papercut

hindi biro kumanta ng alto

ang magtanda ng alanganing tono

ang tumunog gaya ng kiriring ng telepono

bakit nga ba ako napunta dito

batukan ko kaya ang aking mga ka-koro

madali pa naman akong malito

buti mahaba ang pasensya ng nagtuturo

kundi baka noon pa, ako’y sumuko

pero ngayong wala na sa soprano

hindi na pumuputok ang litid ko

sisikaping pagbutihin ang karir na ito

tutal pangarap kong sumikat nang husto.

The jeep was my best friend when I entered college almost ten years ago. I did not have much of a choice as it was the only vehicle allowed inside our subdivision, the FX was yet a luxury, and I had to survive on my P100-a day allowance (bulk of which went to photocopied readings). Besides, how could I escape riding this contraption when I had classes in buildings which were fields apart?

Back then, traffic was not so horrendous and most of my rides did not take longer than forty-five minutes. I actually enjoyed the freedom of the open air every time I traveled, which I could not have if I rode the bus or FX.

I’d board a jeep at 5:30 in the morning for a 7 a.m. class, which meant I had to share it with the entire working population and students like me. My mother, fearful for her only offspring who practically grew up on a school bus, warned me not to fall asleep during the ride. So I amused myself by watching my co-passengers who had the amazing talent to sleep sitting down and not fall off the seat.

But what really stressed me out was going home at rush hour, 5:30 or 6 p.m. Sounds childish, I know, but rush hour for a seventeen-year-old trying to go home with several other people is hell. I mastered the art of gauging the spots where most people would get off just so I could get rides. There was a time I even tried to hang from a jeepney. A guy (grudgingly) had to give up his seat. By this time I had enough so upon reaching my sophomore year at college, I arranged my schedule so I could go home at 4 p.m. at the latest.

It was also while on the jeep that I experienced my first (and hopefully last!) brush with death. Our jeep was held up by a guy who pretended to be asleep, then brandished a gun. He got away with only my cellphone, which he himself dug out from the depths of my bag. Luckily, my watch was covered by my jacket and I never believed in wallets so I was the only one who was able to get home with money intact…and I even paid for my co-passengers’ fares.

There was also one time when a co-passenger pestered me for my name and number. I just gave him an alias and an imaginary landline number. He followed me part of the way I walk on foot, but fortunately I chanced upon a friend who saw me safely home.

Scary moments aside, jeepney riding has great memories. I remember chatting with a blockmate all throughout a jeepney ride, up to the time we both alighted, only to realize we didn’t pay our fare. Another time, during a gay parade on school grounds, I was aboard a jeep when an exotic creature in a colorful costume suddenly pinched me on the cheek. I love my school (but that’s another blog).

My commuting days came to a halt when I entered law school, as I lived but a stone’s throw away from San Beda. Now that I’m working again and the most convenient ride to the office is by jeep, I resurrect my love-hate relationship with this mode of transport. The weird thing is, I am now more conscious of things that didn’t irk me during my school days – the grime, dust, or stench of the road. I now hate it if someone smokes and all the smell goes to my newly-washed hair. I glower at seatmates who take up one-fourth of the bench. Maybe I have become more impatient with people than I allow myself to think I am. Or the child in me who used to savor dawn breezes is now a cranky adult who fidgets and looks at her watch every five minutes.

Sad…but I look forward to the day when I transform into a child again, and the grime, dust and stench will be plain open air once more.

On the lighter side….

5. It is better to receive (bayad) than to give (sukli). May mga manong kasing deadma sa panunukli, so magbigay na ng exact fare…if possible. Pero pag bayad ang ibibigay mo, kahit mabangga pa kayo, matanggap lang.

4. Sa hinaba-haba ng prusisyon, sa banyo rin ang tuloy. What’s the use of taking a bath, e pagbaba ko ng jeep, taong grasa na ako. Kaya diretso CR pagpasok ng office

3. Two things can occupy the same space at the same time. So what kung pang-waluhan yung jeep, siyam at siyam pa rin ang pauupuin ni Kuya…pag-uwi mo, dala mo na ang mukha ng katabi mo. In relation to this…

2. The formula is X-2=the number of passengers to comfortably sit in the vehicle. Kaya pag si manong driver ay nagtawag, let X be the number he tells you is the capacity of one side of the jeep. And my favorite…

1. What comes up must come down. Kapag ang katabi mo ay nakaupo ng pang-P50 habang ikaw ay mahuhulog na, mag-antay ng humps at umusog ka. Or pray na bumaba na siya.

(This is for a dear friend who went before his time, though I maintain that he did enough to last several lifetimes. Kuya, you are still sorely missed.)

Last Saturday I went back to St. Jude to honor somebody very special to me, and to a lot of other people. He went away only last year, but to those who had the privilege to know and love him well, his absence gets more plainly felt in our hearts.

One of the first friends I made in law school was Kuya Kiko. I first saw him as a smiling, bespectacled guy who was so persistent in selling books and case digests to our freshman class four years ago. Little did I know that we would become choirmates, and then orgmates.

He kept a very busy schedule. I would later learn that he studied after school to the wee hours of the morning, then helped his family with their business, only after which he would go home to sleep. This was his grueling regimen in law school, and I wonder if he kept nearly the same Supermanlike schedule after hurdling the Bar.

There was something in Kuya Kiko that could draw people to him instantly. Maybe it was his confidence, his effortless air in assuring people that things would get done - and yes, he kept his promises. I remember how desperate I was in locating a book for my Sales class. He not only offered to lend me his book (and he was a barista this time), but perhaps sensing my urgency, returned to his dorm room and gave it to me pronto. Other times I would text him questions I culled from readings and he’d reply rightaway. He was a truly a friend in need.

With the choir and AAA, he was just as accommodating, but if business matters needed discussing, he took things seriously. He expected a lot from members and taught us how to manage our priorities. If it was choir, he showed up for practices and played the organ, even at his own graduation. With the AAA, he showed up for meetings even when he was already working, still helped out at every bar operations and selflessly contributed to the org’s finances.

Yet he still had time for his family and friends. That was his credo in life - that a person could balance the important things in his life, that everything must be in moderation.

He was constantly busy, so alive, with so much to look forward to.

Until that day came, in the last week of September last year, when my friend called me with the news that Kuya Kiko had died of a heart attack. It was too sudden. Our Kuya Kiko, so talented, so involved with the many causes he cared for, so young…I could not believe it. Not until I got to their home that same night and saw for the first time the guy we depended so much on, lying inert in his final earthly domain.

Their house was filled to maximum capacity with tearful friends and family members. I can still recall the heartfelt testimonials of those who came to bid him goodbye. Though the experiences were different, they spoke of the same thing: Kuya knew how to give a part of himself to anyone who needed him.

That night I was given the painful realization of how easy it is to take and take from a person but not appreciate his generosity while he is there to hear it. I wish I’d hugged him more often. Texted him more often. Or simply thanked him for showing up for choir during his busiest times when I myself was not there.

Kuya, I am so sorry for the times I disappointed you, for not exerting extra effort when I could have, and for being remiss in my loyalty to my affiliations.

This is why I will hold every last Saturday of September from this year and onward sacred to your memory, and more importantly, to what you have taught us. I promise you that those lessons will live on in us and in those whose lives we touch.

And I hope that you have enough to do there in the big court in the sky.

Saturday, April 14, 2007

5:30 am. Must wake up friend. Must take a bath. Must look human.

6:45 am. Nagkita kami ni friend sa kanto ng establishment na itatago natin sa pangalang…KFC. Papunta kami sa review center. Si friend ay nagbabasa ng…novena? "Gurl ano yan?" "Gurl inabot lang sa akin…" Ah, sa Jehovah pala. Sarado pa ang Jollibee!

7:15 am. Marami nang signs of human life sa AVR. Agawan ng upuan, labasan ng gamit, ultimo brush ay naging place holder. Akalain mong buhay na pala ang mga bampira ng ganitong oras, pinakawalan na kami ng 9 pm the day before. Maganda ang seats namin ngayon. Pagdating pa ng isang friend, agahan sa canteen…itlog na naman!

8:30 am. Simula na ng pagpapakadalubhasa. Dumating na si Sir. Nagnonotes na hindi ko maiintindihan pag binasa uli. Masaya ang lecture. Nakaka-relate kahit the great pretending law student na naman ako.

9:30 am. Sir: "Why are you all so serious?" Me: "Kasi natatakot na ako sa backlog ko (o di ba hanggang ngayon, backlog pa rin ang drama ng buhay ko)." Sir: "What is this?" (nagdrowing ng kahon sa white board) "This is a promissory note…" "Hay kailangan ko ng kape."

10:05 am. Nakakatulog ang nasa harap ko. Nagsasalita na ang tiyan ko. "Gurl magkape tayo." "Dun tayo sa fourth floor para walang tao." "Okay, you can break yourselves." "Uy Bread Pan!" "Hi! Dito ka rin pala nagreview…"

10:30 am. Tuluy-tuloy na pagpapakadalubhasa. Nagsasagot ng bar questions. Deadma kung mali sagot ko, ako lang naman nakakaalam, hehehe (basta maalala ko yung tama). Grabe, the clock is ticking.

12:00 nn. "San tayo kakain?" "Mister Kebab!" "Ang daming tao." "eh Jollibee?" "Ugh." "KFC?" "Na naman?" "Ngek sige na, McDo na nga." "Anung gusto nilang pagkain?" "Parang pwedeng mag-attendance dito." "Pakibuhusan ng gravy…"

1:00 pm. "Gurl balik lang ako dorm." "National muna kami."

2:00 pm. "Ang init sa labas!" "Inaantok ako." "Ako rin." "Low batt na ang mp ko!" "Eto na si Sir."

3:15 pm. "Bukas magsho-shorts ako, mainit." "Hindi muna ako magsho-shorts til after graduation." "May shoes ka na pala?"

4:00 pm. "Sana magbreak na…" "Patingin nga ng sked." "Anung pagkain nyo diyan?" "Uy Bread Pan!" "Eto may candy dito."

5:45 pm. "Gurl low batt na ko…" "Mass tayo!" "Uwi ka ba ngayon?" "Ayan dismissed na!"

7:00 pm. "SM tayo!" "Tsk tsk, katabi pala ng simbahan ang sakayan ng SM." Ay Sabado pala ngayon. The utter joy of window shopping. For two hours, I can pretend to be one with the human race. Hehehe.

10:30 pm. Magbabasa ako! Hindi ako matutulog hangga’t hindi ko natatapos ang Summons!

10:35 pm. Zzzzzzz…

At kinabukasan, ganito uli…good luck sa atin.

If Beda Law has trained its inmates for one enviable talent, I’d say it’s waiting. Waiting for news if I’d passed, waiting for enrollment, waiting for profs, waiting for grades…and now, waiting if I will finally be allowed to break free from my second home this past four years.

Judgment day is this Saturday, when deliberations take place and our masters seal our fates. For now, though, it takes me longer before I get to sleep, because when I close my eyes, I suddenly see my test booklets or the faces of my profs. Worse, I suddenly visualize the graduation march without…me! I know, it sounds pretty drama queen-ish. But to someone who’s slaved for four years without knowing for sure if she’s going to graduate or retake a whole year over again (di ba walang summer ang Beda), it’s the very embodiment of limbo. Or ultimately, hell.

I blame myself for cramming on an exam that will cost me added tuition, depression, and of course, my mother’s ministrations (Dapat nag-aaral ka! Wag na magchoir! Wag magsine!). I hate myself for not recognizing that the answer to one question was something I memorized by heart in second year. I feel stupid for reading those case doctrines but not finding out the reasons those doctrines were upheld.

Still I wait. While berating myself.

In the meantime, what’s a girl to do? Oh, there are church pilgrimages. I’ve just been to St. Clare (classmates, kasama kayo sa prayers ko, don’t worry) and I’m wondering if entering Quiapo church on my knees will give me the miracle I long for. I also text my prayer warriors, and my three priest friends. I pray to God like, well, all the time, stopping short of pestering Him with "If you let me graduate, I will never, never, gossip again…or maybe I’ll just exercise more."

A year ago, I called this the sweet life. Summer’s always been what I live for during the year…sleeping twenty-five hours a day, cleaning out the ref, devouring my pocketbooks, playing with my dogs, abusing the aircon, honing my talents(!) on the Magic Mic and re-bonding with my choirmates while pigging out. It’s nice to feel Friday and Saturday nights, and to savor afternoons without breaking into sweat or suddenly hyperventilating. But then I feel the impending doom of September…and it makes me cringe.

And yes, it’s excruciating to wait. If only this waiting brings good news with it, then I can laugh this all off in the next lifetime. But not before the Bar.

Anyone close to me will swear that I am an ultimate Big Brother fan. I followed the exploits of Uma, Cass, Jayson, Nene and company, and now I virtually run to my dorm from school to keep tabs on what Mich, Keanna, Zanjoe (oh Zanjoe!), Aleck and the others are doing. Is it because I like spying on people, or because I want to be an artista too? At first I don’t know, but it’s one guilty pleasure I don’t mind admitting.

But recently I realized why I can relate to this show - it’s kind of like how our (unidentified, baka ma-kick out pa ako) school works. The Big Brother show began with fourteen housemates who get voted out weekly. In law school, we started out with 14 sections, then dwindled to seven sections in second year, five in third year, and will only be two sections in the fourth year.  Big Brother tells his housemates what to do or they will be punished. We are told to study or else, we are humiliated when we don’t give decent answers in recitation, or worse, are failed in a subject. Big Brother imprisons his housemates for a hundred days, fifty-seven for the celebrity housemates. We are virtually imprisoned by law books (though not directly compelled, involuntary servitude na yun).

Still, there are differences…when the housemates leave the house, they are given prizes. With us, I don’t know what rewards await us when we are kicked out. Also, Big Brother (the voice akin to Charlie from a squawk box in Charlie’s Angels) reigns supreme. In law school, I don’t know who exactly gives us the orders…mostly it would be the profs who tell us what to do, and what we will read, eat and dream about for the next days or weeks, but it may be our parents, our friends, and of course, ourselves. Big Brother also fosters a causal relationship - you do this, I give you this. You rescued a stuffed toy from a tree, have P10,000 or a lifetime supply of detergent or something. With us, there are absolutely no explanations. Case in point: I study a topic with heart and soul and (hungry) stomach which the next day will be asked of my classmate, while I get asked on a topic I merely glanced at. Still, there are days when I know nothing but deliver a recitation worthy of a Nobel Prize (hmmm, kelan yun?). And we say goodbye to friends we know are more intellectually gifted than us. It’s sad.

This analogy helped me understand why my heart broke during the first eviction episodes although I kept thinking, hello, you already have careers and you will get out of that fishbowl existence. For us, though, we cannot even predict if we will graduate from this school we are almost ready to die for. I knew it was going to be difficult, but nobody told me (or my classmates) that we would sacrifice time, relationships, finances, sanity, and all else in between. Then one would ask, then why are you still in that big other house? Is it really for the sole pursuit of that ever elusive ATTORNEY to your name?

I don’t know, but I (and my schoolmates) still star in it five days a week, 4:30 to 9:30pm. Catch us while you can, baka next sem, ibang network na kami.

It was love at first sight, at least for me. How could I resist those inquisitive eyes and megawatt grin? When I met him years back, I knew he was different from all those who came before him.

And when he did come into my life, oh how he changed me. I became more patient, more generous, and more appreciative of the things I have in life. From the moment we committed to each other, all I wanted was to be with him, to run my fingers through his hair and simply be with him. We’d sometimes go out for long, leisurely walks in the summer sun. In the evenings, we’d sit side by side and learn the meaning of a moonrise.

He seldom says anything. But when I do something he doesn’t approve of, he gives me a look of reproach and stalks off (and I follow him to make amends). Still there are times when he knows I am unhappy or mad, and he’ll surprise me or just sit patiently until I am ready to confide in him.

How I miss him when school days come. I never seem to have enough time to spend with him, yet he doesn’t complain. When we do see each other, he’ll be the first to greet me, and it is as if we’ve never been separated a day in our lives. We eat together, share our stories and watch our favorite shows together.

He understands my dreams. He supports my activities. He’s absolutely perfect.

This is why I made this tribute to him, to let him know how much he means to me. But only recently, I mustered up the courage to tell him personally what I felt about him.

"I love you Hero," I told him.

He cocked his head to one side, wagged his tail, and flopped on the floor. Then he stretched his muzzle into a heart-warming canine grin. I patted his head and scratched his tummy as he rolled over.

I guess that means my dog loves me too.

p.s. Ronald, wag ka magtampo. Love din kita.

Ang hirap magtrabaho nang umuulan. All I wanna do is sleep, pig out, meet my friends, and read pocketbooks. Mag-e-SM sana pero ala allowance. Right now I’m digesting these &*^%$#@ labor cases and I feel like I’m going nowhere. Depressed ka na nga dahil schoolwork pa rin, depressing pa yung mga nababasa kong naterminate na mga trabahador. Ala naman kasing masayang kaso pala, e di sana nagsettle na ang mga ito.

At least fun fun fun nung Wednesday namin sa Tagaytay. Naka-catch up sa backlog na tsismis (somewhat), nalaman ng blockmates ko na buhay pa ako, at nakasakay ako ng funicular (though I almost died nung pababa siya…mas okay nung pataas). A law student learns to love cheap thrills - doing nothing, playing patintero in front of the Highlands employees, posing for the cam…in our case, mga hayop ang aming pinagtripan, este, pinuntahan. Thank you Ton for the trip and itinerary (kahit di nasunod ang sked, hehe). Sa uulitin po.

Until now I think my body is in denial that its mistress is taking a break despite the marathon digesting. Does this mean I’ve become so automated? I hope not. Am looking forward to tomorrow when I’ll finally see my choirmates. Sana makilala pa nila ako. Hehe.

It’s been two weeks, at halos isang LSS lang ang umiikot sa ulo ko ("umuwi ka na Baby…"). Hay, ang buhay law student. Ang lungkot pa mag-dorm, lalo na nung umalis ang roommate ko at naiwan akong walang kasama kundi ang apat na sulok ng kulay beige na walls at si Eeyore. Buti na lang may Angeli at Mau akong nakasama nung deepest darkest days of despair…e nakauwi na rin sila. How would you feel when everyone’s hauling their stuff at ni hindi ka pa nag-eexam? Miss ko na ang aso ko talaga.

Anyway, ngayong tapos na ang exams, tuloy ang ligaya at ang pagiging tunay kong tao. Matagal na akong absent sa bahay ni Kuya, so kakareerin ko yun. Maaasikaso ko na si loved one. Makaka-attend ng choir. Hahanapin ang MTVs ng favorite new songs ko, makikinig ng CDs. At mananalangin kay Lord na ipasa ako sa Tax.

Ano nga bang natutunan ko sa sem na ito? Marami-rami rin naman, kahit minsan feeling ko kalokohan ang buhay na ito. Sa Wills, na-realize kong dapat mag-family planning para mas madali hatiin ang estate ko pag namatay ako. Sa LIP, natutunan ko kung bakit ganun ang kulay ng bote ng beer. Sa Civ Pro, ang mga taktikang bubuhay sa akin pag pinagpala ako ni God na at least umabot sa moot court. At sa Labor…may alam naman ako sa Labor.

It’s the best of times, the worst of times (sa ‘A Tale of Two Cities’ ata yun). Kahit tinalo pa namin ang Star Circle Quest at Pinoy Big Brother sa tanggalan (ng students), fight pa rin. Kahit di na namin alam ang days of the week, ang kapalit ay subjects ("oy magkikita ba tayo sa Wills" "sige ibibigay ko sa yo sa Torts"). Kahit boarder na ako sa bahay kong nakikita ko twice a month. Kasi ang mga bagay na pinaghihirapan ay masarap makamtan. Naks. Makatulog na nga. I love you all.