Your hands bring warmth, your breath brings life. I could die in that thought, but you keep me going.

“You shall overcome this.”

That voice is my food, my nourishment, my hope. 

I am still somewhere here. Could you hear me?

I think they have taken away my voice. I could not even remember the sound of my name. The last time I shouted, my mind and heart were full of cries I could not express. I could only cry, but my tears have long been dried.

I am somewhere here. Please find me.

I would like to be back to your arms. To fight the coldness, I crumple myself like when I was inside you. The coldness has numbed me. I could not move from here. Each day, faintly I could say with all my will.

Here. Me.

I am not angry. I am not vengeful. No, I am not, forgotten.

Travel by studying abroad

Are you thinking of learning new language, meeting different people and culture, advancing your expertise and knowledge, and specializing in a field of your interest? Well, why not study abroad?

Studying abroad will provide you opportunities and possibilities of becoming better as a person regardless whether you are new graduate or working professionally. If you decide to pursue your thoughts, here are some practical steps to plan your graduate studies abroad.

First, know your interest and field that you want specialize on. You may already have these interest and field as your undergraduate course. This is important because interest and background will help in deciding which graduate course you plan to take. Second, search for universities that offer the specific course you want. The Times Higher Education (THE) has a yearly world university rankings. You may check on potential











universities and if they are particularly strong on the field you have chosen in the first step. You may ask your former teachers about your plan and seek their advice on what possible universities will be good for you. This initial contact with your former teachers will also serve as way of getting good letters of recommendations from them. Universities require such letters from former teachers to be admitted in the university. Third, if you have chosen a particular university, visit its website and know the facts, history, student population, professors, admission process, scholarships, accommodation and the city where it is located. You may pay a visit to the university if possible to feel its environment, people, and community. It will be great if you have relatives living in the area. They will become your connection to the city. Can you imagine yourself in that university and city? If not, go back to step 2. Fourth, get the information and details of admission processes especially the deadline. If you can apply online, go ahead. Make a checklist of the requirements. Many universities require some tests, such as English proficiency and Graduate Record Examination (GRE). You may contact the nearest test centers in your area for these examinations. Fifth and last, tell a friend or family member about your plan. This person will be your source of encouragement and assistance. S/he may even be more excited than you because s/he wants the best for you. And studying abroad is like a path leading to your best and the actualization of your potentials.

Do these practical steps in sequence. Do not dwell too much time on any of the steps. In graduate studies, time is essential because a graduate course programs can last up to two to three years for full-time students. Goodluck to you!

Tips and motivations for money savings: Travel with loved one

The first half of the year is over. The other half is just starting. One of my resolutions for this year is to save more money. I recognize that in order for me to save more, I must have a steady income stream. I may get it from my regular job, stipend from scholarship, online earnings, research and writing works, and tutorial jobs. Once I have this steady income stream, only then I can save money from my income sources.


We all have our own reasons why we need to save. In my case, I want to travel around Europe with my loved one. That is not at all a bad motivation to save some money.

I have three strategies to achieve my goal of saving more. One strategy is to cut my spending without compromising the necessities and some indulgencies of my own. I have identified various expenditures that can give me automatic savings if I dissuade myself from them. First, lunch meals are quite expensive at the university cafeteria. I can ask my host mother to prepare lunch for me or I can prepare sandwiches once a week. The potential amount saved for this is $50 a month or $600 in a year. Second, I will bring bottled water from my house to spare me from buying beverages at the cafeteria or elsewhere. Savings for this can be $15 a month or $150 in one year. Third, I will rent or borrow DVDs for movies to do away with going to the theaters. This will also lessen my transportation expenses of going to the movies. Estimated savings can reach at $10 a month or $120 in a year. Fourth, I will not drink more than two canned beers. It is good that I don't smoke but I can minimize it if I do. Approximate savings for this can be $10 monthly or $120 in one year. Fifth, I will use more the internet for its various free online services such as newspapers, SMS, messenger, banking, paying bills, and entertainment. Out of these things, the savings can run as much as $60 monthly or $720 in one year. Thus for the first strategy, it can make me save $145 monthly or $1710 in one year.

Another strategy which requires a rigid discipline is to have a buy-nothing or spend-nothing day in a week. So there will 48 days without spending cash out of the 365 days in one year. This will enable me to save about $500 in one year.

The last strategy is to open and maintain a bank account. There will be a fixed monthly deposit in the account to build up the savings while earning a decent interest. Estimated account balance at the end of the year is $3000.

All in all at the end of the year, the approximate savings due to these strategies will give me $5210. That is not bad for the first year of my personal savings build-up. Of course, for the next year, it will even be bigger and more. I will be on my way to an early, comfortable and worry-free retirement years.

But hey, I want to travel first, free of financial worries. See you around.

A Heartful Responsibility

I am the sixth child in a family. For a Filipino family, it was the average size at that time (now it becomes a little less than that). As the sixth child, my family called me “bunso” which means the youngest or last child. I was comfortable and got used with the name. I liked the idea of having most of the attention and less responsibility.

Then after six years, she came. My family did not take away my title as “bunso.” For the 7th child, they named her “darling.” Truly she is the darling of the family.

I had mixed feelings when she came. Disturbed.. anxious.. worried.. excited.. happy..

A year after as I watched her sleeping, I saw a sister, my little sister, my family’s darling. I had a singular feeling of light-heartedness, joy and cheerfulness. It was overwhelming. I wanted to touch her for the first time. I moved closer. I tipped her hand with my point finger. She held my finger tightly. I felt my sister. Her fragile hand gripped me as if telling me to stay. I did. That day the warmth and fragility of her hand, the calmness of her face, I felt responsiblity to another human being.

April 10, 2007… I joined 28 other Asians for the first batch of the Dual-Campus Intenational Peace Studies Program of the University for Peace and Ateneo de Manila University.

It only took a year that another batch came. I was simply glad to see another batch joining the program of Nippon Foundation. Classmate Y commented that the new batch looks “fresh.” Her comment made me wonder, what happened in a year to me? Have I become “old” or “matured” or “unfresh?”

Jack Maresca and Fr. Ben Nebres, S.J. highlighted my possible role as agents of change in the world. Indeed, my studies, lectures, discussions, readings at UPeace and Ateneo have provided a lens and mind to view the world. Somehow, I have come to make sense of the geohistorical contexts of the many conflicts and violence in the world. The expansion and deepening of my knowledge on these contextual factors corresponds to my growing desire to make a difference in the world. The world becomes my world, our world. It also becomes smaller, closer, and real, just like my sister.  It dawned on me this sense of responsibility to the world. It motivates me to understand more. And with understanding, it calls for my actions.

What I lack though is the heart. This can’t be provided by my studies. Openess and acceptance have led me to have a heart for my sister. I believe openess and acceptance of the mision and calling can be the key to awaken my heart to the reality of the mision and calling.

I think this makes me “unfresh.” A year after being in this program, I am disturbed.. anxious.. worried.. excited.. happy. Disturbed because new knowledge and insight everyday.. Anxious because of the unclear yearend ahead of me (what will I do and become).. Worried because of the challenge of the world possibly unmet.. Excited because of the clarity of our calling, mision.. Happy because of the coming of another batch in the program (which means I have companions).

I am part of the first batch of the program. A year after the opening of the program, I like the situation of seeing the second batch getting the most attention.  And I like too the feeling of having  responsibility, to the world including the next batch.

Here comes the Groom: Man's inside thoughts on marriage

When a man in his 30s has a girl, thoughts on marriage are inevitable. And it does not help that friends and families bring the question in the open; when will you marry her? 

I am in 30s now. Ten years ago, a thought like this was unimaginable to cross my mind. Now, this unimaginable thought is able to penetrate my radar of thoughts. It becomes real. And it demands serious thinking. I will have to settle down and find a partner in life. After flying and roaming around, the idea of settling down becomes a reasonable option. In short, marriage is a looming and emerging reality thought for me.
 
What is marriage for a man in his 30s? It brings clarity to what he wants in life. It is companionship in the tumultuous journey of self-fulfillment and maturity. It is a rite of passage from a free-spirited man to a responsible husband. And more importantly, it is a decision to be with someone for the rest of his life.Yes, I am in 30s. By this time, I was told, that I should have known what I wanted to become and I should be on my way of becoming what I wanted. The distractions of being single do not help in clearing and simplifying what I wanted. Most of my friends are now married and few are planning to get married soon. In gatherings such as class reunions, family get-togethers, church and organization meetings, one common question I frequently encounter is, “Are you married?” It is a question that I could easily dismiss and answer, “No!” But now the thought of marriage is more real than the question asked and the answer given. 
 
Being in 30s carries a bundle of considerations before making the decision. One of which is my friends. If I get married, I will spend less time with them. I remember the time when my mother invited me to go with her to go shopping. I declined to go with her. My mother noticed that I was spending less time with her. Well, I did not notice that. I thought it was part of growing up. So probably, marriage too is part of growing up since i will be spending less time with my friends. Another consideration is my dream. I wanted to write a book. I believe that I have saved enough materials in my mind to begin writing it. The materials have even started to wake me in the middle of the nights and come to life to disturb my consciousness. I have doubts if a woman out there can share that dream with me and understand my passion for sharing my ideas and experiences through writing.   
    
The thought has so far brought me here and now. They say that I am not getting any younger anymore. I admit that the thought has made me thinking. I believe that the true measure of a man is to translate this thought into action and reality. Allow me to think about that.

Yes, I will marry her, soon.

Seeing through Rembrandt in Costa Rica

After the Holy Week, I ought to write about an image that kept on flashing on my mind. An image that consumed me for 20 minutes when I saw it. I felt at that time I existed for that image, to be awed, to be still, to interrogate my faith, to see myself through that image.


My last days in Costa Rica were capped by a visit to museum. The Museo del Banco Central  de Costa Rica brought 56 original sketches of Rembrandt to San Jose, Costa Rica. It was a rare and probably once in a lifetime chance to see original Rembrandt.

It was Saturday. I was set to leave Costa Rica on Monday at 3AM. There were parties (fiestas) waiting to be crashed/attended. I chose to see Rembrandt.

Who is Rembrandt to me? I have a sketchy knowledge about Rembrandt. What I know  is that he produced images from the Bible. He brought to life some of the famous Biblical scenes.

Outside the museum, there were many people waiting and wanting to see Rembrandt. As I was waiting for my turn,  I was able to practice my scant Spanish with a Tica student. I asked her why she came to see Rembrandt. She told me that she had nothing to do. Ironically, I was there, not because I had nothing to do. In fact, I had so many things to do.

When I finally got inside the museum, I lost her company and her name too. I started to look at the sketches.. black and white…hummmm…. hmmmmm…. dark and light… hmmmmmm…. contrast.. harmony.. hmmmmmm..

Then I saw her at a distance.. then I saw an image… the three crosses.. I saw my salvation.. I saw glory, my own.. I breathed life and death… I felt heaven dawning, here, now.. I heard songs of praise.. I thought victory, triumph of good.. I thought surrender, yielding to the light from Above.. I was nothing.

Then I lost her again.. I felt I lost myself when I went out of the museum. I saw everything around the plaza de la cultura.. They all made sense, colorful. It was like seeing them the first time, like a child seeing things.
Seeing Rembrandt is seeing life in, with me; seeing life in it, with it.

I wondered what the Tica student had done after seeing Rembrandt – still had nothing to do. I doubted.

My heart is lost somewhere; have you found it?

I don’t have class today. No classes until January 10. No more late nights for reading and rushing papers to meet the deadliest deadline. No catching up with the school bus at “chepe monge” at 8:30am. No “gallo pinto” for breakfast. No gaby for lunch. No tutorials in mathematics for Hannah and Seth. No emails from the department or classmates. No more raining in the afternoon. No more use for the umbrella.

 These have been the things I am used to have for the past four months.

When I go out in the afternoon, the breeze accompanies me to where I don’t know where I am going. I walk on the same road which becomes unfamiliar to me. Even to some dogs of my neighbors, I become a stranger. They bark the way they barked the first time they had seen me four months ago. Some leaves are scattered, together with the memories of new year’s celebration. Some stones are unturned and grounded, some roll as I make contact with them. I sing the same song as I walk.  I see the lush green landscape beyond Ciudad Colon.  Some birds hover at a distance. I used to remember someone beyond the hills, at a far distance; someone’s heart beats for me. Sychronization of heartbeat with mine. The language of heartbeat breaks barriers of space and time.

Now, no more. I could not hear her heart beating for me anymore. My heart beats. It is lost somewhere, beyond the hills. The birds could not guide it.  I could not help it.

I don’t have class today. Yet I don’t feel like celebrating. I don’t feel like on vacation. I feel like… I am losing my heartbeat. For someone, or no one, out there.

If you find it, please catch it and you'll be blessed by the power of love more than you can imagine.

Tratado Libre de Commercio (TLC): 2007 Costa Rica referendum

As a graduate student of United Nations-mandated University of Peace (UPeace) in Costa Rica, I was accredited as an international electoral observer by the Tribunal Supremo de Elecciones (Electoral Tribunal) in the historic referendum in Costa Rica. It was the first referendum in the country, and also the first referendum in the world to seek the approval from the people of a free trade agreement or Tratado Libre de Commercio (TLC), in this case the Central American Free Trade Agreement (CAFTA) with the United States. 

When I was preparing to go out that Sunday morning to begin the task as an observer, my host brother told me that he had already voted. So I learned that the polling stations opened as early as 6AM, particularly in Ciudad Colon.

From Ciudad Colon where most of the 27 international observers from UPeace are staying, a bus brought us to Raddison Hotel in San Jose, the capital of Costa Rica, for a briefing. After that, we were ready to go.

Few cars were plying the streets of San Jose. Most shops were closed. Near the churches and polling stations were the cars mostly concentrated and parked that day. Most Cantones (Towns) in Costa Rica have their church, government hall, school, and plaza near each others’ location.

Polling stations were inside the schools. Outside the schools, there were the unmistakable booths of the two sides, YES and NO camps. Vendors of campaign paraphernalias, drinks and snacks were stationed near the school. People were free to express their stance on the issue by wearing campaign T-shirts, pins, caps, and henna tattoos on their faces and bellies. Voters came at the polling stations with their kids and family. I saw children and young people playing with football inside the school or simply running and playing around. People were greeting each other left and right and exchanging pleasantries, causing narrow hallways congested with people. It was a festive and jovial atmosphere.

Notably prior to the election date, I witnessed a huge gathering of those who opposed TLC at downtown San Jose. It was estimated that more than 100,000 people were in attendance – the biggest assembly in a country of more than 4 million people. Sea of people poured in the main street of San Jose wearing the flag colors. Music was coming from loud speakers and also from drum and bugle corps, and people were just bouncing to the rhythm of the music. Vendors were selling souvenirs and food. It was a festival. Yet it was also a protest against TLC. During speeches, people were attentive and applauded intermittent instances with the deafening chant of NO T-L-C which sent emotions high. I felt it when my heartbeat pumped rapidly; my bones felt weak; and sudden coldness breezed causing a certain tightness on my skin.

When voting, people had to look at their names on the list of voters posted outside a polling room. Each list had a maximum number of voters of 700. Only three voters at a time were allowed inside the room. Inside a polling room, voters presented their national ID or “cedula” with pictures. Then, they got a ballot and filled that ballot with their choice.

With my little Spanish, I was able to chat with one voter outside a school. I asked him if he lives near the polling station. The man said that his place is far, but he was waiting for a bus commissioned by the Electoral Tribunal to fetch and pick voters from far places. Incidentally, I saw a bus coming with a Si (Yes) posters infront of it and on the sides. The man got inside the bus and waved at me when he got his seat.

After visiting three schools, we decided to go to the office of the Electoral Tribunal. Inside, we saw a hundred people queuing either to have their new cedula or renew it.

In the evening, we were invited to the announcement of a preliminary result at the Electoral Tribunal office. Outside the building, there were about 20 young people who were shouting NO T-L-C. People inside the building were unmindful of what was going on outside. At 9 PM, the tribunal announced that the Si (YES) was leading the No by a slim margin of 51.6% to 48.4% of nearly 60% turn out. To make it binding, the referendum is required to have at least 40% turn out.

There was an immediate celebration of the Yes camp at the La Sabana Park while there were also some reports of disturbances like burning of posters and street signs in the city by unidentified people. But no killings related to the referendum were reported.

The president of the country and a Nobel Peace Laureate, Oscar Arias, called on the No camp for reconciliation. However, some people in the No camp rejected this and cited electoral fraud and anomalies.

            To be part of this political exercise in a foreign country especially in Costa Rica was quite an experience. I saw a fair, peaceful, and orderly election. It was what Costarincces take pride on what they have become and what they could offer to the world, aside from their abolition of their army.

  

Look up, look far, and look beyond

                                                                                     Look up!
When I was a kid, I learned to pay respect by extending my hand to hold the person’s hand and knocking that hand on my forehead while bowing. In my culture, the gesture is called “bisa” in Bikol  or “mano” in Tagalog. It is customary to bow and say “po” to the elders.

Bowing in many cultures is a sign of respect to elders. Then, colonialism bastarded the meaning of bowing as submission and sign of inferiority, regardless of age. So it was common sight to see local elders bowing to young foreign colonizers. Another notion on bowing is that it is being connected to humility (I am no worthy, plus bow! as popularized in a certain movie). It is exemplified when one is praised for doing excellently (magaling or maorag in Bikol), and usually that person will bow and denounce the praise as untrue (hindi naman o tsamba lang). I say this is not humility, nor respect. If we truly respect our skills, ourselves, and capabilities, we will not bow; instead we will look up and say, “thank you.” That is humility. That is respect.

Look far!
At times, we are so concerned of our territory. Animals as we are, we do establish our territorial dignity. We feel attached to wherever we are situated. This is shown when someone says something bad to our place, we feel offended. We build our world around that place where we are. We take pleasure and contentment in the familiarity and ordinariness of our place and people. This can be observed in the locations where students normally sit. Day after day, they will be comfortable sitting in one location. It is like the movies of our favorite actors or directors, our favorite food, our close friends. Because they are familiar, we repeatedly take refuge in the psychological continuities of our stories and boundaries of our world.

Are we missing something? For some, they believe they don’t miss anything. But I will argue that we do. We deprive ourselves of the spatial extension of ourselves, of seeing new things, of discovering, of being surprised, of detaching, and of course, of failing. So many things to learn, to do, to think, and with all those things, we can be assured that there are many more out there. Can you see them?

Look beyond!
Unknowingly for us, there exists a horizon where other people live. And when we know about that horizon and the existence of others and their differences from us, we feel scared. We are intimidated by the knowledge,  sight and sound of the uncommon. It is OK. At least, we know that we are not alone, and we are not the world.

Let me take your hand, or take my hand.. Let us together look up…. look far… and beyond