Point A to Point B: This is the In-Between

AIESEC from a non-X POV. From My Baul of Unpublished Posts

After all these years, I think I’m one of the few who haven’t really talked much about what I’ve learned and how I’ve grown through AIESEC. I never really thought that I deserved to, since I was never on the executive board, nor was I ever what you would call a BS AIESEC student after my stint with the SEE-PBOX. I’ve always just been as normal as normal could come. There when I was called, gone when I wasn’t. I was usually called for parties. (Oh, what a surprise!)

I can go on to talk about how being an OCP or whatever helped me to learn to lead teams and stuff, but that sort of thing, I learned from football and class too. I want to talk about what I was never formally tasked to do but did anyway, except for PBOX… servicing.

When I was an applicant, our then LCP used to tell me that cultural integration is what sets our internship program apart from that of any other organization’s. He never really referred to it as servicing. I think its because the term servicing denotes that the “benefit” is one-sided. In truth, both sides benefit from cultural integration. We learn their culture first-hand, they learn ours. None of that travel guide, google-able information. Just plain learning from each others personalities and traits.

Cultural Integration is more than just giving them their survival guides and showing them around; and its definitely more than just your welcome/farewell dinners. Its about getting to know our exchange partners and helping them to understand what they don’t about our country. Its about showing them everything there is to see and letting them experience everything they can. Help them to feel at home away from home. Be a friend, not just a colleague.

I love our exchange program. I love meeting new people from every imaginable place.

Through AIESEC and our exchange program, I’ve come to meet some of the most amazing people, both local and international. Its not just about learning to look inwards and developing yourself for me; its also about learning to look beyond your own borders and exploring all the possibilities that this world has to offer.

Finally left the airport alone.

At 5:45 am of April 8, 2012, he grabbed me and gave me one last kiss, as he turned toward the terminal gate to make his way to his inevitable flight. There’s something about that last kiss. The lingering touch, the tight embrace; the whispering softly of the sweet promises of return. We couldn’t know for sure. That he would come back, that is. All we had left was that ever-present hope and wish that fate would treat us kindly.

It was October 30, 2011. I’d decided to forgo the traditional Halloween parties at the clubs, and opted to reply to a random invitation on a Facebook group to meet up in Katipunan for a few rounds of beer. It turned out to be a get-together for Japanese exchange students and interns from the different universities. I kind of felt out of place for a few moments; albeit the fact that I managed to force Jeff, a friend of mine, to accompany me.

A few surveying glances around the room, and I spotted this gigantic man with curly “dirty blonde” hair and (what a friend of mine soon called…) misty mint green eyes. He was sitting small group with the half-Jordanian guy, Rami, and a sweet little Japanese girl, Rie. He seemed to have a jolly demeanour. He was certainly fond of beer, as I noticed that he’d already had quite a few bottles of half-litre Red Horse beers.  He was certainly a very good-looking guy. But there seemed to be more to him.

There was something about him that drew me to him, so I simply followed my gut feeling and introduced myself to their little group. We talked about everything, from politics to religion, to getting drunk and making a riot at the recently concluded Surf, Arts, & Music Festival in Baler. The clincher, we discussed enthusiastically about the timeless classic, Pokemon. I couldn’t put my finger on it at the time, but I knew I wanted to be around this guy more and more. He was like a child raving about all these awesome cartoons and toys he used to play with; like that mature guy who’s well-read and up-to-date with the news around the world; and that all-around-fun guy who’s not afraid to wreak havoc at concerts and parties.

Little did I know that only a few short days later, on November 11, 2011 (11.11.11), we’d really end up together. And that need I felt to always be around him was met. We spent practically the entire day together, meeting up with my different groups of friends. From my college orgmates, to my best friends, to my friends who love to party too. We listened to music, played silly games, drank to our heart’s content, and danced the night away. That night, we had our first kiss. And well. Plenty thereafter. He was really good.

We hung out every day after that day. A few days later, we decided to officially become a couple. We couldn’t remember exactly when we first decided on it, so we declared that 11.11.11 would be the mark of the official start of our relationship. True enough, it really was.

We spent every moment that we could together. Before class, after class, before work, after work. I ended up living with him, because it just felt so natural. We would wake each other up for class and work, make breakfast together, and remind each other to take a shower. On my bad days, he would even wake up extra early and make up breakfast in bed for me. While I would surprise him when he got home from school with a neatly fixed room and a cute little note to cheer him up after a stressful day at school. We cooked together, cleaned together, went out with all of our friends together, and, well, we just plain had fun together. It was a great balance of work and play, with conversations as shallow as the things we would see on 9gag, or as stimulating as politics, philosophy, and development. We were really great complements for each other.

April 8, 2012. 10:12am. Five months, five out-of-town trips, countless parties and inuman sessions, five How I Met Your Mother seasons and two Big Bang Theory seasons, and a lot of family gatherings and crazy adventures later, here we are. Thousands of miles away from each other, just a few short hours since our last kiss, and at least a year before our next. Yet we remain hopeful that fate will treat us kindly and bring us back to where we know we both belong. Side by side. Waking up to every morning together.

Markus Schindler, ich liebe dich!

There comes a time in every person’s life when they, intentionally or not, stop to examine themselves and see what they’re become. This time came for me sooner than I expected. I must say though that it didn’t end up with a happy result. Therefore, this post is dedicated to the disappointment and regret that I feel for all my misinformed and/or misguided decisions in life.

When I set out to start my university life, fresh from the confines of the four-walled classrooms of high school, you would actually say that I was one of the most idealistic people you could find. Alas, years passed by and reality started to slowly creep its way even more into my consciousness. Apparently, things aren’t as simple as black and white like we’d imagined it while we dozed off daydreaming during our history, religion, or, in my case, all of our high school classes.

As it turns out, there are lot of different things to think about and getting the things we want is not as simple as getting an A in class and getting rewarded. I found out that competitions are not limited to sporting activities, as I was first led to believe.This was really an alien idea to me. Competition outside of sports? Outside of football? Huh? How can there be a competition when you’re not getting a medal and tons of praises in the end? I know its stupid, but yes. I thought like that.

Needless to say, I am still uncertain of so many things in my life because of this so-called competition. Suddenly, I’m not as special or as talented as I’d originally thought or been led to believe. There are evidently more people where I came from, experiencing far worse circumstances, or even better circumstances, who prove to be better choices than me.

Anyone with a basic knowledge of business will tell you that its not about how much better you are than your competition, its about differentiating yourself and finding your “unique selling proposition”, if you will. But what is mine?

I think and think and think, but seriously. I don’t even think I know myself enough to know what makes me unique. I’ve been so caught up up to this point trying to become what other people expect me to be, adapting to whomever I’m with, and trying as much as possible to please those around me. It was the everlasting quest for approval that I never got to realize.

So here I am, posting this blog. Not knowing what to do, or if I’m even actually fit to do anything at all. And so goes the result of my self-reflection. Nothing but annoyance at my own inadequacy.

In sync <3

Somewhere in Siquijor, on some random beach, sitting beside some campfire, eating some barbecued chicken, is the man that I’ve come to love. It hasn’t even been half of a week since we were together last, but it feels like its been such a long time. Its not a wonder. After all, we spend whatever moment we can together; given that we really have to make the most of our time. (two weeks and three days left)

So right now, he’s there. I’m here, lying on my couch, watching American Idol 11. For some reason, every song is a love song, and so, every song reminds me of him… Like the cheesy person that I feel like because of him.

Funny thing is that at the exact moment that I decided that I wanted to send him a message, just to tell him I miss him and all that jazz, I got a message from him telling me the exact same thing that I meant to text to him.

For some reason, we just work and fit so well together. Its like everything makes sense. I don’t know if this is how it really is when you’re in love, and anything I ever felt for anyone else was just a joke, but damn… It feels so damn good to feel this way.

Missis & Mistresses

Okay, so by traditional definition, they’re not really different; but let’s face it. In contemporary society, they are. Missis, or more commonly just spelled in its abbreviation form, Mrs., is what we would call a LEGALLY MARRIED wife. A mistress, on the other hand, would be what we call…well…a “kabit”, a woman on the side; who in my opinion, should stay on the side if she so wishes to exist as such. After all, that’s what she deserves. 

There is no excuse for violating the sanctity of marriage. Case closed.

http://www.abs-cbnnews.com/video/nation/01/28/12/grace-ibuna-avoids-word-war-vs-iggys-wife

Chemisty and Timing

Its amazing to me how applicable the “lessons” I learn from How I Met Your Mother are. It certainly hit me in the ass to watch that episode on the value of chemistry and timing a few days ago. Call it the return of a former flame that may not have completely died down… even over the span of over four years.

I never even imagined, not in a million years, that I’d ever encounter him again. But there he was… right in front of me. The chemistry was undeniably still there. But, alas, timing would prove to still not agree with us.

Maybe that’s just the way its really supposed to be. I’ve moved on in so many ways. Perhaps I’m really just supposed to keep moving on.

Oh, life! Please don’t let me grow to be an old maid. @_@

The Non-Maid of Honor Speech

Yesterday, my older sister, Paulina, got married to Nacho Mendezona. I wrote a maid of honor speech for Jessica, because she was having a hard time figuring out what to say. But I figured it wouldn’t be a nice idea to have her read my words, especially since its written in my perspective. I think yesterday was the first time I ever truly cried tears of joy, and, needless to say, I cried buckets and buckets of it. So this is what would have been my message for them.

—————-

Paulina is my ate. For my entire life, I was recognized as “the sister of Pauline”. Its not really much of a surprise. She was great at everything that she did, and she looked gorgeous as she did them. The straight honor student, soloist ballerina, pianist, football star. Yes, she did everything. Everything she had and did, to me, was the best of everything.

I wanted to be just like her. People saw it as a sibling rivalry, but, in truth, I was always just trying to measure up to her. Whether it was in academics, athletics, or just plain drinking. She made me want to be better, and she always did push me to become just that. Yes, we always argued (understatement of the year), because I wasn’t doing this and that the way I was supposed to.

I always wanted to be so like her, that anything that she would say, I believed. As a kid, she even cut off my bangs to just one inch. Take note. She didn’t cut off one inch, she cut it down to one inch. It looked ridiculous, but I still felt like it was the right thing. After all, she did it.

Fast forward to our ballerina years. Just a child in grade school, she was sent off to Subic to represent the country for an international ballet production. How many people can say that they did that? She was so young, and she went on her own. No need for a chaperone. She could handle it.

When we played football, if she wasn’t the best, she was definitely one of them. Amazing kick, intense speed, smart movement, and an intense amount of passion. She was Captain O.C. leading Miriam Football to what became the most successful years of the team.

I honestly don’t think I would have amounted to much in anything if it hadn’t been for you, Pauline. You both inspire and torment me. And no matter how much we fight over all the things in the world, I love you and I’m so grateful to have you as a sister.

I remember Pauline used to go to school in pajamas. Not caring about what other people thought of her appearance. Its UP, after all. You don’t have to care at all. That’s generally how she is actually. But as time passed by, my mom and I noticed that she began dressing up for school. Actually looking decent and well-kept for class in UP. As it turns out, Nacho was her classmate. Thank you, Nacho. For turning our sister back into a girl.

Nacho was always like a big brother to me. While my sister told me about all the perils of going to UP, Nacho always told me about how awesome it was to be there. Going off to college didn’t seem like such a scary thing anymore, for as long as I knew that Nacho would be there.

He makes my sister happy in so many ways. I remember the way they held each other during those first few month that they dated. One instance in particular. They were in one of the nipa huts at the field of the Marikina Sports Center during the World Cup football festival that Pauline organized herself. Today, when I look at them… even when they fight about so many things, they always seem to snap back into that couple in the nipa hut. No fail. I swear.

I was always there for all of my sister’s relationships. From all the teddy bears and random gifts that she would get from suitors from all over Metro Manila, to the Ateneo Football visits we made which were really just their excuse to meet up. Believe me, plenty of people wanted Pauline. I sold copies of her pictures for 300 pesos each, to boys and girls alike. They sold like pancakes.

Regardless of that, I can honestly say that Nacho is different from everyone else. He wasn’t flashy like the rest, he was simple. He was unbelievably patient, super fun to be with, and crazy sweet. The best part, he loved everything about Pauline. Even the stuff that we all find annoying.

They are soulmates. I once wrote in a blog, they are the couple that we aspire to be like. They give us hope that true love does still exist and that it is indeed possible to find that one perfect match to share our lives with.

My advice is for Nacho. Hug my sister as much as you can. Because aside from Baby Zac, you’re the only who ever gets to do that, and sometimes that all she really needs. A hug from you to help her calm down and feel safe again.

I love you both, and I wish you all the best.

Education

Does education in the Philippines fulfill the pursuit of knowledge and development? Does it continue to provide a vehicle by which our people can improve our nation?

Filipino heroes like Jose Rizal emphasize the importance of educating the youth, as they are the hope of the nation. True enough, this is a value that is imparted in a majority of the Filipinos who believe that educational attainment is the single most valuable asset that can be inherited by each generation from their parents.

However, due to lack of accessibility of “quality education”, most Filipinos are disheartened and fail to pursue their education, and instead take any means and opportunity to earn any form of living.

I personally believe that for any nation to be able to achieve any form of long-term solution to the poverty that is so absurdly rampant in our country, proper education of the masses is imperative. I do not mean the type that will teach them vocational courses so that they may become skilled individuals, but to impart unto them the same opportunity for a wider breadth of knowledge that, most usually, only the elite are afforded.

The trouble with Philippine education is that while the public school system does indeed exist, the quality of the education provided to the students is far less than that given to the privileged that can afford private schooling.

I want to emphasize here two important points: the disparity in the quality of education between private and public schools, and the ability of the great majority of the population to afford a quality education.

“To leave children in the care of the public school system, in the view of many parents today, is to automatically destroy their chances of entering a good university.” (When Parents Graduate, PDI, April 25, 1999)

Education is a right and a public good that the government should provide to its constituents. This is apparently not the case in the Philippines, where the government continually provides lackluster facilities and underpays its faculty and staff, and annually cuts down the budget allocated to education. It does this on the notion that the private sector should be the one to act to become the “movers of the nation”. This completely contradicts the role of the government in this matter and violates the right of the people who are far less privileged to have the opportunity to pursue an education of (at least) a considerable amount of quality.

Take the case of the University of the Philippines for example. Due to the high standards in order to be accepted into the university, few are accepted. Among those few, what percentage of the students would have come from a private school, and from a public school? Chances are that a majority of the students would have come from some private school (whether well-recognized or not), and the minority from some public school. Among that minority, a percentage of the accepted students will choose not to pursue their education in UP for the reason that they cannot afford the tuition (due to the increase in TOFI) and/or perhaps they cannot afford the living costs that come with pursuing a higher education.

Next, if and when students are able to afford the privilege of an education (whether at a premier university or not), are they being taught to be members of the labor force, or to be the future leaders of the country? Do they pursue their collegiate diploma with the ambition of greatness in contribution to society, or for the mere achievement of attaining a formal education and then only to settle for low-paying jobs or occupations abroad?

I have met plenty of individuals in the work field whom have graduated with degrees in engineering, computer science, political science, and criminology, to name a few, who currently work as housekeepers, and whose great ambition—after striving so hard to complete their education—is to become housekeepers aboard a cruise ship that will take them abroad. That’s it. They have worked hard. Their parents have worked hard. Only for them to settle to become the members of the “low” end of the labor force; not only that, but to become members of the labor force of an entirely different country and society. Great. This is what our education system is producing.

This poses an issue of empowerment among the masses. If and when they are able to complete their formal education, will they be empowered enough to pursue what they studied for? Or does their pursuit of knowledge and education stop after graduation? Are they left to foster an apathetic attitude towards our nation? Are they led to believe that they are capable of greatness, or are they kept to believe that they are destined to remain impoverished and marginalized?

I am a product of a private school education that has taught me that I am a capable agent of change. I am a product of a private school education that has equipped me with the necessary tools and MINDSET that have prepared me for the rigorous academic environment and training of the University of the Philippines. I know that I can contribute in the creation of nationhood in our country, but how many others are there like me whom are prepared to do the same thing?

Does the general education in the Philippines fulfill the pursuit of knowledge and development? Perhaps. Does it continue to provide a vehicle by which our people can improve our nation? Somewhat.

The government, from my perspective, does not seem to move remedy this. The government, from my perspective, seems to rely on public-private partnerships; or actually more on just private initiatives. Now, my question is: How does the government plan to rely on private initiatives, when the very same private sector that it relies on is the same private sector that seeks to keep its wealth intact and its (cheap) labor force in existence?

The reason why…

Over the past year, I’ve had some pretty bizarre romantic encounters, to say the least. From a short-lived whirlwind in the summer, to a bring-back-the-fire sort of thing, to month-long flings, to a two-date marriage proposal, and finally, to two marriage proposals through Facebook from complete strangers. I guess I could say that its been quite a crazy year for me in this aspect of my life. And people still often ask me why I’m still single. I’ll tell you why.

I’m not in pursuit of Mr. Right, nor of Mr. Right-Now. I don’t even think that the perfect man for me exists, as I can definitely say that I’ve dated men whom I’ve thought to be perfect, but turned out not so. Things usually just happen. Sparks fly and you just feel like you click. But then again, if you can’t feed the fire, sparks eventually just die down. I guess that’s what generally happens to me.

All I can say is that all I truly want is a partner in life. And not necessarily in a romantic sense. I want someone who’ll be a jock playing football, who’ll channel his inner artist when I want to go dancing at a club, or even at a studio for some hiphop. I want someone who’ll have both the humor of my funniest friends, and the ability to have good intellectual conversations. And finally, I want someone who’ll be game to go out on spontaneous adventures, but still would be perfectly happy to stay in watching an old movie and pigging out on junk food on a couch.

I’m still single because this partner hasn’t come along yet. ;)