December 10th, 2008
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Amsterdam brothels are those places where women pose in windows, so men (or women) can simply window- shop for women they want to have sex with. Having lived in the Netherlands for two years, I had been to those brothels many times, seen the women in all their grandeur, admired those with Coca-Cola figures and silently booed the grannies. I was not there for sex tripping, by the way. The locations of these legalized Amsterdam sex arenas, popularly known as “Amsterdam red light districts,” are strategically set up so that whenever I had to go to the mall to shop, I would never miss to pass by them. They are everywhere.
It is like your regular window shopping on the sidewalk. However, instead of mannequins in fashion wear that are being displayed behind the clear glass windows, half-naked girls and fat old grannies in varied skin colors stand or sit (they do whatever they like) on small chairs with desire to ensnare locals and snooping foreigners for some “short times.”
December 1st, 2008
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Love must withstand the strongest of winds. Whatever it takes, hold on to it.
Let me detail the story of my Dutch friend Jacque; hers is a poster family for divorce. She was five when her mom discovered that her dad was having an affair with another woman. The discovery sparked series of unhealthy events between her parents, which eventually ended up in a divorce. For a while, Jacque and her younger sister bounced around between their parents before their grandparents had the custodial responsibilities. The custody issue confused her as much as the reason why her mom did not even attempt to acquire the rights to keep them both. Her mom frequented the night bars and so did her dad.
November 26th, 2008
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I pondered on how God has viewed our being individuals whose moment of stillness has not been so apparently fulfilled. The line in the bible that says “Be still, and know that I am God” really means, in its complete contemporary biblical setting, “Cease, relax, and shut up! Spare time for me and know that I am God”. In one of Fr. Paul’s homilies last holy week, the same verse came out and I was taken back to the time when I devotedly listened to God in the stillness of my heart.
Knowing that I haven’t read anything religious printed in the Collegian since I started writing late last year, I thought that this will be the start of something different. Few days ago, someone close to me asked, “Are you not reluctant to write about God in your column?” “With what God has done for me all these years, writing won’t even be enough”, I answered without reservations.
November 21st, 2008
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Among the popular theories of the origin of the term HOBO, I chose the contraction of HOmeward BOund. There is only one reason for opting that. This article is about Brule. About home.
Watching and listening to Brule and the AIRO band on the night of Friday the 13th, established a thought that home is where the real music is. Paul LaRoche (stage name: Brule) through his distinct Native American music, inspired the audience with his family life – how tensions became triumphs, how identity and reconciliation fulfilled a dream and how his love for his family and culture sent a message of hope to all those who continually love his music.
November 8th, 2008
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The efforts of the Department of Education in the Philippines are nothing but little in comparison to the major bottlenecks facing the nation’s education system today.
I share the same thoughts with those who desire that the education in my country be given much bigger priority with regards to government attention and annual budget. You would agree with me that everyone has the right to quality education. It is the sure key to breaking the cycle of poverty and providing every youth better opportunities and venues to lead better lives. The quality of life for the future Filipino generations depends on the augmentation of the knowledge and skills through good education.
November 6th, 2008
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I do not care about evidences of heartburn, anxiety, high blood pressure, hyperactivity and many others that caffeine, a type of drug or stimulant found in coffee beans, appears to be a causal factor. Let the medical experts and researchers keep themselves busy gathering compelling evidences of the side effects of drinking coffee, just let me have my daily dose of caffeine.
When I was still in the Philippines, there was one coffee shop that I spent most of my “coffee night” in. Bo’s coffee club was my source of a short mug of dark brewed coffee that went very well with my attempts in solving three crossword puzzles from three news dailies. Most of the time, I went home with the “across” and “down” filled to the last box. Coffee had something to do with my every crossword puzzle success.
October 31st, 2008
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Whenever you hear a non-native English speaker, a Filipino specifically, uttering broken “carabao” English, or a version you are not used to hearing, please reserve your criticism. Entertain, instead, the notion that the English language might be evolving, that nobody owns the language any longer. To a certain extent, it is already shared across continents and cultures. Just as there are American English (read: the ever prestigious), British English, Canadian English, Australian English and Indian English, there is also Philippine English. In this day of unimaginable innovation, English is no longer a singular term. Numerous Englishes exist around the world!
“You are like constipation, you take my breath away.” Here are two more: “My blockmates and I took on different roles as Supreme Court Justices.” “I stayed in some barong-barong in town.” These are sample lines to show that we, Filipinos, are fond of coining, compounding and innovating words to make it our own. The use of mate is basically abused. We can connect it to any existing noun to create new words with new meanings. So what if “every now and then” means “often” to majority of our locals when in standard American English it means “occasionally”?
October 21st, 2008
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“Each second, the leaves shiver at every passing breeze, a little too afraid that they might shake off from their tight cling. Every day is a decision for them to either stay on top or to let go. Every falling is not dying; it’s a sweet touch of God.”
She said “I love you” and hung up the phone. A little girl ran towards her asking “Is daddy at work?” She nodded and gave the child a tight hug – a profound love that very instant, I saw.
I was glancing at them, a photo-perfect mother-daughter pair under the shade of a pale green tree. Leaves were falling on them and sprinkling her every kiss attempt and the girl’s every giggle of anticipation.
