Activism 102

This is the group picture of over 60 participants at the Mekong ICT Camp (with special thanks to Klaikong who owns the picture). I’m proud to be one of them, even though my role was one of the facilitators. Can you trace me in this picture?

It was a great pleasure to meet with tech siblings from various parts of Asia last night. It was already 12:30 am by my machine clock (which remains set to +8 timezone) but I didn’t feel any sign of enervation from my long day (I had waited over an hour at the long queue for the Suvarnabhumi Airport passport control and spent another hour walking here and there at the exit area to look for peeps assigned to fetch me).

Look who these tech siblings I met were: Klaikong, Bobby, Andy, Allen, Sam, and Wai. After taking dinner at 9pm, the gang met at the Santi Room in about half an hour. The only thing (but not necessarily the easy one) discussed was the schedule. Bobby started the ball rolling by proposing that the Mekong ICT Camp be hewed to the Asiasource camp setup: All tracks in the morning, all breakout sessions in the afternoon. (Images of Allen Gunn and Tactical Tech peeps came to mind.)

Colleagues were fastidious; I wasn’t. I’m sure they observed so. Honestly, I came to the camp solely for the Track 3: Computer Networking. I was particularly concerned on how that track (where there will be only 7 participants [out of 60 plus]) would turn out. My silent attitude was: “Just get it over with and let me proceed with developing my module on wired networking.”

Nevertheless, I was still pleased to meet with these techie guys (I feel sad that there were no techie gals) and beating brains out while peeling, biting, chewing and swallowing sweet-smelling Thai oranges.

“Want a beer?”

This invite from friend Arnold T. has been sitting in the queue of requests on my Facebook account. In fact, I also got a couple of “booze mails” already which I just ignored (sorry to friends who sent them) and failed to send virtual drinks to others as a way to “pay it forward”.

But that invite from Arnold is still there. I just feel amused at the sight of his avatar. He looks like a genius monk (baldheaded and wearing eyeglasses) with the neck of a bottle of Red Horse touching his forehead. That reminds me of my personality back in my college days. I was a person who could not last being a religious person in the midst of a mundane world of Quiapo, where MLQU was located. Love for beer and company of barkada, the very precursors of over-indulgence, were the main factors why I couldn’t even pretend to be like an ascetic. I have to admit that I was heavily influenced by fellas (some of them better off) to get hooked to mundane stuff like being in drink binges. I also have to admit that, in turn, I was an influence to others my junior.

The only consolation I had (for failing to be a faith worker) back then was my being a social activist. I spent two years in college (and then many years in my NGO work since then) being part of the larger community that wanted real better change in society. Guilt of not loving God eloped me from then on.

The love for beer extended to my being part of the country’s labor. Over ten years ago, I made it a habit to frequent a jazz bar in Malate after work, drinking at least four bottles of San Miguel Beer pale pilsen. Sometimes I did it with co-workers, sometimes I did it alone. (I developed love for jazz along with my addiction to drinking.)

I tend to believe that drinking beer with your clique is both a social function and a personal pleasure. It eases tension accrued from work and at the same time reinforces one’s sense of belongingness. But (and this is a big but), when done on a frequent basis and in an excessive manner, the social and personal functions turn into life’s dysfunctions, like work tardiness and health problems.

This is a hard lesson I got from decades of making romance with beer. I guess that my being a father since 1998 has also contributed to my dwindling passion for it. I’ve had to scrimp on my hard-earned money to ensure steady provision for my family. That means that I only drank (or threw drink parties) when there were reasons to celebrate like my kids’ first birthdays and baptismals. And the last of the factors is my health. Predisposed as I am to heart and liver diseases, I have to fight off the temptation to engage in a (heavy) drink now that I’ve already reached 40. (They say life begins at 40.)

Last week, I was able to track KSA-based Larry W., my best pal during my third and fourth years in college, through Friendster. He had been my great influence when it comes to drinking lots of beer like it would run out of supply tomorrow and forever. He asked me over email to see him in December this year and engage in a binge like we did in college. I kiddingly said yes.

OK now. I just ignored Arnold T’s beer invite just because he did it in the spirit of Octoberfest. It’s already November now. But perhaps, when I get another round of virtual booze requests from him and other Facebookers, I’d just oblige. Because, however vicarious, virtual drinks taste like food for the souls of the physically-challenged beer lovers.

If you’re on Facebook, the image you’re seeing must be familiar to you. I mean, if you’re hooked to Facebook like you’re using it to have fun with your friends, then, the image must look common to you.

That image is a snapshot of the requests I’ve gotten so far from several of my Facebook friends, most of which I dunno how to respond to, honestly. I’ve signed up with Facebook because I believe in its power to maintain contact with my friends through updates in our personal and professional lives. But to join lotto, answer TV show trivia, or accept a growing gift is beyond me at this point.

Is it my age (I’m 40 now), just my priorities, or the tedious process of accepting invites and then inviting others to an application or cause? I’m not closing doors, though. I’m taking it as a challenge. I guess Facebook will grow on me gradually. Perhaps, I should accept the “define-me” request so that I could know from my friends their views of me. Wet blanket? Old dog? Wallflower?

But I thought that FB is a simple networking site. It’s getting complicated with lots of notifications and requests from the growing number of my friends. I’m sure some of them (who also receive “unsolicited” requests from me, actually) feel the same way.

Nevertheless, I still consider FB as a great apps and content aggregating tool, a venue showcasing programmers’ talents, and a medium that facilitates exchange of pleasantries among friends, whether in groups or networks.

In the meantime, I think I’ll accept the “gift poke” invitation. It sounds interesting. And that “superpoke” thing sounds deadly, doesn’t it?

My daughter Dea Hannah is already 5 years old now. And I’m grateful to loved ones and colleagues who extended their help, without which it would be impossible for me to minister to my wife and daughter when they were in hospital. Brace yourself for the rather long list:

• Ninong Maning Q, who gave me his committed financial support at the time I needed it already. He himself went to the hospital despite his own problem with his son, who was also in a hospital for viral infection.
• AJ, who, from out of her resolve to still have me at a major work activity that coincided with Lea’s delivery, had Lorna B switch roles with me for one day: She to assist Lea at the hospital, me to participate in the activity (as a resource person). Indeed, I only realized about this possibility with AJ’s resourceful mind. “Let’s help each other Dong,” were her words that ran true during the last weekend.
• Lorna, my kumare who accommodated me when I needed her help to facilitate my financial benefits like an emergency loan. Of course, I’m more grateful to her because she pitched in to assist Lea while I was in our activity.
• Clea, my kumare who prioritized preparation of my check for an emergency loan.
• Junjun, who brought me my salary advance early in the morning of Saturday. I used the money to buy milk, diapers and feeding bottle for Dea Hannah.
• Goddie, who helped me prepare PhilHealth-related documents (certification and previous contributions) required by the hospital for deductions from my bill.
• Bubong, who brought me the documents prepared by Goddie and assisted me in preparing my wife and daughter in going home.
• Brothers-in-law Vardy and Niel, who brought our kids to and from the hospital.
• Nanay Nora (our house help) and mother-in-law Ma Maneng, who took care of our kids at home.

I’m also grateful of distant loved ones and friends who sent their best wishes for our new angel. They were not with us physically, but their prayers and good thoughts helped a lot.

I felt that everything that happened last week was God’s handiwork. He let me survive the challenges that came my way. It’s as if He sent unwinged angels to see me through. I felt like a favored soul here on earth, thinking that there are other people who are much more needy than me. I’d like to pay it forward by being an angel to friends who’ll need the same help I needed and had.

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LimeWire has just been “Ubuntuified.” When I checked the site today, I found out that it already had a Ubuntu/Debian version. Before, the only available distribution-specific package was for Fedora/Red Hat. Anyway, there’s always a universal package that runs for any Linux distribution.

The latest version of Limewire, 4.14, runs faster and brings a few minor changes on the interface. Although it is intended as a fast, easy-to-use file sharing program for five types of files (audio, video, documents, images, and programs), Limewire has mainly been my tool in searching and downloading musical pieces of old. Of course, I didn’t have the wherewithal in the 80s to keep at least several of the audio tapes that I bought. The digital technology only came in the 90s but I was only able to catch up in the decade hence.

Thanks to Limewire, searching for mp3s is easy. Actually, I must thank all the more those who have shared these mp3s for everyone’s access. The present value of Limewire for me (I know there are a lot more features I need to discover) is that I’m able to find most of the songs made popular in the early 80s, from the sentimental to the rock ones. Who would imagine that I’m able to find mp3s of “Hey Mickey” by Toni Basil, “Xanadu” by Olivia Newton-John, “Both in Love” by Tito Mina, “PS I Love You” by Sharon Cuneta, and Rey Valera’s medley of hit songs? Why search for these, you might ask. It’s because my high school batch (Manuel A. Roxas High School circa ‘84) is going to have its 25th year grand reunion in May 2009 and we have to collect some of the popular songs with which we identified whether romantically, collectively or spiritually. And it turned out that not only was I able to collect those; I was also able bring me down the memory lane every time I play each of the songs.

I can’t believe that Manuel A. Roxas High School Quezon City is at the bottom ten in terms of National College Entrance Examinations (NCEE) results in Quezon City. Neither can I believe that a second year student still struggles to read. And I was surprised to know that there are 60 students per classroom. Tsk, tsk. Where to, my alma mater?

The Alumni Association’s meeting (28 Jul at the Audio-Visual Room of the school) with the new principal, Dr. Austria, revealed those facts. The spirit of openness and trust hovered around the meeting place and that augurs well for the effective reforms in the school that the principal wants to institute. In fact, an alumni officer was bold enough to “tell on” a few mismanaged resources contributed to the school.

As if I never knew that the situation of the MRHS is a microcosm of the realities at the national level. Time and again, the Department of Education complains that there are not enough rooms, teachers, and facilities to accommodate the ever-growing population of students. And I should have not been dumbfounded about the ‘revelation’ by the principal. (Introducing new leaders in old institutions is a great way for everybody to discover the blind spots and feel the urgency to fill up the gaps. Initiating changes indeed must come from an outsider with a good track record. However, doing and sustaining the changes no longer reside in the new leader as everybody must claim stake in each change being instituted.)

I have this feeling that the alumni, particularly those who excelled during their school years, have that blind spot as well, never knowing about the seemingly worse situation of their alma mater. I’m not saying that I excelled then (I did not) but I admit that I have been assuming that the school’s balance sheet of the condition highlights the positive side.

After the meeting with the principal, I realized that the balance sheet reveals the negative side weighing a bit heavier. True, the positive side accrues more from the physical infrastructure accessed from politicians, philanthropic organizations, alumni batches, and the like. That is why there are more buildings erected like the Multipurpose Hall that replaced the grotto and the red-and-yellow building (I forgot what it is called) on the area once called “mini-forest”.

The presence of loyal teachers is another thing that maintains the community spirit.

Dr. Austria wants a turnaround in the school’s situation. He wants to bring back the NCEE ranking status to the top 20 in Quezon City. He wants to upgrade the capabilities of the teachers. He wants to tap into universities that can help boost the school’s status in the subjects of english, science, and math. He wants to develop the school as the “sports high school” in Quezon City (logically because the school is contiguous to the Amoranto Stadium and Multipurpose Hall). To top it all, and it is the very purpose of the meeting, Dr. Austria wants the help of the alumni association to make his vision bear fruits.

Making a commitment to give their full support to the principal, the association’s officers sounded optimistic and euphoric. “Glory days are here again,” said one officer in his text to me a day before the meeting.

Tess Carcellar (Batch ‘79), now working with Gabriela, has aptly connected the situation of the school to the situation at the national level. (Almost every time she spoke, people would laugh lightly and raise their fists. But I’m sure they recognized her point.) I think that her opinion is enough to put across the message that the efforts to reform the school are contributory to the advocacy for an education system that provides affordable and quality education for all.

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Great news for the graduates of my high school (Manuel A. Roxas High School Quezon City): There’s already a SEC-registered alumni association that is sought to be an automatic one for every pupil graduating from the school.

I learned this right from the officers during yesterday’s meeting (Saturday, 21 Jul) at La Barrio, Panay Ave., Quezon City. (Set up in bamboo motif, the place is made beautiful by pretty waitresses clad in skimpy shorts and green sandos. In fact, during the meeting, my peripheral vision couldn’t escape the lasses that passed by our meeting area.)

Named as Manuel Roxas High School, Quezon City, Alumni Association, Inc. (MRHSQCAA), the association has been established to serve as the mother association of the school’s graduates, in addition to their batch-based affiliations. As such, the association aims to coordinate undertakings that the alumni in their batches may want to put up for the benefit of the alma mater. Moreover, the Chair said that the association may also serve as the organizer for either school-wide or batch-specific alumni events.

Sounds great. I only think that there may be other value-adding services that the organization may provide for the batches. The first two things in my mind are free hosting service for batch-specific web sites as well as maintenance of batch membership databases.

The meeting resolved to pursue the grand alumni homecoming event in December this year in celebration of the school’s 50th year. Also given serious thought was the creation of committees for projects, fund-raising and finance.

In attendance were Danny and Tina of Batch 80; Gerry and Bonette, Batch 81; Joy, Erl, and Uly, Batch 79; Danny, Batch 77; and myself, Batch 84. I was at the meeting in my capacity as coordinator of my batch. The officers present were from the Batches 77 and 79.

Yes, you read it right. Toronto-based Bonette Cruzada-Valdez, maintainer of Milestones (roxashi.tripod.com), was at the meeting. She’ll be here in the Philippines until August before she flies back to Canada. Based on her experience in North America, she advised the officers to put systems into the fund-raising efforts so that the target benefactors/contributors will take them seriously. She also was open to the improvement of the website. I was privileged to say my piece about the matter, explaining that security and collaboration are two important features of the website. I’m not sure whether I was elected into the website committee (my privilege, indeed), but I’m a bit worried that the committee may find my ideas either difficult to flesh out or beyond their province at all.

The officers were jubilant at the fact that the school already has a new principal, Mr. Austria, replacing Mrs. Milan. I guess it’s because they know him more and that he is open to new ideas for the betterment of the school.

So, there. The setting up of the association augurs well for the concrete and lasting changes in the school. The principal and faculty cannot go it alone; they must listen to the people who grew in the school and who now have children who they want to be well educated.

A week before the meeting, fellow batchmates Miki and Albert and I met at the school and noticed a few unpleasant changes in the school, particularly the infrastructures. The small stairways at the halls’ peripheries are now blocked with a steel barrier. The wooden windows at the second floor of the buildings are now “doubly-covered” with steel grids. Those are perilous to the students in emergency situations. I even suspected that these are the school’s measures to keep the unruly students at bay, which make them look like prisoners.

The most ironical of all is that the walls outside the classrooms are adorned with greeny paintings, yet the doors were almost dilapidated. The administration may have glossed over the forest for the trees.

These are some of concerns that the association will hopefully address in the coming years.

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Last Saturday, I organized a meetup of high school batch mates (Manuel A. Roxas High School, Quezon City, Circa 1980-’84) for the reason that our Hongkong-based mate has visited the Philippines for personal concerns. He and I maximized that circumstance and were successful enough to gather several mates: Jing Mercader, Geena Garcia, Norma Hilario-Suniega, Boy Cruz, Albert Gemora, and Sally Franco-Daylo.

Lamberto Gulapa, a.k.a. Miki, did a sacrifice in his life: Spend his birthday away from family. It was a trade-off for making us happy. Yes, the meetup last July 14 was also in celebration of his birthday. He took charge of our lunch at Lydia’s Lechon across Roces Ave. cor Sct. Reyes St. Several hours later, we moved to Wheatberry several blocks off to give way to smokers who could not puff cigarettes inside Lydia’s. It was a great decision because we had a whiff of windy air that afternoon.

From MRHS B84 Meet…

Miki did not only provide for our food; he also filled our hearts with joy because of the laughter from his same wit of humor as during our high school days. It felt like he was reenacting his ’80s self. People were quite amazed at his almost complete recollection of the salad days. He was capable of mimicking how particular mates had danced and said things and how some teachers had taught their pupils. He could even name all boyfriends that one of the meetup participants had had. We would just laugh to our hearts’ contents in affirmation of his acts, which were very tough to follow.

I would just wonder how Miki was able to retain memory of those days over twenty years ago. Is that a skill or a function of a relatively non-stressful or easy life after high school? Most admitted that they had selective memories of it. I, for one, could not attest to some high school moments that my mates remember of me. I guess others are in that quandary as well.

Meetups like that on Saturday must continue, if only for the purpose of helping one another discover good things from the past. I believe that one may have had blind spots in his younger life that may be useful to discover and be utilized for his betterment as a learning person. I haven’t discovered any for myself but I’m sure I soon will.

I remember my high school batch mate Marivic Carcellar ably singing the song “The Rainbow Connection” in a duet with Minerva Ave (not our schoolmate). Perhaps their good combination and the greatness of the song have reserved a space at the core of my memory bank.

I readily downloaded all versions of the song possible including those of Lea Salonga (who was then a lovely kid), Kenny Loggins and the Carpenters.

That song was indeed pleasant to the ear. But I have not really paid attention to the meaning of the song until lately. I think that rainbows, beyond their scientific basis, are a reminder that there is God caring for us, as what the bible says. Rainbows are visions and they are our connection to the superforce above us–God.

But rainbows seem to be like comets and falling stars that we seldom see. Hence, that poses a challenge for us to be rainbows to our loved ones, neighbors and colleagues, for them to be reminded about God. To be a rainbow to other people means helping them create their dreams and helping them achieve these. To be a rainbow to other people, one needs to live a life as colorful as it can be.