The Carolinian

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A back-to-back treat in Filipino: Amoy ni P-Noy | Baho ni Gloria 16

DECEMBER 2011

HOPE— FOR SALE

A Letter to Santa, From ‘RH Bill’ page 20 An 18-yr. old girl bares her Christmas wish

Where is Maria Clara? page 10 Ladies of yesterday, girls of today

And where’s my USCSSC? page 3 Attendance checks, voters’ turnouts, leadership styles and emerging trends

Also features | His name was ‘Buknoy’| Crossing Paths with Radel Paredes | The Prostitute

EDITOR’S PEN

Hopes From My Ink

By John M. Destacamento | Editor-in-Chief

O

ne time, famous American humorist Erma Bombeck said, ―There‘s nothing sadder in this world than to awake on Christmas morning and not be a child‖.

And this may bite but reality be told, nobody‘s getting young any longer. As wrinkles dominate the plains of our foreheads, we set our feet too far from the comforts of our homes in our personal quest for those winter wonder lands. Yet the aroma of mother‘s adobo graciously filling the confinements of the house with all festive delights, the December breeze killing our bones down to their teeth, the angelic voices of kids hopping from a house to another in the hope of getting a penny or two—all these seem to draw our feet back to place where we used to celebrate the ‗child‘ in us, there within the solace of our homes.

But not every child has got the chance to feel this magic. In almost all corners of Colon, there squats on the grimy sidewalk a child who in all her youthful innocence doesn‘t even know Christmas is approaching. If not for a childhood friend who sells lanterns for ten, fifteen pesos each, she would not have the slightest idea the season has come! From a distance, young boys jump into jeepneys with plastic bottles in their hands, their minds endowed with a line or two from a simple daygon and hearts sealed with braveness to ask from their ate or kuya for that silver, round metal.

This December, nearly four million street children will not have the opportunity to smell their mother‘s adobo or feel the cold puff of Christmas air. This December, they will smell the same walkway stink and feel the same blister of black smokes that vehicles belch.

This December, their bellies will ache for that same hunger, their throats dried up for the same thirst.

And so in this issue of The Carolinian, we allocate a special place to pay homage to the ultimate reason why we memorialize the season, our children. In Josephine Vania Ruiz‘s ―Smile and Say Cheese‖, we will journey into the crossroads of these street children whose tales give us intangible and enduring values of love and hope.

In the Universityscape section, we will wrap up special gifts for the Supreme Student Council in Jodie Ferrer‘s ―And Where‘s My USC-SSC‖ and for teachers as well in John Destacamento‘s ―That NonNumeric Grade Called ‗NC‘ and the Teacher‘s Craving to Fail‖.

When bands are ready and melody in tune, we will sing carols to the ladies of yesterday, girls of today in Mariah Mahinay‘s ―Where is Maria Clara‖ under the Community Sense section. In Nation Eyes portion, we will then beg for nationalistic pinaskuhan of some sort from Ninong Noynoy and Ninang GMA in Jewelmae Solas‘ ―Amoy ni P-Noy‖ and ―Baho ni Gloria‖. Moreover, Leonilo Inot, Jr. writes a particular Christmas wish all the way to the North Pole in ―A Letter to Santa, From RH Bill‖.

Finally, the season‘s appetizing ham will be delivered nice and fresh by Mike Acebedo Lopez in a Top Pick contributed article dubbed ―Congratulations, The Carolinian‖.

Perhaps, Mrs. Bombeck was right when she said it would be a lonely feeling to wake up on the 25th not being a child anymore. But hey, she may also be wrong all along! For like the innate attributes of loving and sharing, the feeling of being a child is not bounded by any numerical values of age. And if we happen to realize this fundamental truth, it will be easy for each day to come and pass by as Christmas in itself.

From our humble yet hopeful hearts in The Carolinian, here‘s a simple present for you this Christmas.

About the Cover While everybody is too busy doing a Christmas countdown, this eight-year-old lantern vending helper in the congested nooks of Carbon wishes December won’t come too soon just yet. She hopes to sell their lanterns before the season peaks.

Like her high hopes for sales, we should also have the same desires in our hearts to change for the better those that need to be altered in the settings of our classrooms, student body, school, community and nation. That way Christmas won’t just be a break but an opportunity for a hopeful start.

RmG112, Anselmo Bustos Sports Complex, USC Main Campus, P. del Rosario St., Cebu City 6000 Philippines Email: thecarolinian.usc@gmail.com

We welcome your comments, suggestions, letters and contributions. Only letters with signature will be entertained.

Original manuscript contributions must be typewritten, doublespaced on a legal bond paper, and should bear the author’s name, address, year level and college. The identity of the writer maybe withheld upon request. Submitted contributions will become property of the publication. Send your contributions to this email address: thecarolinian.usc@gmail.com.

No part of this magazine should be used for whatever purpose, unless allowed under the law, without a written permission duly-approved by the publication. All rights reserved 2011.

CONTENTS

DECEMBER 2011 EDITOR’S PEN Hopes From My Ink UNIVERSITYSCAPE On School Uniform Policy And Where’s my USC-SSC?

COMMUNITY SENSE Where is Maria Clara?

Has the woman of today’s society outgrown her image?

Ang Baso ni Noy Kaloy A take on the Anti-Mendicancy Act

The Bukid That Was A glimpse of USC-TC: then and now

The Non-Numeric Grade Called NC and the Teacher’s Craving to Fail

New Class Schedules What is the real deal?

TOP PICK Congratulations, The Carolinian

Reciprocating Their Love

A Letter to Santa, From RH Bill

Snow in Cebu, Anyone?

An 18-yr-old girl named ‘RH Bill’ tells Santa her Christmas wish

NATION EYES Amoy ni P-Noy Coming to terms with Aquino’s dream of the so-called ‘daang matuwid’

Baho ni Gloria A tumultuous end for the longestserving woman president

The truth behind the whole student publication story-telling

12 Smile and Say Cheese

ORIGINALS His Name was “Buknoy” The Prostitute FEATURE Crossing Paths With Radel Paredes Part-time teacher, full-time student

UNIVERSITYSCAPE

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by Frances Margaret Rebollido

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variety of opinions surround the idea of a school uniform. The conformist will assert that the sense of having an entire student body looking the same is more reassuring than seeing a hodgepodge of colors.

This is quite understandable, since it is in our nature to perceive consistency of form as an indication of harmony. Uniformity implies agreement, which then translates to respect. Now if you think about it, are all the students who wear their uniforms doing this out of sincere respect for policy? Or is it because of the fact that it is the only way for them to enter the school campus?

Now, the contemporary thinker will come out with a rebuttal of his own, saying that he does not have to wear something that everyone else is wearing just to shout to the rest of the world the fact that he comes from a certain school. If the point of wearing a uniform

is for the student to be ―branded‖, does that mean we would also have to act distinctively outside the school to make certain that we are set apart from the rest?

That would be such an idealistic goal, don‘t you think?

For the life of us, we just cannot fool ourselves into believing that we are in no way similar to students from other schools.

College students are at the pinnacle of their growth as individuals. This is the stage of selfcomprehension and identification. At this point in our lives, we feel as if we are capable of doing anything and what happens to the rest of our lives will depend on which road we take after ruminating on these crossroads.

Being made to exist as part of a huge ocean of grey and green does not help one bit. It dulls our visual sensibilities as well as our perception of character.

Therefore, it is very essential for us to be able to distinguish ourselves in the midst of this massive community. The channels of self-expression are in the words that we say and the things that we do, but contrary to common belief, it does not end there. We must also be given the ability to appear in the manner that we desire.

This is one of our ways of communicating our characters and our intentions to the rest of the world.

It is only in the state of catharsis that a person can be fully confident with himself, and therefore perform to the best of his ability.

And if the school really cares about seeing that in the students, then they must consider giving more importance to expression over impression.It would be a shame to think that the administration would rather have the school‘s name rather than our personalities plastered on our bodies. Does that mean they do not have confidence in what we have to offer as individuals? Let us hope not.

With that said, it is then plausible to think that the moment the school no longer sees the need to stipulate uniforms, is the day that they are finally confident that our individuality is good enough to be proud of.

Report on the Symposium and Referendum on the Male Uniform Policy In congruence to the mandate of the Supreme Student Council to be a bastion of student’s rights and welfare, the symposium on the male uniform policy was successfully held last September 16, 2011.

Science; Sir Neil Kintanar of the Department of Psychology; Ma’am Zona Hildegarde Amper from the Department of Sociology/Anthropology and History; Sir Alan Tabanao from the Department of Economics.

As planned, the symposium was held twice, once in the Main campus for the male students of the Department of Political Science, School of Business and Economics, and the College of Education; and once in the Talamban Campus for the male students of the College of Engineering, College of Arts and Sciences, and the College of Architecture and Fine Arts.

In the afternoon, a faculty member from Religious Education and another faculty from Philosophy were added to the roster of speakers.

They spoke about the existence of the male uniform in the lens of their own fields. The political scientist talked about the uniform and the constitution; the economist on the costs and benefits; the sociologist on the social context of the uniform; the psychologist on the effects of uniform on the perception of others.

The speakers of the symposium in the Main Campus were: Sir Patrick Torres of the Department of Political

The Referendum on the Male Uniform Policy was held the week after the symposiums were held, September 23, 2011, which was spearheaded by the Commission on Elections of the Supreme Student Council.

According to the Report of Miss Dixie Jane Patay, COMELEC Chairperson for the current administration, the referendum had a total voter turnout of 2,081 votes. Here is a table of the breakdown of voters: College/Department Total Number of Voters College of Architecture and Fine Arts— 474; College of Arts and Sciences— 443; College of Education—72; College of Engineering—643; Department of

Political Science—54; School of Business and Economics—395 The official result of the Referendum on the Male Uniform Policy, which posed the question, “Are you in favor of the continuous implementation of the male uniform policy?” is as follows: YES = 518 NO = 1511 VOID = 52 Total: 2081 The referendum was conducted in partnership with department cocurricular organizations, and voting precincts were either inside department offices or in the lobbies of college buildings.

Source: USC-SSC

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t uden nt S eme ), mea mr p u “S (SCC supre l i g c Coun ng amon aa sa a n ing acy tudent .” s body “An

And where’s my USCSSC?

by Jodie T. Ferrer

jecti g amo ju d v gyu’n e kay ka main o bn g the r to pro a tect ights an d w g sa’n nifare elo m a o orga Ang stu d f “ n a s e nt s . power a manates

on e he stui t a z t from dents.”

“We have o first, kay da ur students p first" policy a t "students.”

“We, the students of the University of San Carlos, invoking the blessings of the Divine Providence and desirous of establishing a Student Council that will unite the whole student body of the University of San Carlos, promote the student‟s “if rights and welfare, foster a hargy ud nak monious relationship between a we ll ang hiab the students and other sectors of ka s y i info tud o lan the University and the society, en su r ' g m m r t instill in ourselves the spirit of ma e ng pre ed s s, if t Nationalism and the value on n g a m ty a t n ’yu mu ana a uintellectual, moral and social red s joi n ch sponsibility, do hereby ordain and ila n .” promulgate this Constitution.”

er t t a m a y ll a e r “It's iduiv d in f o t c e p s of re nt.” ality as a stude

The preamble of the 2001 USC Supreme Student Council (SSC) Constitution brings forth a ray of hope to the students that they are assured of a council that will lead them closer to the University and promote their rights and their welfare.

So for some time, we walked along the corridors of our school, feeling secured that there was one hefty USC-SSC that would come alongside us in the political struggles of our educational journey.

Until a day came when we started asking ourselves: ―Where, by the way, is my USC-SSC?‖

DECEMBER 2011

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UNIVERSITYSCAPE I seem to feel a lack of presence from the Supreme Student Council. I know they‘re there but their presence isn‘t enough to make any impact in my university life. Maybe because I don‘t go to all the activities that they set or I just don‘t know what‘s going on behind-the-scene. Then again, how could I go to an SSC activity when I don‘t even know about it?

I don‘t even know all the officers of our supreme student council. I can‘t really know all of them unless I was actually in the council. The thing is I don‘t know what to expect from these people. As a student of this university I have been expecting something EPIC from them and I still am. Expecting might be too much but I think it‘s fair to expect something from the governing body as long as the governed citizens do their end of the deal. I do believe that I have every right to expect this from the council all because we, the students, elected them to run the student body, didn‘t we?

I‘m not saying that the elections were manipulated. The matter I‘m trying to emphasize is the number of students who actually voted these people to be their student council.

My sources informed me that the number of voters during the SSC elections was even less than half of the whole college student population.

I know people who didn‘t even know there was such an election. I guess that means that the majority don‘t really care who run the student body.

How could we really care if we don‘t feel a strong presence from such an institution?

Wait, shouldn‘t stuff like student elections be a requirement? I don‘t remember being required to vote for student elections. It‘s a shame not knowing my responsibilities as a student citizen. I can think of so many reasons why the rest of the

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student body didn‘t vote. One, they were not well informed, not only with the date and the venue of elections but maybe even the kind of people they were voting for. The campaigning for student elections should be nosiest event if they want people to care, noisy enough to piss people off so they would actually care. Second, the attitude of too much tolerance and laziness of the students make them apathetic. Imagine if the student elections was actually required.

Why is it that the teacher evaluation is required and the voting for in student election is not? If the case for evaluation and election were the same, a lot more would know about the SSC. I believe that everyone in the student council is more than capable and qualified to run the student council. These people were made to do these kinds of things. They are highly qualified and are the cream of the crop, thus they are given the privilege and responsibility to be part of the student council. I guess, it‘s safe to say that they are the best of the best and are shaped to be the leaders of this generation. At least that is what I‘ve always thought of.

I received information from my source that meetings are held every first Sunday of the month. Such meetings are called by the president of the council herself. But what caught my attention was when I found out that the attendance of meetings by the members of the council is voluntary. I think it meant that their attendance is checked but the attending part is voluntary.

(Hopefully, it meant that attending is voluntarily expected.)

If you‘re a member of the council, no one and nothing in the council is compelling you to attend the meetings. It‘s not a dictatorship so the council is not exactly strict with these

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things.

The SSC is a kind of government that respects its member‘s individuality. The kind that understands that the majority rule but the minority‘s rights is to be protected. Democracy is nice and all but there seems to be a feeling of tolerance on how the activities are run within the council. When certain people are elected to govern a large number, there should be no room for tolerance among them. It is expected that the elected officer holds his responsibility with the kind of commitment that will surpass all kinds of challenges at all costs. This not only extends to one officer, but everyone in the council. This is the kind of council I‘d want to run my university and thus to affect my university life.

Yes, it‘s understandable that even the officers are students. Of course they have their student lives to run.

But there is a good reason why they are given those certain positions and responsibilities, it is because they are highly qualified and they have the ability to lead and they are aware of it. That, by the way is a very rare skill.

The reason why I feel like the SSC should make their presence strongly felt is because I know they are our leaders and I am more than willing to look up to leaders that will push to make a difference. It is also because I am aware that we don‘t only bring the name of our school, but we are bringing the name of our generation.

If our leaders are too tolerant and unfocused, what does that make of us? If we as members of the student body are too tolerant and unfocused, what does that make of our leaders?

For the SSC and the system to work, we need effort on both ends and of course support by the whole system. So, my dear SSC, where na u? Here na me :D

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NEW SITES IN DOWNTOWN (MAIN) CAMPUS The Law Building Covered Walk New Canteen Wrocklege Yard Kolk’s Nook Souvenir Shop—Catholic Trade Center San Carlos Drugstore

by Jodie Feliz I. Racho

A

bout four years ago, I remember walking down the hallway of the Engineering building thinking to myself, ―So this is where I‘ll be spending five years of my college life.‖ Never had it crossed my mind that throughout those years, the University of San Carlos that I first viewed as an old university could somehow transform into something we now see with awe and splendor.

end up stranded in the campus and endlessly hoping for the rain to stop. Now, have you noticed that this hasn‘t happened anymore?

The Portal, the most noticeable change in Talamban Campus, is USC‘s solution to the problem about flooding. With its design, Carolinians are now able to ride public utility vehicles (PUVs) without getting their feet wet since PUVs are allowed to pass through the hump.

How did USC, particularly the Downtown (formerly called Main) Campus and the Talamban Campus look like before? Have you even noticed the changes?

Another advantage is the installation of benches at the sides which serve as waiting areas. Also, because The Portal is the only entrance for students, we are now better-informed of the latest events in the campus with the announcements posted near the new covered walk.

―Baha‖ (or flood) is the expected answer from majority of the students whenever asked what they can associate most with USC Talamban Campus. Carolinians had even worn t-shirts with prints expressing this unfortunate predicament.

Just a few meters from The Portal is the newly opened iStore, formerly the Office of Student Affairs (OSA), where students can view the latest gadgets and accessories from Apple.

No one can blame them. For years, Carolinians suffered the quite rapid formation of the ―USC-TC River‖ with every strong rain. An ordinary lunch break at carenderias across the campus could indeed turn out to be like a river trekking adventure with students crossing the road barefoot and some guys even offering to carry ladies across with a certain amount of money in exchange. Talk about instant business!

Across it is the oldest building of the campus, known by many as the Engineering Building. Now referred as the Bunzel Building, it was formerly visited by students almost only at the start and end of every semester with the purchasing, borrowing, and returning of books.

Now, it accommodates different offices such as the OSA, the Registrar‘s Office, etc.

Or, if you have no more class to attend to but are not willing to submerge your feet in the muddy waters, chances are you are going to

DECEMBER 2011

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A bit farther is the most ―in demand‖ parking area. Though

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students still find it hard PROJECTS UNDER CONto find vaSTRUCTION IN TC cancies, A Super Library especially The “Dome” those with Etc. schedules that start late, the parking area is now more organized and is still under expansion. Near the rotunda is the new building for the Records Section which was formerly housed at the Main Campus.

Up ahead are two newly constructed buildings, replacing the COCOFED Guest House, which is an addition to the St. Arnold, St. Mary, and St. Joseph halls of the Talamban Campus Dormitory that will cater to local students, international students, guests, and faculty.

Another observable change is the presence of food stalls near the Steyler canteens. After years of waiting, Carolinians can finally enjoy wider food variety with prices that better suit their budget.

Proceeding literally up the hill, from just an expanse of trees and bushes before, a pathway has been paved before reaching the Philip van Engelen Building, formerly known as the Arts and Sciences (AS) Building.

The pathway, which is also partly used as a parking area, leads to the newly landscaped back part of the Church of St. Arnold and St. Joseph on one side, and the GB Building, where some PE classes are held, on the other side.

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UNIVERSITYSCAPE

T

o save the teacher‘s reputation as well as his next semester‘s workload, it was decided by the writer not to drop names. But with strong convictions, I dare say the situations herein happened within the realm of our classrooms, the very places we immediately associate as avenues for students to learn and well, for some teachers, to earn.

There is another reason, aside from not having paid your school obligations or missing a final requirement, why a teacher would love to give you that grade, which apparently does not belong to any number line. By simply etching those two letters on the class record, it could mean to him more months of getting colorful pay slips—and the rest follows: more shopping bonanzas, more food on his table, more of everything.

This is no surprise to us considering today‘s stiff competition for employment opportunities. And besides, it is but fair for students who have been performing poor in the classroom to, of course as a consequence, get the red flags. He deserves it when he fails to join in the cultural mapping; he deserves it when he goes to the class at most once a week or is absent at least once a

While I still force myself to believe there are remnants of good, even best, teachers in the wild, it can‘t be denied some of them just work for the sake of saving their bellies. We have come to a point where teachers are slowly forgetting their poignant roles in the shaping of an ideal society.

True, not all of these students are capable of standing before the class and delivering a good speech when asked to or perfecting your quizzes and all, but in the name of their parents, their fathers and mothers who work hard in the offices, in other countries, even in the farmyards of the countryside, just for these youth to be sent to a school as highly-regarded as ours, please have the slightest merciful attempt to save them from getting that dreaded grade.

There must be a constant reminder for our teachers to understand that the more the students they fail, twice as much they do it to themselves. Yes, there may be slow learners in the class who at some point need special attention and more pedagogical effort but without exemptions, it should not be seen as any next-semesteremployment opportunity.

NC

The non-numeric grade called

No Credit

and the teacher’s craving to fail

by John M. Destacamento day—all these because college is supposed to be the training ground for the real thing out there.

But this is not always conclusively true. When I took up a major course sometime last year, I happened to be enrolled to the class of a fairly, newly-absorbed faculty from our department. Before, I only heard rumors about almost half of the class flunking in his subject. Until I tasted first-hand his delicious treat: almost a whole semester was spent on an endless chitchatting of his DotA adventures and almost all the time he was out of the classroom or was late to report.

So when one day he administered that semifinal exam, in the middle of a quite class answering the questions he just copied and pasted, I approached his table and surrendered on the subject (but honestly, the teacher). Now he had a better reason to give me the grades in two bold letters. And I still sighed a breath of relief after knowing he still failed some of his students who even stayed with him through the end of the semester because like he used to say: ―Kitakits lang ta inig summer”.

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Then again, teachers are also humans and at the end of the day, like anyone of us, they give in to their natural tendencies and will do everything in order to survive the tests in their own world.

I don‘t know if there could be any social principle that would best explain their ‗desire‘ to fail, in the shade of monetary considerations, but really this happens in the nooks and crannies of our classrooms, something I believe every student knows but is rather kept only within the four walls of the rooms for fear of getting a more terrible grade .

In this game of teachers marking their students with any of the non-numeric grades as their way of life, there are three clear losing parties: one is the student who shall face more days dealing with exactly the same subject, answering same assignments and doing the same projects; the second is the person who pays for the student who shall bear the burden of shouldering the same, or maybe much higher tuition expenses, for the next term; and the third is the person who trades his moral principles and integrity in the name of Philippine pesos.

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New class scheme

by Jhaine Lyka A. Villa

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ust this semester, a shift in the timetable of every student and faculty in the Downtown Campus has paved a way for only four days for some of the classes and an hour and a half time span for every class (except PE classes on Monday and Wednesday) and almost no classes on Fridays. This seems like an inconsistency of some sort.

I understand and I hope my fellow students as well, that this is the first time that they implemented this scheme. During the first semester, we were asked to pre-enlist ourselves for the next term, with the promise of either four to six days of class and the claim to yield a positive impact on the internship program and a ―competitive advantage‖ due to similarities with the La Sallian system (which I do not understand.

What‘s with the need to measure up to their standards? But I guess that‘s how benchmarking works.).

This gives us a reason to just live with the obvious chaos it has caused to the enrolment system: a class till 9PM, a thriving unhealthy lifestyle for students and the unwelcoming thought of having six days of class instead of pre-enlisted four.

Most of the students have had a hard time adjusting to their new schedules. A lot of students just have their lunch as their only break for the day and face the idea of having to study extensively for an immediate class later on.

However, are we not here to abide by rules of the school to gear us up us for the real world? We fall short to what I want to call the ―intense learning lifestyle a university student should have.‖ I often think that USC is a bit lax compared to those prestigious public schools. And I strongly believe that a university should reflect the environment that there is in the real corporate world.

Isn‘t college supposed to be our training ground for the future? This is something we should embrace and take on as a challenge. At least our university is doing its best to create an atmosphere that indeed ―fosters excellence‖.

But let‘s take a look at the brighter side of the coin. Teachers will have more time for lectures and activities. We get our fare share of compensation for the increase of this year‘s tuition – spending more time in school than anywhere else.

Some have their days off on Fridays and others with a class or two. Interns in turn will have to devote their Fridays for work and our

school organizations can have activities, assemblies or symposia with ease. This move, I was told, will improve our educational system (and cut off our university‘s electricity expenses as well).

To sum it all up, we have not yet seen the full impact of this change in the long run. We see systems in disarray, schedules in disorder. There is room for improvement. There is really.

But at the bottom of this all, I think it gives me this lingering sense of being used as a part of a tedious experiment to confirm their convictions of ―welfare‖, which I must say, have affected me so positively –as far as having more time for extracurricular activities and the like.

What concerns me is not whether I‘ll have more free time the next semester or if I‘d die with stress because of having none. But it‘s the ever-changing minds of those who started this idea. I do not want to be part of this experiment because it gives such great uncertainty; uncertain whether it will work or not or if they‘ll change their minds next semester or if they go on and on with this senseless trial and error.

I want to be part of a reality, that in the long run, their desires of reforming the educational system with the hours of teaching and adjusting to inevitable change (like of K+12) would in turn give a notchhigher form of academic excellence for me and my fellow Carolinians.

Epic Fail.

Ngano’ng musugot ra man ang eskwelahan for constructions to be going on during the day sa TC? Ang malls man gani kay during night time ra nila patrabahuon ang construction. Makadisturbo man gud sa estudyante ang kasaba, plus grabe kaabog anang mga trucks na mag agi-agi padung saka sa bukid. Also, di sad mi comfortable nga naay mga construction workers nga maghukas-hukas (taking off their shirts) lang ug musulod sa buildings kay usahay ang uban nila manitsit ug manutok sa mga female students.

—a post from

DECEMBER 2011

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Facebook page

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TOP PICK

Congratulations, ‗The

C

ongratulations to “The Carolinian,” not just the newly resurrected official student publication of the University of San Carlos, but of course, to the Carolinian—the community and the individual!

Last week, I was pleasantly sur-

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prised when I finally saw the news issue of The Carolinian, with layout, content, photos (in full color), and printing that could give our local dailies a run for their money (although I have yet to see a copy of their magazine release). Several months ago, I sat in a panel to interview those shortlisted to compose the editorial board, the crème de la crème of USC‘s student writers and graphic artists, and I‘m proud our choices didn‘t disappoint.

I commend the editor-in-chief of The Carolinian, John Destacamento, for ably leading his team to rise above all challenges in resurrecting USC‘s original school paper. I was told their team encountered strong opposition from the Supreme Student Council, particularly, from its president.

Some say it‘s funny, amusing for the student council president, once heard championing the cause of campus press while campaigning for office, to now be the first to try to stifle it. But her actions are neither funny nor foolish; to me, they‘re bursting at the seams with politics. It‘s no secret that members of her party, Stand, have long dominated the former school paper, Today‘s Carolinian, before it closed shop in 2004. And so it‘s but expected of her to support Today‘s Carolinian‘s revival versus The Carolinian‘s.

Going through past releases of Today‘s Carolinian (and its newspaper, the ―Red & Black‖), one could say that it sought to agitate with features, photos and cartoons that either sub-

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liminally or overtly challenge authority figures, incite students to anger or rebellion, or promote their failed cause (perceptibly communism, or its derivative). I used to call it ―the Kerygma for communism.‖ In a sense, the ―nega star‖ of campus press. It appeared like a publicity material for an extremist brand of ideology, and all published at the students' expense, literally. Being controlled by members from one party, it was insanely wrong to call it free press— propaganda, maybe, but not free press.

When I was still studying in USC, a teacher of mine who was a former editor-in-chief of Today‘s Carolinian shared how the paper (and ―all those who controlled it from the outside‖) would allegedly siphon the publication‘s funds to finance their group‘s activities off-campus (―sa bukid‖).

Although he presented no actual proof to his claim, it all made sense to me since even if the University collected the student publication fees for Today‘s (at Php 22.75 per student per semester) and this was reflected in our assessment slips issued by the University each semester, the editorial board of Today‘s Carolinian, year after year, refused to submit themselves to external audit, using ―campus press freedom‖ and their supposed autonomy as an everconvenient excuse. I mean, if there was nothing to hide, if there were no anomalies, they shouldn‘t have been averse to the perfectly logical idea of external audit.

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e Carolinian‘ So one day during the first semester of 2004, tired of Today‘s perpetual escape from accountability, accompanied by my ex (who, without prior consent, will remain nameless here), and with my copy of the Campus Journalism Act in hand, I went to Fr. Roderick Salazar, the University President at the time, to demand for an accounting of Today‘s Carolinian‘s expenses. Of course, he had nothing to present to me because, like I said, Today‘s would always refuse external audit. ―But that‘s just so, so, so wrong,‖ I argued to Fr. Salazar. ―If the school collects on their behalf, that makes the school accountable to the students, and even if Today‘s claims autonomy, they cannot claim complete fiscal autonomy (they can only be autonomous or independent in terms of editorial content, adhering to the principles of free press) because the University collects for them.‖ ―It doesn‘t add up: each student would pay publication fees but not all students get a copy of the paper? Only a few bundles would be left at the Main and TC lobby each semester; literally hundreds of copies vis-à-vis the thousands of Carolinians who pay each semester. Extrapolating Php22.75 collected from around 16,000 students, that‘s more than Php360, 000 per semester—and they give out only several hundred copies?

Where‘s the rest of the money? And they refuse to be audited by the University that collects on their behalf?

Baloney! A bunch of bull if you ask

DECEMBER 2011

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me.‖ So my suggestion to Fr. Salazar was to stop collecting for Today‘s Carolinian and allow them to collect on their own (not to shut them down). Why? First, because you cannot force a student like me to pay for a paper which—if I‘m (un)lucky enough to get my copy—produces material that offends my sensibilities (one time, they had a magazine cover of a toilet with shit, real shit; blasphemous poems/features that suggest Jesus was a homosexual, etc.), and worse, would refuse to be audited externally for their use of money collected from the student body. Second, allowing them to collect on their own addresses the issue of corruption and competence. They have to come up with quality materials that students would find interesting enough to patronize, and when they do sell, each student who pays for a copy and is issued a receipt for it gets a copy right away (or will definitely expect one).

That‘s a paper that‘s not only free, but one that is, more importantly, truly accountable.

The following semester, the University stopped collecting fees; Today‘s Carolinian virtually shut down and I got death threats for brunch. If they were not too lazy to get their act together, they could‘ve continued with their operations and sold their materials to the students who would buy them, and there wouldn‘t have been a vacuum in USC‘s campus press. But the partisan paper who claims complete autonomy, apparent-

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ly, cannot exist without the University‘s help in collecting fees. Figures.

Now, after seven long years of having no campus press, the original school paper (pre-Martial Law publication) is finally back, with real news and no partisan motives, ready and able to provide the genuine and fair check-and-balance we need and deserve in USC. Once again, congratulations to The Carolinian and its editorial board. You make me very, very proud! Keep it up!

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COMMUNITY SENSE

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raceful even in her chair, she sits with a poise that stands out like a queen on her throne. Her hands overlap each other at just the right angle, still, but elegant as they rest on her lap or one hand could be fanning those beloved features inside and out slowly while waiting patiently.

Rizal had described her as Inang Pilipinas, she is meant to be the ideal image of Filipino women; with her charm to make men swoon day and night, her beauty to be forever framed in minds of the people and the heart that beats deeply for justice and truth and love. It wasn‘t only Jose Rizal who repeatedly explained the ways and life his character, Maria Clara, would go through in one of his controversial novels of his times, but many more authors and believers coined the term ―Maria Clara‖ to a female figure who, among others, practiced nobility and virtue with spirit.

The ideal figure includes how during the Spanish colonization women were religious, conservative and respected in their community. They worked within their roles and the roles their husbands would play, their brother‘s choices and the children they would bring up in their own homes. With the population less than what it was today, finding women who were like that could be among the elite of the barangays, the mestizas and the ones to a proper education. A family‘s background could contribute to that title but it is less of a façade and more of how a young lady would carry herself to the world that not only was she called one, she was living it out like it would be her own philosophy.

Maria Clara from Rizal‘s Noli Me Tangere seemed at the first to be a frail character that had no control of her decisions as the plot spiraled into a dark corner for her family, her love and her future.

However, Maria Clara is also depicted as a strong woman inside and somehow is determined not to yield to any other choice; to be a puppet under the friars but fights for her right and her love (to Crisostomo Ibarra). So it is not about looking pretty with your nose held up high, ladies. Let‘s be honest to consider that your attitude, your behavior and your way with others, no

by Mariah L. Mahinay

Where is

matter what the social status, embodies one to be a real Filipina for our country, and with that practice, helps build a nation. ―Behind every successful man is a woman.‖ It‘s an adept quote that circulates on the idea that a man‘s achievement cannot be without a woman‘s touch. It‘s not the sexist remark of who is weaker without the other but even on a political stand, the influence of a woman based on her character can take effect on her partner. ―Ginaingon nga ang babaye‟ng Pilipino mas maisog og dugo, mas kugihan, mas kasaligan kay sa mga lalaki Pilipino….Apan tungod usab sa ingon, daghang mga bana nga maayo unta og lakat ang ilang kinabuhi, may mga utok ug higayon nga magsilbi sa nasud ug katilingban , apan madaot lang sa ambisyon ug kahangol sa mga asawa.‖ (from Ang Inahan ni Mila by Austregelina Espina-Moore) The new age of sexes given an equal stand has been debatable for centuries. Women were not given much time or patience or proper respect in the older cultures and that gets much head-shaking from our view today. Girls alike are going beyond stereotypical borders to be the new ―unique Monique‖. It goes as far as given the chance to be as loud as they can in arguments, as free as they desire to be outdoors and indoors, to be a rebel when opposed and on and on and on.

There is nothing wrong with diversity, with being literate and knowledgeable. Go and learn but what many today fail at is the application with one‘s manners— accommodation of friends or strangers. Be out all night to party but come back with the right head on your shoulders, please. Behave when you can, it pays when you can. Don‘t overdo the shyness either. Do you love your country enough or plan to leave it and forget as it seems easier to give up on?

Young girls today are faced with a distorted image of what it means to be a woman. Far from the teachings of Maria Clara figures, the preservation of our heritage is getting lost in the mixture of alien beliefs that may destroy one‘s own dignity.

Maria Claras are rare to find and openly admit to society of their existence. Many consider them now the old ways that kept women from possibilities. Not true.

Maria Claras are meant to be flexible, creative but are also always ready to address the demands of the newer and bolder world. Inday, Day, Nene, Gwapa, Maldita—call them whatever you want, each woman is born to be a Maria Clara, a protagonist in the injustice planted in a plot of truth and lies; she stands for what she has to offer and what she could receive to comfort and help her country and its people.

Maria Clara?

Has the woman of today’s society outgrown her image?

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ni John M. Destacamento

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ang pagpanglimos manganak og laing krimen nga mamahimong rason sa pagbara sa trapiko sa kakarsadahan og kini hagit sa kahimsog sa katawhan sanglit hugaw og posible nga dunay sakit ang nangayo og limos og labaw sa tanan, kini makaguba sa dignidad sa mga tawo nga gigamit sa mga sindikato sa ilang modus.

aglagiting ang kasanag sa haring adlaw sa kalye P. del Rosario apan daw wa kini nabatyagan ni Noy Kaloy.

Kun atong huna-hunaon, nindot ang tumong niining maong bala-od.

Pinaagi niini, dili lang kahimtang ni Noy Kaloy ang gipakabanaan sa atong mga opisyal kundi hasta usab ang kinabuhi sa mga kabataan nga diha taliwala sa init og abog nga kalye nangita‘g panginabuhian.

Didto ilawom sa usa ka light post gawas sa Main Campus, naglurag ang luyahon niya nga lawas. Nangatastas ang tahi sa iyang bisti. Wala pa nangaalim ang mga samad sa iyang walang tiil. Daw dili na mupukwat ang iyang mga mata og wa ko nakahibaw kun kini tungod sa kainit o sa iyang katiguwangon. Apan sa matag estudyante nga mulabay, mapugos sa pagpintal og pahiyom ang iyang mga ngabil; dayon, iya na usab buhaton ang naandang ritwal para siya mabuhi: ibukhad niya ang iyang palad uban ang pangamuyo nga dunay piso o bisan baynte-singko sentimos nga mutagaktak sa iyang baso.

Usahay, dili ba mas makalagot makakita og mga tawo nga mas dagko og himsog tan-awn ang lawas kaysa nato unya nagsalig lamang hinu-on sa paghatag sa uban? Nahimutang nga dili konsentidor ang bala-od sa mga tawo nga duna man pud unta‘y pisikal nga abilidad aron makapangita‘g trabaho.

Si Noy Kaloy usa lamang sa dos punto singko milyones ka mga Pilipino nga misalig sa kamanggihatagon sa mga tawo sa karsada aron sila mabuhi.

Alang kaniya, ang matag sinsiyo nga mukagulkol sa iyang baso mao‘y sumpay sa pipila ka gutlo na lamang sa iyang kinabuhi. Sa ordinaryo nga tawo, ang piso usa lamang ka lingin nga metal apan kaniya, kini ang tubag sa nagdagu-ok nga tungol.

Ubos sa kasamtangang bala-od sa nasud, mamahimong mabilanggo si Noy Kaloy. Hugot nga gidili ang pagpangayo og limos og ang pag- hatag niini pinasikad sa Presidential Decree No. 1563 o ang AntiMendicancy Law. Giingong DECEMBER 2011

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Labaw sa tanan, duna‘y mga sindikato nga migamit sa atong mga kabataan sa pagpanglimos. Panahon na pud nga masikop ning mga klase sa tawo kay kun atong tan-awon, sila man ang mas naka-benepisyo sa kusog sa mga bata nga konektado niining ilang modus; usahay, ang kwarta nga natigom gamiton pa gani sa uban pa nilang operasyon sama sa droga, prostitusyon og mga krimen.

Niadtong Agosto, gianunsyo sa siyudad sa Sugbo ang pag-obserbar sa Anti-Mendicancy month ubos sa temang ―Ang Paghatag Maayo, Apan sa Kadalanan Dili Husto‖. Bisan dinhi sa ato, kusog ang kampanya sa lokal nga kagamhanan kabahin sa pagsumpo niining problema sa pagpangayo‘g limos sa kadalanan. Gani, sa city ordinance 1631, kadtong madakpan nga manghatag og limos ngadto sa mga beggars pamultahon og usa ka libo ka 6

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pesos o pahimu-on og serbisyo alang sa komunidad.

Apan ang pagpamulta dili mao‘y tukmang solusyon aron mahunong kining nagpadayon nga talan-awon sa atong mga kalye. Sanglit ang pagpanglimos usa lamang ka istasyon sa nagsumpay-sumpay nga problema nga ang hinungdan mao ang gitawag nato og ―kakabus‖.

Tinuod, mahimong dakpon si Noy Kaloy. Apan dili ikalimod sa gobyerno nga luyo niining makakumot sa galamhan nga sitwasyon mao ang kamatuoran nga dunay mga Pinoy nga nag-antos sa kalisod-pinansyal, nga dunay mga igsuon nato nga ana-a nagpuyo sa kawala‘y pag-asa og sa kapanghimaraot, mga tawo nga literal nga mika-on og abog og gihimong banig ang bugnaw nga karsada.

Sa akong pagduki-duki, akong nasayran nga panahon pa ni Pres. Marcos napanday kining maong bala-od.

Milabay ang upat ka dekada og ani-a gihapon kita, nag-atubang sa susamang hagit siguro tungod kay nagkadaghan ang kabus o ba kaha nagkagamay ang oportunidad alang sa desenteng panrabaho.

Kagahapon, mihulog ko‘g diyes pesos sa baso ni Noy Kaloy. Nahibaw ko nga pan ra ang iyang mapalit sa maong kantidad apan dili mahinungdanon kanako ang gidak-on o kagamay sa gihatag kay ang pagtunol ngadto sa mga nagkinahanglan, labi na niining hinangat nga adlaw sa Pasko, usa ka balaang butang.

Nasayod ko, karon tu-a napud sa iyang pwesto si Noy Kaloy, sa iyang susamang bisti, samad sa tiil og luyahong lawas. Magpaabot na pud siya nga duna‘y mutagaktak nga sinsiyo sa iyang baso.

Og hina-ot nga di siya mahutdan sa iyang mga pahiyom.

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COMMUNITY SENSE

Photo by | So Fab Riza

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DECEMBER 2011

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COMMUNITY SENSE

Reciprocating Their

Love

by Mariah L. Mahinay

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hen we are born into this world, no matter where we came from or whose last name we may hold for the first stages of life, we join a family.

Even if your adoption paper takes you aback or gets you thinking how complete you should be, you are part by blood and water of a family, so this makes every person a fortunate person. Hard to believe? It‘s true.

Our parents are the most common people to think about in a day. Seeing them since our first memory, to the first day of school, to the major fights between siblings and unforgettably the call of allowance-asking.

Then sometimes, there is this chance we get when we have that affectionate parent resting on our backs for years and years, smiling inside and out just to see you even at your worst morning look. What do they see that make them act like a magnet even if you are too heavy for their laps to be sat on?

Daddy says ―Ang akong palang-gingging! Duwa ta beh…‖ Little daughter says ―Sige pa! Sige pa!‖ and she waves her arms happily in the air so he can carry her up and the feeling of being lifted from the ground is as magical as flying.

He puts her on his shoulders and circles the room like an airplane as if going wherever the sky opens up to. The pace gets faster and the airplane is a jet zooming past mirrors and toys and breakable table decorations, the jet rises and lowers to the tiled floors of their living room. It doesn‘t stop there because the little hair-bowed pilot talks over her panting flying partner, she talks about anything and that is everything worth hearing from for the day. Ah, those were the memories.

Ma goes ―Palihug gud ko sa sugar dong…‖ Smallish boy picks up the cup of white sugar but 1

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dips his finger and watches the crystals stick to his skin just the way he likes it. ―Ma! Ma! Kaon ko ani ha? Please ma ha?‖ he cries and she consents to his one try which becomes his second, his third to his… well, there is still enough for the mixture anyway. ―Kinsai maayong mu tabang ni mama?‖ she asks while stirring the wooden spoon, ―AKO MA!‖ he says, licking more sweet crystals in between his fingers. He can‘t reach the counter but he waits patiently because each ingredient is fun to pass around, each color and smell brings two people in a large or small kitchen closer. Yay! To little kitchen helpers.

The years and hormones come and go, and each new day their child explores the world that they will try to survive on their own. When they do get older their little pet names are sometimes taken for granted, it was that sweet calling like no other between you or your parent/s.

This Christmas, enjoy that comfort with that affectionate dad or mom or both waiting for you. Their cuddling, their hugs you may squirm out of because it‘s too much. Maybe, it can be too much literally so hug them back in return, show how you feel and maybe you won‘t notice the how they are running against time for you. Their old habits of playing or bonding you tend to ignore or turn down.

This doesn‘t mean you will have to go through regression. No one is getting younger and more immature everyday. Take the time to come over to your loving parent/s and be smothered in love for the holidays. Why? Because you won‘t get this kind affection anywhere else.

They could be your biggest fans and when they pass on, and you go back home, you may look at that corner where pa used to sit or that area where ma would pull food out of while waiting for you. The exact image fades in your mind but the instant voice from their greetings echoes all around the house.

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by Melissa Angelique P. Malaga

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ouldn’t it be awesome if it snowed here in Cebu? Wait, that’s gonna be funny! Who’s ever heard of snow in the Philippines? Still, there’s always the possibility of an unexpected change in the seasons and there’s the probability of global warming and the melting ice bergs…

Well, let’s start off the list of what could possibly be the outcome if it did snow in Cebu.

Obviously, we Cebuanos would scream “Hala…snow…yay..!” and we’d probably go and jump into the ground and make snow angels. I’m pretty sure we could make snow angels.

Then, we’d start craving for something hot like binignit or sikwate in the long run. And if that doesn’t work, we could go to Ayala or SM and buy those big bulky winter parkas and scarves. And for us who can’t afford Forever 21 fur coats and Promod bomber jackets, there’s always the ever faithful and budget friendly “UKAY-UKAY”! Hey, at least Cebuanos would be fashionable even in the cold seasons. Imagine scarfs and coats you only see in American movies here in snowy Cebu!

And snowball fights? Oh yeah and with even bigger fields like Abellana, Terraces or even Family Park, who wouldn’t resist a good old fashion snowball fight. Don’t forget those forts and flags if you want to try something like Airsoft and Dota.

What about romantic winter dates? Yeah, that could work. The “Dodongs” could take their “Indays” to Fuente Rotunda and sit on those picturesque benches with snow covered trees and admire the falling snowflakes and tiny blizzards. Oh and there’s also that big Christmas tree…that’s gonna score some date points.

Speaking of snowflakes, they say that snowflakes taste like ice candy. That could justify the reason why kids in the States and in those movies stick their tongues out to catch them. Maybe we could do that. Though I doubt why we would want to stick our tongues out to catch either snow bits or floating paper. Ah well…it’s cause its snowy!

What about winter games? We could go bob sledding at the SRP. Yeah, it would be frozen and snowy just the way it is for bob sledding. What, we’re not used to it? Heard of the Jamaican bob sled team? Yeah, Jamaica, you know Rasta country. They didn’t have snow and they were able to have a bobsled team by 1988. I’m pretty sure we can have our own bob sled team just like we have our own Azkals. And we ought to have hot Cebuanos, hot like the Younghusband brothers and they’d look cute and fine in those bobsled suits.

Skating could work too. We could have our own Michelle Kwan. And we could use the frozen watersheds at Buhisan and the Guadalupe and Mananga rivers for skating rinks and hockey games. It would be fun! We could also ski down the hills of all those hill side subdivisions in Talisay and Talamban and for the skater boys out there, there’s always snowboarding. Don’t forget those sleek snowboarding suits and oversized goggles.

Of course, one can actually enjoy a good hot cup of coffee paired with a tasty bagel or sandwich and all those coffee shops will finally be heated. You can see it now, Cebuanos removing their heavy jackets, cupping their mittens together to warm their frost-bitten hands while ordering the hottest cappuccinos and those oven fresh pastries as a side. And those mountains are gonna be covered in snow kind of like those Swiss Alps. Or maybe the Himalayas. Maybe we could have our own Abominable Snowman. Wow that would be something unique to Cebu.

But wait…we’re not used to this weather. And even if we were surprised by this, I have no doubt in my mind that the first thing we are gonna do is get warm. Ah well, before we get started on the probabilities of snow here in Cebu, I guess we have to get used to the real impending temperature: twenty five to thirty degrees in range! Then just get that snowy feeling this Christmas by turning your aircon on full blast.

DECEMBER 2011

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NATION EYES NATION EYES

Pangalawa naman ay ang pagbuo ng komisyong mag-iimbestiga sa mga kababalaghang nangyari sa administrasyon ni dating Pangulo Gloria Arroyo. Kaya kawawa si pandak, ‗di siya tinatantanan ni kalbo. Ayun tuloy, nagkahypoparathyroidism.

Sa pangatlo naman ay tila naalarma si P-Noy sa pagsikat ni Bruno Mars, Justin Bieber at Super Junior kaya inutusan niya ang mga istasyon ng radyo na oras-oras magpatugtog ng Original Pilipino Music (OPM). Pero ano‘ng magagawa niya? Mas umiindak na ngayon ang mga tao sa "Teach Me How to Dougie" kaysa sa "Otso Otso".

At dahil nga naaadik na sa internet ang mga tao, sinamantala niya ito at naglunsad ng sarili niyang website. Pero sa libu-libong Pinoy na nagfe-facebook araw-araw, swerte na lang siya kung may bibisitang isangdaan sa website niya. Kasi nga nawawalan na ng pag-asa ang mga tao na matutulungan pa sila ng gobyerno, kaya hindi na sila sa presidente humihingi ng tulong kundi sa chatmate na lang (swerte lang rin kung hindi nila kailangang maghubad).

Sa labing pitong buwan niya sa serbisyo, may naipatupad siyang dalawampu't siyam na Executive Orders, na kung susuriin ay halos kalahati nito ay pag-iiba lang ng pangalan sa iba't ibang departamento ng gobyerno. Wala ring kwenta. Sana ipinambili na lang niya ng wig ang bolpeng ipinirma niya.

Dahil mukhang iiyak na si Noynoy sa mga unang talata, pangitiin naman natin siya, dahil 'eto ang maganda.

Nung una siyang umapak sa pwesto, P47.68 ang halaga ng piso kontra dolyar. Sa pagtatapos ng 2010, tumaas

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ugtong, bugtong. Hindi gwapo, hindi matipuno, isa siyang kalbo at ama niya'y si Ninoy Aquino.

Sino ito?

Siya'y walang iba kundi si Benigno Simeon "Noynoy" Aquino III o ngayo'y mas kilala sa tawag na P-Noy, pangalang hindi maganda pakinggan dahil parang buong Pilipinas dala ng pangalang 'yan, pero taguri lang pala ng isang taong wala halos nagawa nung siya'y senador pa, pero biglang naging pangulo dahil kamamatay lang ng nanay niya. Di bale na. Nandiyan na 'yan eh, tsaka baka dalawin pa tayo nina Ninoy at Cory 'pag pinakialaman pa natin 'yan.

Kaya ngayon, kwestyunin, ay este, talakayin nalang natin ang mga patakarang naipatupad niya.

Una niyang binigyang-pansin ay ang mga opisyal ng gobyerno na sa kalsada, porke't pula ang kulay ng plaka, kung makaasta, akala mo‘y pag-aari niya lahat ng pwedeng daanan sa Pilipinas. At sa tulong ng kapulisan, naisakilos niya ang patakarang 'walang wang-wang'.

Pero bilang presidente, malamang kabikabila ang appointments niya, kaya ewan na lang kung di siya biktima ng sarili niyang babala.

ito sa P45.459 at kahit na iniiyakan ito ng OFWs, marapat na ito'y ating ngitian (bahala na kung 'plastic').

Ang utang-eksternal naman ng Pilipinas nung 2009 ay $62.97B pero bumaba ito sa $61.85B nung 2010.

Noong taong ding ‘yun ay nagkaroon lamang tayo ng 1.1% na pagtaas sa GDP (anong klaseng Pilipinas ba iniwan ni Gloria?) pero sa pagtatapos ng 2010, tumaas ito ng 6.7%.

Naka-import ang Pilipinas ng mga produktong nagkakahalaga ng $57.24B nung 2009, pero bumaba ito nung 2010 sa halagang $46.39B na lamang. Nageksport tayo ng $37.51B na produkto sa taong 2009 na mas mababa kaysa sa $45.89B nung 2010.

At ang administrasyong Aquino ay nakapagtala ng 15% hunger rate nung 2010, na kahit mataas pa rin ay siyang pinakamababa simula nung 2007.

May nagawa naman siyang kaayaaya sa halos dalawang taon na serbisyo.

Pero mahaba pa ang ilalagi ng mukha niya sa Malacañan. Maraming sigarilyo pa ang kanyang hihithitin bago siya bumaba sa pwesto. Marami pang pwedeng mangyari sa natitirang apat na taon.

At kung sa taong 2016 ay kakapal na ang buhok niya kasabay ng pagusbong ng ekonomiya ng Pilipinas, o kaya'y tuluyan nang malagas lahat ng buhok niya kasama ang pabagsak na bansa, ay walang nakakaalam.

Sana nga lang ay hindi tayo ang susunod na Aprika dahil 'pag nangyari 'yun, wala ng sasagip sa 'tin. Hindi na rin kaya ng Amerika dahil si Obama nga ay lumuluha-luha na sa sitwasyon ng Estados Unidos. Lahat na rin yata ng Iluminati tinawag niya pero tila cannot be reached sila.

At higit sa lahat, sana sa ipinangako niyang matuwid na daan, nawa'y sa dulo nito makikita na natin ang mga ngiti sa labi ni Juan.

Amoy ni P Noy P— — ni Jewelmae C. Solas 1

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BAHO ni GLORIA ni Jewelmae C. Solas

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araming ipinagmamalaki ang Pilipinas at kamakailan lang ay may nadiskubre na naman sa atin, maliban sa pagkakasama ng Underground River sa Palawan sa New Seven Wonders of Nature.

Nasa atin ang pinakaastig na cosplayer sa mundo at 'yan ay si dating Pangulong Gloria MacapagalArroyo.

laban kay Arroyo dahil kailangan pa umano nitong harapin lahat ng nakaambang kaso laban sa kanya. At katulad ng inasahan, umalma si Arroyo, sabay diing nalabag ang kanyang karapatang makapagbyahe. Si Gloria and Friends umapela sa korte dahil hindi raw makatarungan ang ginawa ni de Lima (define 'makatarungan' Gloria!).

Ika-15 ng Nobyembre nang lumabas ang desisyon kaugnay ng inihaing order ng Department of Justice. At ang resulta? Otso-singko, pabor kay Arroyo. Naghain ang korte ng temporary restraining order laban sa ipinasa ni Secretary de Lima. Bakit 'di naman siya mananalo, eh sa labintatlong huwes ng Kataastaasang Hukuman, walo sa kanila ang in-appoint ni Gloria, lima lang ang galing sa administrasyong Aquino. Sistema ng hustisya talaga, pati desisyon sa korte, manipulado ng katapatan na nabili rin naman ng pera. Akalain mong bukas pa ang hukuman nang 6:30PM, kahit 5:00PM ang closing time para tanggapin ang diumano‘y P2M galing kay Gloria! Parang pulitika lang 'yan, pamahalan ng loyalidad. Kung sino ang may pinakamalaking bayad, sa kanyang bahay magmumula ang mga paputok pagkatapos ng eleksyon.

Si Manang Glo naman, sinamantala ang desisyon at nagpa-reserve ng labing-isang flight. Kaya baka ang perang nakamkam niya mula 2001 hanggang 2010 ay nasa kamay na ng Philippine Airlines.

Magkagayon, huwag na kayong magtaka kung sa susunod na eleksyon, may Lucio Tan nang nakasulat sa balota.

Pero ang heaven naman, pumapanig pa rin talaga sa dapat panigan. Buti na lang at hindi nabibili ng pera ang kalangitan, kaya si de Lima, pagkatapos luhuran at halikan lahat ng santo ay nanalo rin sa bandang huli.

Biyernes, November 18, sa gitna ng tangka na naman

Halos isang buwan ding parang isang kape sa umaga ang mukha ni Gloria sa telebisyon, mukha niyang parang nabomba, suot-suot ang isang brace na tumutulong sa pagpapagaling sa kanyang sakit na inilalarawan ng ilan na "rare disease" o sa mga salita naman ni Senate President Juan Ponce Enrile, na pagkatapos ng tatlong buwan lang mula nang lumabas na may sakit si GMA naniwala na may dinaramdam talaga ito, para daw itong "Robocop".

Unang narinig na may hypoparathyroidism and dating pangulo noong August 2011 at simula nu‘n ay nakatutok na ang buong sambayanan sa kanyang kondisyon (nag-aabang kung hanggang kailan siya tatagal). Ito ang dahilan kung bakit halos gawin na niyang bahay ang St. Luke's Medical Center, ang ospital na abot-kaya. . . . . lang ng mayayaman. At 'di naglaon nagpaabot na siya ng planong lumuwas ng bansa, sa kadahilanang kailangan niyang sumailalaim sa mas advanced na pagsusuri na, pangatwiran niya'y sa ibang bansa lang daw pwedeng gawin. Sa ibang salita, hindi na kaya ng powers ni St. Luke.

Dumagdag sa cast ng movie of the year na ito si Tiya Pusit, ay este, Department of Justice Secretary Leila de Lima na naghain ng hold departure order

DECEMBER 2011

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niyang pag-alis ng bansa at sa maikling panahon lang matapos isapubliko ang desisyon ng SC pabor kay Gloria ay inaresto ito sa St. Luke's Medical Center sa harap ng kanyang asawa, mga abogado, at iba pang kasapi ng Liga ng Mandadaya sa Halalan (kung mapapatunayan). Ngumiti pa ito, na para bang nalaman na niya kay Madame Auring ang kanyang kapalaran.

Matapos ang makasaysayang pagaresto, sari-saring personalidad ang nagkomento at hindi nawala sa listahan si dating Pangulong Joseph Estrada na, habang si Gloria mangiyak-ngiyak sa sinapit, ay parang si Brad Pitt lang na pa"Hi! Hello" habang nililibot ang Universal Records. Eh nauna sa Singapore si Erap eh. Gusto yatang abangan si Gloria ro‘n pero napusasan agad sa Pinas kaya nag-around-the country na lang.

"While it is optional to go up, it is always mandatory to go down". Ito lang ang nasabi ni Ex-President Fidel Ramos nang natanong kaugnay kay Arroyo.

Tama nga naman siya. Kaya, sana nakinig si Gloria kay Galileo nung sinabi niyang lahat ng nasa taas ay bumababa rin. Ayan tuloy nadakip siyang hindi man lang nakapag-tsaa. Pero di bale, aircon naman ang titirhan niya sa nalalabing oras ng kanyang buhay, kaya makapagpapahinga siya nang matiwasay, o sa Ingles, ―she can rest in peace‖.

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NATION EYES An 18-year old girl, whose life is complicated, writes a Christmas letter to Santa Claus.

House Bill 4244 St. Brgy. Philippines, Asia December 15, 2011

Mr. Santa Claus Christmas, Incorporated Somewhere Avenue North Pole

A Letter to

Dearest Mr. Claus, First of all, I apologize if my letter is too long.

But I do believe that you will whole-heartedly read this because Mommy Miriam and Daddy Edcel told me you are a good, generous guy. I guess you‟re the kind of guy who will listen to my sentiments. Sentiments that have bothered me for years now. Some people would tease me that I‟m a bummer, that I am useless in this world, and that instead, I have to perish like snow caps melting up in your place.

Santa, From

Let me begin by sharing you a story that happened in lmy childhood. Whenever I passed the playground in Shallow-Minded Street, a neighborhood bully with a faux hawk hairdo whose name is Dumbface would always tease me that I‟m only good at KameCondom Wave. Of course, I was insulted because he underestimated me as someone who didn‟t have talents or even dreams in life. But I do. I‟m a visionary.

One time in my Health Issue University, the captain of ProLife cheerleading team (I prefer to call her the Intolerant) refused to accept my application to join the team and worse, accused me of doing a super major offense which I did not even do— abortion.

Because she was so popular in school, she gossiped around the false information to everybody. I was embarrassed so I went to the dean, Ms. Debunker, to complain against the Intolerant and stop the gossip all at once. Immediately, the office called for a meeting. In our intensely hot discourse, the bitch accused me an illegal drug dealer who transacted with Poor Girl. She intensified her accusations that the drug I was dealing with was abortifacients, worse than narcotics.

After hearing those malicious words, I stood up and was like, “Are you insane?” I then defended my side and told the principal that the only truth in her statement was meeting with the Poor Girl. Yes, I did sometimes meet the Poor Girl after classes not because I wanted to give out some abortifacients that may ruin her life but because I wanted to help her by giving contraceptives. I knew I was doing the right thing.

Poor Girl was in distress and couldn‟t afford those stress-relieving remedies. She expressed her fear that her continuing stress would lead to unwanted pregnancy and diseases like HIV and gynecological cancers.

With that confrontation, Ms. Debunker called for further investigation and if found guilty, I would be expelled from the school. When investigations were going on, the Intolerant kept on making gossips. She even circulated that by giving drugs to Poor Girl, I was destroying an “entity” on her body. I monologued that „no rights were annihilated‟ (since there was nothing to destroy in the first place, in the fertilization phase).

Chit-chatting around the school with me as a subject became a spare time activity among the students. I held myself ignoring them but my ears could not stop absorbing those lies about me. But fate was good to me. World Health Organization a.k.a WHO, a student/nerd, came to Ms. Debunker and stood as a reliable witness to confirm that I was really giving Poor Girl contraceptives, not abortifacients. With his support, my good intentions and honesty became even clearer to Ms. Debunker and to some people. Others though, who were influenced by that filthy cheerleader captain, looked at me disgustingly whenever I passed by the corridors of the school. This incident doesn‟t matter to me now because one thing is for sure, I‟m not for abortion and I won‟t ever be.

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Is having concern with the environment evil? I ask you this Santa because there are people judging me and it has been really confusing me a lot until now. I‟m just concerned at the condition of our town‟s Lake Philippines. This lake has been inhabited by population lilies. I approached the nearby DGM or Department of Go and Multiply (an environmental agency) and addressed them the lake‟s problem. The department‟s representative just told me to let the population lilies grow because disturbing the population lilies would mean changing the natural beauty and ecosystem of the lake. I was like, “If population lilies continue to throng Lake Philippines, the lake will be impoverished (means ‗ugly‘ in our dialect).‖ They didn‟t listen. They argued that overcrowding of population lilies doesn‟t have to do with the lake being impoverished (Sorry Santa, if I like using our dialect translation, instead of the English word „ugly‟) and that instead of using their funds and time on just curbing the number of population lilies, they just apportion them on productivity of jobs, a unique, beautiful kind of fish that doesn‟t procreate much— culturing jobs would make the lake not anymore impoverished, they insisted.

,m RH Bill

I impinged my brain to contradict on their assertion.

Then, I said, “We can consider both, right? I mean it‟s not just jobs that we need to produce. We also need to control the population lilies.” For the second

by Leonilo T. Inot, Jr. time, they didn‟t listen. I thought at that moment how appalling they were to confine themselves in the lesser area of development. I left their department, after seeing their eyes that despised me for intervening in their affairs. But I have always believed that my idea could beautify Lake Philippines. I was disappointed. I went to the lake. I wanted to see it before the domination of population lilies. Econ, a friend of mine, saw me there and went beside me. He told me this, “A rapid growth of population lilies has a negative impact on economy (means „condition of the lake‟ in our dialect).” I was happy to know I was never alone in believing.

My life‟s rigor even transits in my love life. I‟m in love with a guy friend whose surname is Law. Some people, who are inborn intruders of others‟ lives are saying that we are not meant for each other. How I long my enemies to give me a break on this one. Actually, he comes from this political family whose power and influence are known throughout our community. They are respected. That may be their reason of disagreement. And to have this feeling from such is quite ambitious. I don‟t have an idea what he feels for me. But hey, who knows? Nothing is impossible, right? My cousin, Anti-Trafficking, is happily committed to a Law for 8 years now. It keeps me inspired to pursue this love for I know exactly what I truly feel toward him. I don‟t expect you to grant me the wish that he will realize to reciprocate my love. But if that will happen and I will end up marrying him in front of the Altar of the Congress, I will be the happiest woman in the world.

Law as my last name really fits my first name, I‟m just saying.

Despite the ridicule and abhorrence, I am thankful that I got friends and family who continue to support and encourage me in times of adversity.

Santa, I wish people who hate me for who I am will see rather the opposite of what they think of me. I wish they will see that I am for the betterment. I wish they will embrace me for who I am. That‟s my Christmas wish, Santa!

I love Christmas and in the spirit of the season, I hope you will help me pray for goodness and health in the lives of all the people, naughty or nice, most especially of those who hate me.

Sincerely Yours,

The Responsible Parenthood, Reproductive Health and Population and Development Act of 2011 P.S. If you find my name so long, you can nickname me RH Bill. That‟s what my friends and enemies call me often.

DECEMBER 2011

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ORIGINALS

His name was ‘Buknoy’

by John M. Destacamento

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nder a shelter of woven sugarcane leaves, in a middle of a vast hacienda somewhere in Northern Cebu, I found him munching buwad bolinaw for his lunch. Looking above, his barong danced everytime the April breeze puffed through the open terrains. His lagting hung few feet away on a doldol twig. As I crouched closer to him, I could see traces of scars dirtying the landscape of his face. His whole façade looked like a man of thirties but peeping through his innocent eyes, I saw his real soul—that of an eight-year-old kid.

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His name was Buknoy.

And to me, it seemed today‘s task was not new to him. I had seen him earlier cutting some rows of sugarcane with remarkable dexterity. Using the long lagting blade, he would knock down a good troop of sugarcane while his left limb gripped them to perfect suffocation. In a matter of thirty minutes, a nearly half a mile row of sugarcane was now kissing the arid ground and what‘s left was a plain, desolate earth ready for planting when scattered rains start dripping sometime in May. At the moment, it was their halftime break. The whole mission began as soon as the sun leaked through the eastern horizons and was expected to get done when western skies would turn to shades of gray or orange at the last sight of daylight.

Today, Buknoy would be paid forty-pesos for all his contributions. He could then bring home a kilo of rice to carry his family through the next day, without at least dealing with the whole botheration of having empty stomachs.

That day, I had to converse with him as fast as I could for he had to be back to his trade in a while. With downcast eyes of exasperation, he shared that he started doing this job two years back. He was the fourth in a family of seven. All his three brothers were into sugarcane harvesting job as well, the only ―legacy‖ their late father had bequeathed them.

Though he never mentioned it, I could see in Buknoy‘s eyes that he‘s afraid his younger siblings would probably end up being tapaseros as well. ―Pero nag-eskwela man ko,” he found some source of enthusiasm from somewhere that his eyes were now glowing like the mid-day sun. ―Nipaso gani si Mama pagka Martsss, sa rekog..rekognisyun namo.”

DECEMBER 2011

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For a spur of a second, I saw his lips drew a quarter of a smile when he began telling about his dreams as a scholastic achiever. The eight years young worker took pride in sharing that he received this year‘s second honors in the class. And as he put it, ―Mooost anist pud ko‖.

He tried hard to remember the moments when he had to trade study opportunities over the weekends with his labor chances in the fields. Today, his neighbors were playing dakup-dakup or bato-lata.

They lived some three kilometers away but Buknoy could hear their crisp laughter from the fields. And the feeling of missing something that was truly part of childhood was more painful than getting his skin ripped apart by the canes‘ itchy leaves.

I gazed at the heaps of sugarcane piled up in the tenwheeler truck and could hardly admit to myself somebody as slender as Buknoy could actually carry such a massive load from where the sugarcanes were planted, then through the damyo (inclined stairway) and finally reaching the top of the truck. He cut my mind short when he openly talked about his ambition of becoming a driver. ―Ingon sa drayber ana‟ng dekarga, tag sentobaynte kuno iyang sweldo sa usa ka adlaw. Lami siguro sila‟g sud-an sa balay noh?

Sardinas siguro og itlog,” he wondered.

His statements were delivered in the most conversational tone but these words hit me twice and hard. For one, I could not console myself acknowledging the fact that the child wanted to become a driver in his lifetime and on the other side, what nutrition does somebody get from canned goods and eggs? ―Kun naa pa lang mi

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trabaho nga tarong, naa unta mi kwarta. Di unta to mamatay si Papa.” Noy Lando died with no single clue of what his disease was; all Buknoy knew was that it was only a cough.

They had a sort of a medical facility in the next barrio but could only cater to simple cases. This left Buknoy oblivious on what could have ended his father‘s life.

Then he felt it was his turn to attack me with questions. Where did I live? Was the city big? Were there many cars?

Trucks? Had I seen an airplane for real? Had I been to Jollibee? Did college students carry big bags? How did it feel to drive a motorbike? Did I get honors in school? And by the way, ―Asa diay ka nag-eskwela, kuya?‖ I told him the name of my school although by the gestures of his face, I thought it was his first time hearing the label. So I took a piece of paper from my bag and penned the words: UNIVERSITY OF SAN CARLOS

and handed it to him. He then stood up, clutched his barong from above and slid the paper down into one of its pockets. ―Usa ka adlaw, tultulon nako ni, kuya.‖ He put his barong on and headed back to the sugarcane rows.

As I looked at him pacing back to his post, some memories drove me back to the years of the nineties. I was holding exactly the same lagting he was holding, feeling the same itch everytime a sugarcane blade gnawed my skin.

Then, I reckoned he still had to surpass a lot of trials ahead of him. And if ever one day, he would surpass them, the same way that I did, I would still love to recognize the boy. His name was Buknoy.

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Art by Jodie T. Ferrer

The Prostitute

She was a victim of desperation.

He was guilty of discontentment.

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N

ight joined the beat of the disco and Lando‘s eyes were stupefied by the striking of colored lights. He sat on the bar stool and requested the bartender a shot of tequila. ―Here you go sir,‖ the bartender handed him the glass.

A fat mamasan, wearing thick cherry-red lipstick and a very loose attire, came to him and said, ―You must be new here. I‘m Helen but people here call me Mamang. So, you had a tough day?‖ He boozed, put the shot glass down and then replied, ―I guess.‖ ―Well, if that‘s the case, I could recommend you to some of our beautiful girls. I assume with your look, you‘ve got a heavy pocket,‖ she grinned.

He slightly nodded. With that as a conspicuous signal, the mamasan called a lady bearing sexy floral corset with matching pair of black high heels. The lady approached them and then introduced herself to Lando in a sweet voice, ―Hi, Delilah here to answer your needs.‖ There was a jostling of the key ring, a turning of the lock and eventually, an opening of the door—they entered the motel room and felt the little breeze of the air-con slithering on their skins.

She sat on the bed with her limbs supporting her oblique trophy. He confronted her and started an innocent kiss on her lips. Few buzzing vehicles outside their motel room clamored the silent night. And so was the sound of heavens.

When effulgence of morning struck to his face, he opened his eyes and saw the real beauty of Delilah. Her face was too innocent to be a prostitute. So fresh.

She seemed like someone whom any man could fall in love with easily, he thought.

He dressed himself and was delighted to cast the promised two thousand pesos service fee on the bedside table. He left the place. **** Bringing a neutral disposition, Landon came home. ―Honey, where have you been? I‘d been trying to call you last night but you didn‘t return my calls,‖ expressed Rachel, his wife, in her lax voice. ―I was in Pareng Carlo‘s place with my other officemates. We binged on a lot of beer because he‘ll be migrating to the States and he‘ll be leaving this Thursday. God, we were so drunk. Sorry, honey, for not telling you,‖ he said. ―That‘s okay, hon. Anyway, Jerry is urgently sending me to Davao City to negotiate on our future investor. I‘ll be leaving today at nine.‖ She continued, ―I already cooked breakfast. Just go over the table. Don‘t worry. I‘ll be back tomorrow evening. I have to go now. Bye. You take care, okay?‖ She kissed on his cheek and left. It was another banal moment for him. The kiss, the leaving, the boss-urgentlysending-her, the-coming-backDECEMBER 2011

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tomorrow— these reminded him that he in reality married a very busy woman.

After being promoted as senior financial analyst of a billion-worth company which surprisingly concurred after their wedding, she could only spend less time with him, he thought. He was even intimidated with her because she got the better job. Though yes, she‘s an intelligent, loving woman, amazing to be exact but for her, career seemed to weigh more than their marriage. Well, he thought.

He practiced boredom and was sick of it, so he thought a little infidelity would combat his feeling. **** Another night and another comeback. To Cebu Utopia he went with odd excitement. He entered the bar and sit on the same bar stool. ―Well, well, well. You‘re back. How was the other night? Was shagging Delilah worth it?‖ welcomed the mamasan. ―Guaranteed!‖ he replied. ―Where is she?‖ The mamasan summoned Delilah.

He and the prostitute went at the table on the dark nook of the bar. ―So, how are you? We hadn‘t really talked the other night. Sorry if I left first.‖ He armed around her shoulders slowly and his face was nearly in contact to hers. ―That‘s fine. I‘m a prostitute. We are intended to be left or we intend to leave first. Either way,‖ she replied.

They talked. Her words were meager, so he did the talking more. ―You have a tattoo on your nape. I seriously did not notice that on our first...Mario? Who is he?‖ inquired Lando. ―He must be your ex-boyfriend.‖ He then laughed. ―Yeah,‖ answered Delilah in her inconsistent reserved voice.

When their urges had been set up, they entered same heavens.

Week after week, his unfaithful acts sustained his claimed completeness while cuckquean was being unaware.

Delilah became his regular weekly treat. **** On the thirteenth night of his chronicle as an unfaithful husband, he went to the bar at 7:17PM, early enough for the bar would open at ten. He, though, saw the mamasan who was about to enter. ―Mamang, where is Delilah?‖ he asked the mamasan. ―Hey, the bar is not yet open.

You‘re here too early. She‘s not here yet,‖ replied the mamasan. ―Can I have her address?‖ There was a trace of sternness on his face. ―No. I don‘t give my girls‘ address or their number. I don‘t allow it,‖ said the mamasan.

He insisted for the address but the mamasan was discordant to his request.

With his dire to see the prostitute, he approached another prostitute of the 5

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same bar, who was about to report for work that night. He then lifted a thousand peso bill from his wallet and negotiated for the address. With no hesitation from Delilah‘s colleague, she wrote on a piece of paper what he was yearning to learn. **** He parked his SUV in the façade of a destitute community, a smoky mountain to be exact. He knew Delilah partook herself to prostitution because she was poor but realizing she was poorer, he couldn‘t believe it. He saw greasy, malnourished kids of age five to thirteen playing around in the middle of the night. He found an old man who helplessly dragged a sack of empty cans.

Despite all he witnessed, he still propelled to fulfill all the desire of his flesh that moment. He asked an old neighbor where Delilah‘s house was. The old woman ushered him; he walked on an improvised wooden bridge with plastics, diapers and other stuff swimming through a dirty canal underneath. ―That barong-barong on the left,‖ she said as she pointed her finger.

He was rushing to get to the small house made of randomly attached plywood and roof sheets. As he was approaching, he heard a woman crying. He stopped for a while. He continued to walk and slowly reached near the open door. As he would clearly hear the crying, he would also hear someone creating anguish sounds.

So, he reached the door. What he was to witness was out of his expectation. Yes, he saw Delilah. Neither in a sexy lingerie nor her all naked body. No make-up. She was in a slightly dismantled t-shirt. She was crying while she wiped the forehead of a supine guy who happened to have gotten his right leg amputated. The guy was Mario, he realized.

Mario had bone cancer for the second time. The amputation explained the first. At that moment, he was sweating a lot as he was battling for extreme pain; Delilah was battling for extreme emotion.

Lando couldn‘t take the downhearted scene that he diverted his sight back. He left with a lot of his energy lost in the wind. What he just witnessed recurred in his mind while he walked away. Upon hopping on the first wooden step of the bridge, he couldn‘t resist to drop a tear from his eye. He then realized how an ogre he was to cheat on his wife, to let his discontentment and immoral desires eat him up. His whole encounter with Delilah crushed him so much that he downpoured with remorse and emotions. He held the wooden railing of the bridge. When the face of his wife conquered the citadel of his mind, he kneeled. But the canal underneath did not seem to care at all.

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FEATURE

Crossing Paths

Radel Paredes

with

Part-time teacher, full-time student

by Josephine Vania R. Ruiz

“A classroom is like a buffet , offering ideas. It’s the students’ task to figure out which ones to choose and where to stand.”

This is one of the firm beliefs driving Fine Arts teacher, Mr. Radel Paredes. He is married, has a Master‘s degree in Philosophy, writes a Sunday opinion column dubbed ―Crosshatchings‖ in the Cebu Daily News and is an advocate of both environmentalism and art outreach programs. His classes‘ menu serves meaty courses, marinated with constructive criticisms that often lead to food fights. Though some students are overfed, he makes sure they still leave hungry, often starving, for both facts and food.

During his time, Mr. Paredes said that he was a complacent student as far as grades were concerned. This was largely because he was more engrossed in extracurricular activities, like student activism and being a writer for the student publication. ―But I think it was this exposure to the intellectual community beyond the classroom that provided me my real education. And since second year in college, I had been working for advertising firms, NGOs, and print publications,‖ he added. ―So although my grades were failing, I would say my skills were of industry standards. Perhaps it‘s because of this that I got recruited to the faculty. But I always make it a point to maintain a professional career as an artist alongside teaching.‖

Among your many talents, what are your best and least developed assets? It‘s a bit presumptuous to say I‘m good in anything but I think what‘s been useful for me is a penchant for imagery and maybe the pursuit of wit. I don‘t say that I‘m witty, but it‘s something I want to achieve in my work. I would say my literary skill is the least developed.

ty or sensationalism of shock value in modern art? I am not totally against the use of shock because there are cases when it was necessary to jolt people into rethinking their notions about beauty, art, and the role of the artist. Were it not for the shock of Dada and Surrealism, there would have been no modern art. Of course, there‘s shallow shock value, which is a mere repetition of what has been done before. In other words, it‘s not a shock that‘s meant to change conventions. It‘s simply an imitation of an effect and does not cause or originate from a new idea.

What is your profile of an “ideal student”? Someone who has a good sense of humor, because as they say; ―humor is the highest expression of intelligence.‖ So if a student is funny, he must be smart and creative.

How important do you think academic honors are to careers?

Other than they add to your chances of getting scholarships and art residency, I don‘t really think they‘re important. They‘re something more of a distraction.

What are the changes that you would like to see in the curriculum and students? What is the essence of a Fine Arts graduate in today’s society? I‘d like to see more emphasis on thinking or developing the students‘ capacity to produce original ideas not so much about learning a computer program and that is the essence of a Fine Arts graduate.

How do you view the necessi-

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What is the relevance of filmmaking in the face of piracy and DVDs? As I always say, film is art.

Much of the issues regarding piracy only concern the industry. But if your purpose is mainly artistic expression, it isn‘t much of an issue at all. Sometimes, if it helps to widen exposure to your work, then who cares?

That‘s why some artists take advantage of the free-sharing and open market that is going on in the Internet.

Being a father, what is your dream for your daughter and did you want her to study in USC? I just wanted her to excel in whatever it is she wanted to be, and given her upbringing, I think art is already like a default background for her. So this early exposure to art may set an arbitrary direction for her. That‘s really up

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to her later, whether to pursue it or not. Of course, personally, I couldn‘t imagine a more fulfilling and exciting life than that of an artist, so I can only show what I believe is ―the good life,‖ as the Ancient Greeks would say. I would have wanted her to study in a better school, if conditions would allow it. But right now, USC remains a practical choice for us.

What would your epitaph be?

What would you want to be remembered for? I don‘t know if it‘s a need for recognition, but certainly there is the desire to make your life count, to somehow partake and take part, even in the smallest way in the movement of history. Like for an artist, the ultimate question is what you have contributed to art, whether you are recognized for it or not is not so important. ***** At first, this assignment scared the reporter out of her mind. Later, she learned that there is, and always will be, a lot more that she needs to learn.

Mr. Paredes mentioned that students should be open-minded and unafraid to explore new ideas in order to move forward. Such statements remind us that the biggest room in the world is the room for improvement but there is still this one underlying question each student would rather wish not answer, especially during times of enrollment— Are you ready to eat from his buffet?

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Da Adventures of Erglie M.

DECEMBER 2011

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Kasadya ni’ng takna-a Dapit sa kahimayaan Mao ra’y amo’ng nakita Ang panagway nga masanagon Bulahan o bulahan Ang tagbalay nga gi-awitan Awit nga halundumon Sa tanang Pasko magmalipayon Bag-ong tuig, bag-ong kinabuhi Duyog sa among mga pagbati Among awiton og among laylayon Ug sa tanang Pasko magmalipayon