Caustic Thoughts

Random funny thoughts with a taste of Pinoy and a hint of acid.

Drinking Drama

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The members of my biological family never had a night life so I never knew that there are creatures on earth that can stay up 20 hours a day spending more than half of that time transfusing alcohol into their veins. I have only fairly recently learned of their existence and I have discovered that in their eyes, I am the mythical creature. Where the heck have I come from? Have I never heard of beer and clubbing before? Ummm… no.

I never drink with these new friends of mine because I can’t. I’m allergic to beer so I am often reduced to being called a guest relations officer (GRO) and to listening to their growing insanity. Of course, I don’t appreciate their chauvinistic manners but I stick around because it’s amusing to hear men sob about their life stories, the same ones I can easily record with a mobile phone and use to blackmail them.

You won’t believe that men, who look like Jim Carey but feel like Sylvester Stallone, actually have so much drama in their lives that they’d probably make some cash if they sold their life stories to a TV drama scout.

My favorite generic tale is about the nagging wife waiting at home with an ax or the verbal equivalent of it, ready to slash her husband’s pride (or his manhood) into half. The stories of daily married life are all almost the same. The wife has no job, stays at home all day and still expects to get all of her husband’s wages. The poor unfortunate husband has no other recourse than to refrain from coming home, preferring instead to drown his sorrows in a pool of fermented grain.

I don’t know if the stories are true but if they are, I wonder why they ever married their wives. They can’t use the excuse that the women changed as soon as they became wives. I personally know that SOME of these women have always been clingy naggers whose favorite pastimes were to read their boyfriends’ phone inboxes and react to every female name in them. I would expect that the guys knew that. So why did they still get married? Maybe there’s another version to the popular generic tale I haven’t heard of before– the one where the husbands are the villains.

*Photo credit goes to Vener, one of my UNMARRIED online buddies who also loves fermented grain.

Cash Gift

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Last week’s news more or less fit my previous post to a tee. Our congressmen returned to their districts late last week after a meeting at the presidential palace. Cagayan de Oro City District 1 representative Rolando Uy brought home more than just a lung full of Manila smog. According to Congressman Uy, they were each handed cash gifts.

Gasp! Are they at the semantics game again? Call it what you will. A wolf in sheep’s clothing is still a wolf so a “cash gift” handed out in that manner is still a ______________ (fill in the blank).

I suppose hard earned taxpayers’ money is once again lining the silk pockets of politicians and is nowhere near being used to finish moldy, decade old projects. In a twisted kind of way, this makes tax evasion a little attractive, doesn’t it?

Of Printing Presses and Rebates

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“Where?” he asked.

“There,” I said, pointing at a seemingly microscopic detail in front of him for the umpteenth time.

He squinted at the monitor in front of him and then looked up at me with eyes that looked like they had sunk two inches into their sockets.

I checked the time. It was 9:00 p.m. and we were barely halfway through. I looked at his half imploring eyes with my bloodshot ones. “I don’t care if you can’t go home to your pregnant wife tonight. You have to finish this before 10 even if it kills you!”

***

When I left my last job as a school publication moderator, I thought that I had finally seen the end of my printing press days. I seem to belong to such a rare breed though that my old employer has had no choice but to ask me to resume my old hobby of shamelessly terrorizing students, meticulously going through mounds of teenage angst-ridden compositions and obsessively looking for minutely misaligned text. The above transcript is an example of me breathing down the neck of a hapless printing press artist.

To be honest, there is nothing like the stress of trying to beat a deadline. I must admit though that I have always enjoyed and secretly welcomed the adrenaline rush of publication work. Incidentally, the pay isn’t really too bad.

I remember my first attempt at moderating a school publication. On top of my basic salary, I also received extra payment from the school for every issue released. Surprisingly, the first printing press I worked with also offered me a 10% rebate which, in my inexperience I promptly refused. The printing press tried to assure me that it was not a bribe but I was too scared to even touch the money. I later learned that transactions with other printing presses also often include hefty rebates for moderators.

***

By the way, I still don’t accept personal rebates. I let my students use whatever rebates we get as a working fund. Not everyone agrees with me and some even call me a fool for refusing easy money like that. They say cash rewards are a fact of life in most business transactions. In fact, my husband who works for a company says his colleagues also get rewarded in different ways by contractors and suppliers.

My experience made me think of transactions in a larger scale. If small fish like me get “bribed” so easily, that means big time fish do too. That means a certain former mayor who has denied ever receiving anything in exchange for a grossly overpriced public market project and the COMELEC official who has also denied receiving anything for another overpriced but shelved deal may really have been offered some rewards. I don’t know. This is just me thinking. I’m a virtual nobody but I have experienced being technically “bribed”. How much more those bigwigs? Positions of responsibility really do require exceptional self-control.

The Pursuit of Cash

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I am fast becoming a delinquent blogger but I have not lost interest in blogging. In fact, I would love to be a full time blogger if only it could earn me more cash. The thing is, I would probably earn more if I played a harmonica on the sidewalk with a rusty can in front of me than by blogging. I’m not about to play instruments and do somersaults in the streets yet, but I’m beginning to think that’s not such a bad idea compared to what I’m doing now.

The reason why I can’t blog so often anymore is because I currently have two jobs with a third job fast approaching. No, I have no plans of self-annihilation or death by fatigue. Neither do I have delusions of gold deposits and a Swiss bank account. For some in the Philippines, working two eight hour shifts is not motivated by ambition but by survival. Yes, I am driving myself insane with work so I can send my daughter to school and myself to a mental institution.

This kind of reminds me of the government computation made this year that said that a family of five in the National Capital Region could live on a monthly income of P8,254 ($184.44). I suppose my husband and I could abandon our pursuit of cash and live on the estimated income as long as we refrain from buying clothes, eating anything else other than noodles and sending our child to a good school. Incidentally, I am still infinitely better off than a lot of Filipinos. The World Bank said earlier this year that 15 million Filipinos attempt to survive on $1 a day. Wow! That’s something else even I can’t imagine.

The Birthday at Gusa a.k.a. the Wedding at Canaan

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In the three years that I have been living in Cagayan de Oro City, I have formulated one main conclusion— people here love to party and eat. Maybe most Filipinos do but I just never knew because I had such an introverted family that we might as well have been living in a mouse’s hole while the rest of our countrymen socialized, drank, binged and died of consumption.

I must honestly say though that the frequent parties that my husband’s family has been in the habit of taking me to have been gastronomically satisfying. I’ve more or less learned to relate with other humans simply because I get rewarded with the chance to bathe the walls of my arteries with all that bad roasted pork fat. I’m telling you, this is the most satisfying way to commit long term suicide.

Two Sundays ago, I had my organs swim happily in pork oil again till I had difficulty breathing. My husband’s aunt celebrated her birthday and the two roasted pork carcasses were beckoning to me with the shadows of their former selves and the glow of their new forms. I was having the time of my life until I noticed my husband and his aunt picking a little uneasily at one of the considerably deflated carcasses.

I asked my husband what his problem was. He looked at me with a slight hint of amusement and said, “We ran out of rice, the food is quickly disappearing and more people are pouring through those double doors like bulls on a stampede.”

Oops. That sounded too much like Jesus and Mary in the wedding at Canaan but I wasn’t about to ask my husband to stare at the food and miraculously multiply them. Well, he’s not Jesus, he isn’t even Harry Potter. Thankfully, the real magicians in the kitchen just kept whipping up rice like a factory and the food did hold out although there wasn’t even a hint of pork bones left after the storm abated.

The incident is another reminder of a unique aspect of the Filipino culture. My husband’s aunt did estimate the number of her guests correctly. She probably forgot though that in the Philippines, when you invite a person to an event, you are also indirectly inviting that person’s spouse, children, friends and friends of friends. In other words, expect a whole platoon to show up for every individual you invite.

I suppose this unwritten Filipino party code of conduct has its roots in the concept of the fiesta. Anyone is welcome to partake of a house’s feast. This does make you feel all the more the unique Filipino brand of hospitality. Then again, for modern middle wage earners who have limited budgets and resources, it can get pretty inconvenient. Well, what can we do, it’s a cultural thing you know.

Where Humans Tread, Destruction Follows

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I had so gotten used to the idea of moving around everyday with the help of gasoline that I had forgotten that there will come a time when the world will eventually run out of sources to get our present kind of gasoline from. Yes, fossil fuel from which we get our gasoline will not last forever and the Arab nations will soon have dry oil wells. This is probably why the search for alternative fuel resources like biofuel has been stepped up one notch.

Rumor has it that Zubiri, one of the senators of the Philippines, is a staunch supporter of developing biofuel. This is why during the conflict in the recently concluded senatorial elections, my husband hoped Zubiri would win over Pimentel. I have since shared to my husband though that this seemingly environmentally friendly alternative energy source has a dark side.

While I was doing a writing project I discovered that biofuel may yet again be another manifestation of our race’s destructive capabilities. Today, Indonesia and Malaysia combined supply more than 80% of the worldwide demand for biofuel. Because of the great demand for it, a large part of both countries’ forest areas have been cleared to make way for palm plantations that are one of the sources of biofuel. The result is another drastic damage to the delicate balance of nature.

The destruction of forests has displaced the orange haired lovable apes we know as orangutans. Many of these harmless creatures have been brutally killed, injured or left to face the future prospect of starvation. Today, international groups like the Orangutan Conservancy to which the pictures on this post are credited, struggle to save, protect and promote the existence and propagation of orangutans. Unfortunately, there are now only a mere 60,000 of them left in Borneo and Sumatra.

It seems we humans have a way of destroying things wherever we poke our fingers into. My husband says Zubiri will be supporting other efforts for creating sustainable sources of biofuel aside from using palm oil. Let’s hope that this time we don’t end up destroying anything else.

Top Five Reasons Why You Shouldn’t be a Journalist in the Philippines

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Last week, Jarius Bondoc, the journalist responsible for partly exposing the anomalous National Broadband Network deal started receiving death threats. Sigh. His experience is another example yet again of why you shouldn’t be caught holding a pen or a tape recorder in the Philippines. Here are my other top reasons for avoiding the field of journalism.

1.) The Facts

In a country where politicians each have storage bins of alternative faces, excuses and reality based fairytales, the facts are never what they seem. Write a story today and expect to have to write a contradictory account the next day. Search for the NBN deal online for example and you are sure to get thousands of updated and revised stories enough to fill the days of a prisoner on a life sentence or enough to kill the brain cells of top political analysts.

2.) The Distinction

There is nothing like reading your name on your first by-line and knowing that thousands of people around the country are either using your words to incite sedition or wrap dried fish with. Of course, in the Philippines, this is not the only form of distinction that journalists can hope to enjoy. Hit hard long enough and you might just find your face pasted on a black cardboard with red letters that say M-I-S-S-I-N-G or D-E-A-D.

3.) The Excitement

Sure. Journalists get to rub elbows with the most distinguished international personalities. They also get to be on the front row of the most important world events. Filipino journalists however also have the added excitement of anticipating whether yesterday’s short message sender will really be waiting at the entrance to the office with a .45.

4.) The Pay

Well I suppose journalists who work for national outfits really do get reasonable salaries. The majority of provincial journalists however, who get killed more often probably even don’t have enough cash to buy coffee and cookies for their wake.

5.) The Reaction

Yes, the Filipino public is outraged but so many journalists get killed every year that the expressions of shock after hearing of another death has become similar to a prerecorded tape that gets shown after every fresh killing.

Well, it’s not a pleasant scenario which makes people like Mr. Bondoc all the more admirable. Let’s hope he can dodge another bullet.

Mt. Mayon and Philippine Teledrama

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I used to never watch Filipino soaps, telenovelas and teleseryes which was why I often got into tiffs with some of my co-workers before. They probably misinterpreted my lack of interest in Filipino crying ladies as a sign of a lack of patriotism. Make no mistake I will bash heads with anyone who questions my love for my country. I simply did not like Philippine melodrama because I did not wish to deplete my nasal and eye fluids over the travails of fictional characters. This is especially since my own life and the sad state of our country are enough to be depressed over. I also did not watch soaps because they challenged my mental faculties too much by forcing me to justify either horrendously convoluted or overly simplistic unbelievable plots.

Since I got married though, I have had little choice but to get glimpses of some of these shows. I live in a place where English television has been relegated to oblivion and where I must suffer the perpetual absence of CSI and Smallville. I must admit though that there are some fairly good telenovelas just as there are really bad ones on the primetime fare.

A couple of days ago, I was reminded of one of the presently popular drama shows on TV. An online friend, Myles Narvaez, sent me a picture of Mount Mayon, an active volcano in the province of Albay that is renowned for its nearly perfect cone. The picture should have dug up fond memories of family trips to the place. Unfortunately though, more recent memories of a promotional soap trailer came to mind.

If I remember the trailer correctly, the story begins with the protagonist’s family on a happy trip to Albay when all of a sudden the volcano erupts, the ground cracks open and cruelly swallows one parent whole. Okay, so the volcano was practically smoldering and tourists were standing at its feet taking souvenir pictures. I did not even need to watch the pilot episode to know that the writers of the show probably did not even try to explain that inexplicably improbable part. They were probably thinking that if Pierce Brosnan could get away with Dante’s Peak’s plot then so could they.

Sigh, just when I was getting the hang of Philippine melodrama.

Sorry We’re Close

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I always see signs on shops around town that say, “Sorry We’re Close.” Sigh. What is that? Sorry we’re close to what— close to me, close to you, close to death? If I had a permanent marker with me every time I went to town and there were no police in sight, I wouldn’t hesitate to put a “d” at the end of each of these grammatically offensive signs. Yes, my dear shop owners, the sign should read, “Sorry We’re Closed,” and “Keep the Door Closed.”

The above phrases are not the only examples of a different kind of English that a lot of Filipinos are very fond of using. I don’t claim to be an expert and neither do I wish to criticize. I do think though that it is about time that we stop abusing some poor helpless, defenseless words.

1.) I can’t report for work today. I’m suffering from overfatigue.

Yup, we have heard a lot of people say that their momentary lapse in energy, common sense and moral judgment is the result of overfatigue. One of my favorite writers, Conrad De Quiros once wrote about this word in his newspaper column. According to De Quiros, “overfatigue” is a Filipinism (something coined by Filipinos). Well, I’m sorry to say that the word will not soon find its way into the dictionary because there is no such word. In fact, try typing it on a word document and it will definitely color red.

The worst kind of tiredness that you can ever feel is called fatigue and anything that is “over” that would probably be death. Next time you’re too lazy to report for work, tell your boss you suffered from fatigue only. More than that and he might have to prepare a funeral wreath.

2.) Come see our collection of jewelries.

One big mall in our city has a sign that says, “Jewelries For Sale.” Since the sign is made of foam, I promise to one day steal the last three letters. You cannot make “jewelry” plural by adding “ies” to it. The plural form of the word is the same as the singular.

3.) Let me offer you some advices about your furnitures and equipments.

Three words are incorrectly used in the sentence. You cannot give a lot of advice on lots of furniture and equipment by putting an “s” at the end of each word. You can use the phrase “pieces of” before each of the three words to make the words plural.

4.) Do you have a cellphone?

Okay, so even Americans use this word but the proper term for the device is “mobile phone.” My engineer husband says the term “cell” actually refers to the cell site.

5.) Let’s eat barbecue.

In the Philippines “barbecue” means meat on a stick. Correct me if I’m wrong but I think Americans use the term to mean a gathering at some open space where they cook meat on a grill.

By the way, some linguistic experts claim that there is now a growing acceptance for Filipinisms or words used in the Philippine context and that they should not automatically be regarded as incorrect. The English language is not solely owned by any one country and any country or nation using it may perhaps reasonably contribute to it.

The problem though is determining when something is an acceptable Filipinism and when it is simply wrong. Perhaps “overfatigue” and the use of “barbecue” in the Philippine context may soon become internationally acceptable but I doubt if “jewelries” and “furnitures” will ever be seen as correct.

Philippines in Uncyclopedia

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I don’t have the figures to prove my point. I have no doubt though that many of my countrymen will agree that we Filipinos are notorious for being extremely proud of our racial heritage. The mere suggestion of an insult directed to anything Filipino would be enough to raise an uproar of such cataclysmic proportions that the poor hapless critic can soon expect to equate his life with standing naked under a hail storm.

This is why I now wonder what fellow Filipinos think of the country’s description in Uncyclopedia. For those who have no idea what the site is about, just imagine Wikipedia on a perpetual drinking spree with psychotropic drugs on the side. The result is an acidic, witty and impertinent view of everything under the sun and beyond it. You might even find it humorous if you’re not in it.

As expected a number of online Filipinos who do not appreciate satire have decided to miss the point altogether and react on the Philippine article. I am not qualified to have any kind of reaction because my own acidic tastes will not permit objectivity and will equally suggest impudence. It would be interesting to know though what other Filipinos within my circle think of the site and our article.

All right, maybe it does hurt my sense of national pride a bit but only because the article holds some grains of truth. Isn’t it partly true that a boxer is becoming more celebrated than the national hero, that more people are singing Boom Tarat-Tarat than the national anthem and that we are under the rule of a half Ewok?

Read and think about it.