Counting Potatoes

From the Frying Pan into the Fire

...let NatGeo Take you to a place where conformity is a way of life and blind obedience a norm...

... Inside North Korea, saturday 9pm..

An ad about a NatGeo special documentary goes..

But for a moment there, before the country was mentioned, I was almost expecting a natgeo documentary about our chinese grade/highschool.

You see I've spent 12 years of my life in a closed system Chinese catholic school and in all my 12 years of study there, we've had a total of 2 new classmates who have transferred in from another school.

Needless to say, we had to make do with the same people and faces for almost half of our entire lives: 12 freakin years 8am to 5pm. The same girls we've seen from kinder pee or poo in their skirts became the same girls had our first encounters with love with and took to the prom. It was like a survivor series that ran 12 years long: 2 years kindergarten, 6 years grade school and 4 years high school.

The school graduation song even goes "recall the first time you entered school, you were barely 2 feet tall..

...Now look you've grown so tall"

I wonder if prison mates or residents of the gulag have similar versions of this song?..

Back to my story..

Our school were run by Chinese Catholic Priests with kung fu skills. Imagine karate chops, flying blackboard erasers and walking canes that suddenly transforms into wicked fighting sticks and you get the idea. Some local schools boast of student discipline. Well, of course, there is the Filipino definition and there's the Chinese one. Imagine a school where everyone moves around as if they were on the deck of Darth Vader's Star Destroyer - that's Chinese discipline. In fact, we even used to hum the Darth Vader tune (complete with Darth Vader's breathing sounds ) whenever we were in line and the discipline coordinator was moving around. We may not have CAT then, but we lived and breathed its essence everyday.


Regulation haircut for boys was the Jose Rizal hairstyle, for girls it was maria clara. Uniforms had strict length requirements, go a bit overboard and you just might find yourself in your briefs in some hole in the wall room furiously sewing your pants to regulation length.


Any form of intimacy was frowned upon. Holding hands in public was seen as indecent (kissing was porno) and going to a movie when on a date - a mortal sin. Thus you either wind up as a prude or a sex maniac in college, he he.


There were no student councils, no organized protests, no union, no school paper, nothing whatsoever that would serve as the seeds of a school revolution. If you had a complaint about how the school was run, you file for transfer to another one. As the borgs say "Resistance is futile". It was that simple.


Well, those 12 years have come and gone - along with 5 near expulsion incidents. Add 10 years more and I look back and sometimes wonder how it would be like to wake up one morning back in 1995 to the smell of an early breakfast and the sight of freshly ironed brown khaki pants and white polo?


How would it feel to attend the 7am flag ceremony, 8am-5pm classes especially the Chinese language subjects, take part in laboratory activities, first Friday masses, or the bedlam of recces?


How would it feel like to go back in time before bills, work, car gas, rent, medical insurance and baby diapers - when life revolved around allowance, love life and friends?


For all its drawbacks, somehow I miss the simplicity of school life.


This must be how Adam felt when he ate the forbidden fruit. ehe he he..

	From the Frying Pan into the Fire

Practical Valentine's

Thank God my puberty days are over and Valentines has settled to become one of those special but not nerve wracking, mushy but not corny, costly but not outrageously expensive holidays. Used to be, Valentines, was one of those potential landmine or jackpot day of the year. Girls would bring out their scorecards and guys would be all out prunning themselves like peacocks hoping to score some points - kinda like an unnoficial mating season special for the homo sapien species where the males put their best foot forward, shop like crazy for the mushiest gifts and prettiest flowers, spray themselves full with expensive perfumes, (some even buy a new set of clothes), and memorize/practice in front of the mirror those God-awful puke inspiring lines they've taken from some Valentine's card or romantic movie.

Trust me on this. This is not an exaggeration. I've been to enough college dorms and seen enough boardmates go through this painful yearly ritual to write a book about the subject. Most girls are not aware of it, but Valentine's for guys (especially the highschool and college ones) are worthy of complex battle plans, back-up strategies and complicated scenario building sessions - kinda like the entrapment operations you see in gus abelgas' XXX show or the CSI.

As with most valentine's battle plans though, the greatest flaw stems from the fact that most of the advice used to make such plans are given by guys just as naive as the guys using it. The blind leading the blind or so they say and the only ones ahead in the game are those who have helpful older (5 years or so )brothers or sisters (more effective), friends or those who are obsessive enough to have scoured the net for some ideas. Experience, after all is still the best teacher.

So for those who have read this far, here are some tips and things to remember for this year's Valentine Circus.

Note: the author will not be responsible for any break-ups, cool offs, or any other date disasters arising from following the advices on this post.

1. The KISS principle and Murphy's Law

Keep it simple, stupid, because according to Murphy's law, everthing that's bound to go wrong will indeed do. Valentine battle plans that involves a hundred balloons to be set free at the right moment, coordinated fireworks, doves, a thousand flowers and candles rarely take off without a hitch, moreoever unlike in Filipino movies, people don't clap their hands when you shout your love and kneel before your girl in public (this only happens in movies). You're more likely to elicit snickers and muffled laughter for your trouble.

So stick to easy to follow plans like a simple movie, a valentine's concert or a romantic candlelit dinner. Save the special moves for less stressful days (the flowers and balloons will be a lot cheaper then and you're more likely to catch her with her pants down - literally).

2. The Valentine's Pareto Principle

Their drills were bloody battles and their battles bloody drills.

Someone once wrote this line about Ceasar's army and its success. Same goes to any valentine's plan. The more you prepare and practice your lines beforehand (if you're still this corny), the less buckets you will sweat and the less you will stutter your lines come d-day.

Do recon the place you're going to eat in too. You wouldnt want to end up dressing like the waiters or wearing clothes the exact same pattern as the table cloth or wallpaper when the time comes.

While you're at it, check out the menu and the prices. Many a valentine's date have ended in disaster because the guy had to ask the girl to foot the bill.

3. Masturbate before the date

... that's something you don't see in valentine articles everyday. He he he. But according to my college friend, sexual tension is actually the cause of most date disasters. Guys tend to stutter while maneuvering the conversation towards more intimate topics, hands tend to shake, the senses tend to become overloaded and the brain drunk with endorphins.. Ergo you end up looking un-suave, uncool and unexperienced all because of unreleased sexual tension.

If you think this piece of advice is applicable to you and if you want to be as suave as Bond, James Bond on the Big night, please do it before you take a bath. You don't want to end up smelling like bleach all night long. Wahaha!

4. Surefire Topic for the Date

Many guys spend a lot of time obsessing over what he will say or talk about come the big date when the answer is actually very simple - Its all about her. Her favorite books, songs, diets, movies, brand of tampoons, tv series, etc, etc, etc.

So practice your 'I'm very interested in what you're saying even though i dont understand half of it' look and brush up your conversational skills like saying 'aaahhhhh', 'that's interesting', 'you're right', 'so what did you do?, 'serves her right' at the appropriate moments. Think of yourself as the character in the RPG games you're playing programmed to utter phrases at the click of the mouse.

"battlecruiser operational"

"valkyrie prepared"

"ghost ready"

5. Happy are those who dont expect too much for they will not be disappointed

This means, guys, dont expect scoring first base immediately after your expensive valentine's date. Oh I know you'll deny this outright but at the back of your mind, I know this is the capping stone in your Valentine's plan. Girls, if you dont believe this, check your date's wallet and 9 out of 10, you'll find a condom somewhere in it somewhat like a victory cigar (which you'll be smoking).

Don't let this thought become your date handicap! You wouldnt want to find your dick hanging out your pants on a false alarm! He he he. Focus instead on the mushy aspects of Valentine's and load up on all the mushy points you can get your hands on. Think of it as the bonus round where you collect all them gold coins to be cashed in later in the game. Hold her hand while crossing the street, open doors for her, read some poetry, etc. It's only a day! There are 364 days more for your diabolical plans. He he

So goodluck and good hunting. Remember that for this day, it's your primary head that should be doing the thinking. ^_^

	Practical Valentine's

Remember

One cannot begin to describe the anguish of having 27 years of memories of having a father grinding to a stop in a single day. I have lived through this day a thousand times in my mind when I knew he was dying but no amount of preparation and acceptance could blunt the pain of final farewells to someone we love.

Things that once littered the house now serves testament to a presence that will never be shared again, the boots he used to bring to the farm, the tools he so lovingly kept, the folders he brought home from work, the sandals he used to wear.. are suddenly all that's left of a loving father who has graced our lives.

Life has to go on and in time they say that the wounds will heal and the memories fade. But in the tradition of the pharaohs and their pyramids, the Aztecs and their temples, the loved queen and the Taj Mahal, I hope remembrance will defy the finality of death and the passing of a life once lived. Let my memories serve as the bricks for my father's monument and cyberspace its foundation.

Kindergarten

I remember thinking when we could stop, pee and stretch our legs as we're headed to tiwi (3 kids and 2 parents) on a motorcycle.

I remember getting my ass whipped because we killed our pet turtle.

I remember us walking on our father's back because he says its back massage.

I remember learning how to write using the tracing paper he used to bring home.

I remember us falling in line so that we could have our turn being hand-fed by our father.

I remember papa crying because of frustration, his fists bunched at his sides because he did not want to hit mama.

Gradeschool

I remember papa and me skipping lunch because we had to finish Battle City, a Nintendo game.

I remember the weekends out where our whole family would eat Graceland pizza, Halo-halo and bartillos.

I remember the yearly summer trips to sorosogon, where papa could spend some time with his cousins and we could while away time filching pili candies.

I remember our family spending one summer near the beach in Tiwi

I remember Midnight, the black puppy papa took home from Tiwi.

I remember us falling in line so that we can take turns welcoming (making mano po) our father home whenever he comes home from work and kissing his cheek as he go to work early in the morning.

I remember some afternoons spent with him, watching reruns of Star Wars movies.

I remember Santa Claus, the stories of how we just missed seeing him, the letters in the tree, the new set of clothes for our xmas party and the gifts and noche buena at Xmas eve.

I remember the drives around the town as he toured us to see the Xmas belens and xmas lights of Naga City.

I remember us spending the night outside the house because he locked us out and he was mad about us coming home late.

I remember how we shop around for school supplies at the start of every school year. Glossy brand new notebooks all line up and a pencil case full of new pens inside the bag.

Highschool

I remember being kicked out the house because of not helping out in moving our things to another apartment.

I remember being surprised at him attending my YFC (youth for Christ) closing ceremony (a deeply emotional affair which he usually avoids).

I remember the family trips to the local cinema where we would wait for the last full show of the movie.

I remember him getting mad at me for spending too much time playing the Command and Conquer strategy game late at night, when he himself got so much more addicted to the same game when he tried it out. General Red.

I remember our solo trips to the cinema to watch Sci-fi films (contact, Star Trek, etc) because nobody else wanted to come with us. Also, I remember the sound effects he used to make as he tells the story over the table afterwards.

I remember the day when they finally dropped me off in my first college boarding house and how hesitant they were in leaving me there.

College

I remember when he came with me to Intramuros to help me gather materials for my first college report for my History class.

I remember the trips to the farm and how we would talk about crop yields and how big the farm was before. Mostly, I remember how we would just stand side by side looking at the farm in comfortable silence.

I remember the nights where I would travel from diliman to ayala just so i could sleep over in his airconditioned room, eat chef salad and watch movies with him in Glorietta whenever he was in Manila.

I remember papa trying to teach me how to drive and failing.

I remember us trying to hide our smoking habits from our father. His acceptance of the fact and our smoking sessions together.

I remember him playing the "strangers in the night" song in the organ and how Nasser sang along with it.

I remember papa waking me up very early in the morning, all dressed in running shoes and shorts, just to ask me if I wanted to jog and my grumpy reply.

I remember papa and me window shopping in a Glorietta toy store, drooling over a remote controlled helicopter.

I remember him convincing our mother to buy a PS1 console because we kids 'wanted' it when in fact, it was he who was itching to bring home the unit.

I remember him bringing home dance pads for our PS1, pretending to be bored, then dancing with us.

Post College

I remember him being very very smug for completing all the single player medals in Command and Conquer Zero Hour and how he challenged me to beat 3 brutal enemy armies.

I remember how shocked he looked when I beat him in his own strategy game when we played against each other over a local network. General Red Vs. General Gasparov. Since then, I teased him by asking if he would like to play against the most brutal of armies.

I remember our trips together to the massage parlor and how he would complain about the sadistic masseuse afterward.

I remember how manay jing used to tease him with an ice cube (he jumps when touched by cold objects).

I remember our weekend Badminton games with lala and bhenki where we would spend one hour or so sweating and feeling smug about our rare exercise sessions.

I remember eating out or having coffee with bhenki, mama and papa late at night everytime we withdrew our salaries from the bank.

I remember the coffee conversations, the political debates and discussions about the Iraq war. I remember how he used to say that the war would've been long over if we just nuke the talibans.

I remember how he would holler when our favorite shows in discovery channel are shown, future weapons, mission to mars, etc and how he would launch into a full blown commentary during the show.

I remember his hyena-like laugh, where his eyes would all crinkle up and his hands would slap at the table as we joked about out of this world scenarios like tia caring doing the matrix or a high tech fortress like house or state of the art yacht during a world famine.

I remember how his eyes twinkled at the mention of 'picha', nachos, chef salad, marigoso salad or 'burjer'.

I remember how fascinated he was with our online work and his suggestions.

I remember him sneaking foodstuffs and fruits in my shopping cart as i do the monthly grocery, my mock exasperation and his sheepish grin.

I remember him bringing home the very first piglet for our hog raising venture.

I remember his stories about how Lola made her fortune and about how he also decided to finally take life seriously and work hard when he had his own kids.

I remember how we used to plan how we would renovate our home and apartment.

I remember his wind powered water pump project and how we used to discuss how to make it work.

Post stroke

i remember how hard i prayed to God that papa will be ok as i waited for a ride home, how i almost fainted when the doctor said that they might have to drill a hole in his head and how happy i was that he was able to recover his movements days after his stroke.

I remember him promising me that he will be fine in time for the harvest and discussing with me how to manage the farm.

I remember being so mad at him at insisting on a cig, how i pushed and shouted at him after slapping the cig stick from his hands and how he quit afterward when given one pack.

I remember being so mad at him and avoiding him for not exercising to regain his strength and focusing instead in wanting daily body massage.

I remember dragging him back to his room when he tried to slap the wires with a stick during an electrical failure.

I remember him having his second stroke, the doctors report of an undiagnosed cancer and the low hopes of the doctors for papa surviving the year.

I remember papa asking me to teach him how to pray the rosary after his last confession.

I remember writing papa a text message hoping that he'll find happiness and pride in the life he'd lived and to forgive me for focusing on my fears instead of the love we all have for him.

I remember having high hopes with the herbal medicines delivered from manila.

I remember spending time with him, massaging his tired arms and legs, helping him sit up, listening to his mp3 music and trying to memorize every aspect of his face, hoping against hope he feels the love and concern i have for him even without words and that it was not too late for him to recover.

I remember him dying on a Thursday night surrounded by his family whispering their love and their prayers in his ear, how much they are proud of him and how much he means to us...

I remember him strong, his expression wakanga, the sound of his footsteps as he climbs up the stairs, the belt bag slung over his shoulder, and the faraway look in his eyes as he watched his last harvest in the farm.

I remember the box we placed in his grave containing his cig case, his nail care set, his vicks inhaler, his favorite games, his TV remote, his slingshot, his wallet and anything else he might need for his trip.

Its the little things I miss the most and are somehowthe most painful to remember. His quiet presence, riding at the back of the car with him at the wheel, watching sci fi movies with him, our yosi sessions together, coffee conversations, his corny jokes and a thousand other things I have always taken for granted.

I remember and I will remember even if it opens the wounds of a thousand what if's and what could've beens each and everytime...

I will remember...

Not to take anything in life for granted...

That every little thing pales to insignificance when someone you love is dying...

To show love each day as I'll never know what tomorrow will bring..

To forgive, to listen, to understand...

I will remember papa so that my own kids will know what their lolo was like when he was alive.

I will remember, for remembrance is the only way i can still be with my father.

Till we see each other again Pa.

	Remember