With my long daily trips to and from the city, I can’t help but find something to occupy my mind while on the bus. I read a book (lately its Belva Plain’s), watch what’s on TV (no-brainer shows like Whammy), eavesdrop on conversations (like I can help it?) or sometimes pour my thoughts in my PDA. Sometimes, I look out the window and observe the passing scenery--- like tonight, the well-lighted boulevard thick with traffic and its towering buildings giving way to the dimmer, dustier roads of the coastal province of Cavite.
This evening, the bus I’m on is caught in traffic in Quirino St. There, standing on the narrow island splitting the narrow two-way road was once a huge acacia tree. Its ancient roots were protruding from the ground. Its trunk was cut probably a mishap from a typhoon. It would probably take three adults holding each other hands to encompass the huge trunk. What caught my eye is its mis-shapen and unusual figure. New branches have grown from the cut trunk. Instead of one main stem, it now has a number of them with smaller circumferences. And it is thriving in spite of the constricting enclosure of the island. Green, healthy leaves crown the stunted tree creating a natural umbrella. A big bonsai tree.
The tree is akin to a wounded man or someone physically handicapped or emotionally handicapped. Despite such setbacks, he is willing to live, grow and flourish. Although he has lost his original beauty, he embodies a new one founded on strength of character.
It is a representation of a life triumphant. A small big man.
Sunday, November 25, 2007
Wednesday, November 21, 2007
Steph
my hall of famer
I met Steph sometime in the 2nd semester of 1996 when I was applying for membership in the UP Computer Society. She’s chinita, 5’9” and athletically-built that it’s no wonder she’s always being slated to join the volleyball and basketball teams in our organization. She’s fiercely spirited and very vocal about her opinions but ‘neath the seemingly hard exterior, she’s a thoughtful and loyal friend.
It was in the late 1997 that we became friends thanks to my falling out with my bf and her falling out with her best friend. Needless to say, my bf and her best friend hooked up. So there we were, both miserable. At least we were miserable together and things got better soon. She’s a couple of years older than me and my friends but she fit in our group well. As a Computer Science major, she’d help us or at least entertain us while we slave over machine problems. Steph was a constant source of joy to my friends and I. She can always find something funny to talk about or relate an event for over an hour when the event only happened in 5 minutes. You always have this feeling that you were a 1st hand spectator after she finishes with her stories. You’d know the smallest detail yet you will never feel the least bit bored listening to her.
I remember one summer when I had to give her a ride everywhere because she hurt her leg from a volleyball (or basketball) game. She’d be sporting her new crutches and I’d be her faithful driver. Since she lives near my place, it wasn’t any hassle at all. One weekend, I picked her up because she wanted to binge out at McDonalds, S’mall. And binged we did. I ordered while she paid for all the food in the menu. I kid you not. We had one of everything and shared ‘em all.
We’d have shouting sessions in the car --- not the angry type. It was more of letting out the tension in your body by shouting in a closed car. I’d usually park the car in the main road of Loyola Grand Villas (our usual route home) where there are no houses. It was the late 90s and there weren’t that much houses yet in the posh village. Steph would shout first, and then I’d scream. It was liberating.
Even my Mom loved her. Steph endears herself to anyone, everyone. She was a constant guest in our house, watches TV in my parents’ room, plays with my brother on the playstation and would strike up conversations with my Nanay.
In February 10, 1998, Tuesday, I was wrapping things up at our tambayan. I have an exam the next day so I was hurrying home. It was 6 pm. Although my car’s plate number ended in 3 which means I can’t be seen in the streets before 7 pm (coding), lest the police catches me and gets my license, I decided to risk it. Steph still had a class to attend to till 7 pm and I couldn’t wait up for her. Since their teacher wasn’t in yet, she kept on coming back to the tambayan asking me to wait up for her. I pleaded and she said, “Sige na nga. Kanina pa ko paalam ng paalam, pero andito pa rin ako.” So I said my goodbye and headed home.
It was around 10 pm when Tintin, Steph’s friend called me up to tell me that Steph was involved in a holdup. She didn’t give me a lot of details --- only that she’s in the Amang Rodriguez Hospital near my home. So I asked my cousin, Allan and brother, Maynard to drive me to the hospital so we can check how Steph was doing. The hospital was filled with people and the reception personnel were busy. So, Maynard and I searched the entire place instead but we didn’t see Steph. We went back to the entrance and interviewed the guard and he told us that Steph got in DOA. I didn’t hear what else he said only that my friend is dead. Maynard got the details and Allan drove us to the funeraria. Allan checked the body and it was her. I didn’t want to look. I only wanted to remember Steph alive and happy.
Steph died due to a knife wound that pierced her heart. She tried fighting off the hold-upper who snatched her bracelet.
Steph heard all my lamentations about becoming an adult and handling relationships. We helped each other work out our troubles and came out of triumphant. After we both got over ourselves, we looked at our lives with positivity and made sure that we always have intelligent conversations. With her, it wasn’t just fun and games; it was also learning from a sister and understanding why she is that way. From the life she led, I learned how to be strong and how to cope with whatever life throws at you.
But I lost her that night. I lost my friend.
I only knew Steph roughly for 2 years but they were good 2 years filled with good times.
I met Steph sometime in the 2nd semester of 1996 when I was applying for membership in the UP Computer Society. She’s chinita, 5’9” and athletically-built that it’s no wonder she’s always being slated to join the volleyball and basketball teams in our organization. She’s fiercely spirited and very vocal about her opinions but ‘neath the seemingly hard exterior, she’s a thoughtful and loyal friend.
It was in the late 1997 that we became friends thanks to my falling out with my bf and her falling out with her best friend. Needless to say, my bf and her best friend hooked up. So there we were, both miserable. At least we were miserable together and things got better soon. She’s a couple of years older than me and my friends but she fit in our group well. As a Computer Science major, she’d help us or at least entertain us while we slave over machine problems. Steph was a constant source of joy to my friends and I. She can always find something funny to talk about or relate an event for over an hour when the event only happened in 5 minutes. You always have this feeling that you were a 1st hand spectator after she finishes with her stories. You’d know the smallest detail yet you will never feel the least bit bored listening to her.
I remember one summer when I had to give her a ride everywhere because she hurt her leg from a volleyball (or basketball) game. She’d be sporting her new crutches and I’d be her faithful driver. Since she lives near my place, it wasn’t any hassle at all. One weekend, I picked her up because she wanted to binge out at McDonalds, S’mall. And binged we did. I ordered while she paid for all the food in the menu. I kid you not. We had one of everything and shared ‘em all.
We’d have shouting sessions in the car --- not the angry type. It was more of letting out the tension in your body by shouting in a closed car. I’d usually park the car in the main road of Loyola Grand Villas (our usual route home) where there are no houses. It was the late 90s and there weren’t that much houses yet in the posh village. Steph would shout first, and then I’d scream. It was liberating.
Even my Mom loved her. Steph endears herself to anyone, everyone. She was a constant guest in our house, watches TV in my parents’ room, plays with my brother on the playstation and would strike up conversations with my Nanay.
In February 10, 1998, Tuesday, I was wrapping things up at our tambayan. I have an exam the next day so I was hurrying home. It was 6 pm. Although my car’s plate number ended in 3 which means I can’t be seen in the streets before 7 pm (coding), lest the police catches me and gets my license, I decided to risk it. Steph still had a class to attend to till 7 pm and I couldn’t wait up for her. Since their teacher wasn’t in yet, she kept on coming back to the tambayan asking me to wait up for her. I pleaded and she said, “Sige na nga. Kanina pa ko paalam ng paalam, pero andito pa rin ako.” So I said my goodbye and headed home.
It was around 10 pm when Tintin, Steph’s friend called me up to tell me that Steph was involved in a holdup. She didn’t give me a lot of details --- only that she’s in the Amang Rodriguez Hospital near my home. So I asked my cousin, Allan and brother, Maynard to drive me to the hospital so we can check how Steph was doing. The hospital was filled with people and the reception personnel were busy. So, Maynard and I searched the entire place instead but we didn’t see Steph. We went back to the entrance and interviewed the guard and he told us that Steph got in DOA. I didn’t hear what else he said only that my friend is dead. Maynard got the details and Allan drove us to the funeraria. Allan checked the body and it was her. I didn’t want to look. I only wanted to remember Steph alive and happy.
Steph died due to a knife wound that pierced her heart. She tried fighting off the hold-upper who snatched her bracelet.
Steph heard all my lamentations about becoming an adult and handling relationships. We helped each other work out our troubles and came out of triumphant. After we both got over ourselves, we looked at our lives with positivity and made sure that we always have intelligent conversations. With her, it wasn’t just fun and games; it was also learning from a sister and understanding why she is that way. From the life she led, I learned how to be strong and how to cope with whatever life throws at you.
But I lost her that night. I lost my friend.
I only knew Steph roughly for 2 years but they were good 2 years filled with good times.
Thursday, November 15, 2007
Enter Sandman
As a child, I find it difficult to will myself to sleep. If I’m not sleepy and it’s bed time, I’ll spend a couple of hours on my back, alternating counting sheeps and creating stories in my mind to tire myself out and finally catch the attention of the elusive Sandman. Or I’d grab my all-time favorite snorefest classic, HG Wells’ Silas Marner. That my friend will surely put me to lala land in a deep coma!
I am an avid reader and I stay up late at night till the fringes of dawn start peeking through my window, just reading books. But my brain just has to draw the line when it comes to Silas Marner. It’s a fairly short book but I never get past page 4 without rereading form the beginning. I get lost in the detailed narrative and imagery that I completely get sidetracked putting two and two together and before I know it, I don’t know what the plot is all about.
I digress. Here I am again with my overactive mind and its way past midnight. Writing it down may help cure me from this insomnia. Maybe, thinking of the words to express my frustration in catching zs will help me summon sleep. When I laid my head on my pillow earlier, I automatically uttered my childhood prayer, “Dear God, help me sleep now so I can wake up early tomorrow.” As soon as I whispered this prayer, I knew sleep will be hard to come by.
I thought to myself what about tomorrow that is so important that I need to get rest now? What was tomorrow like for me when I was a kid? What did I look forward to? All I could remember then was school, tests, and more tests. Now, I know tomorrow will bring office, work, and more work. Life was so much simpler then. And although to my young mind, school was work too…at least it came with the knowledge that there are summer breaks and games and friends bundled in THE package.
As I shut my eyes tonight, I hope God will grant me a restful sleep to make up for all the youthful joy I had to exchange for becoming an adult.
I am an avid reader and I stay up late at night till the fringes of dawn start peeking through my window, just reading books. But my brain just has to draw the line when it comes to Silas Marner. It’s a fairly short book but I never get past page 4 without rereading form the beginning. I get lost in the detailed narrative and imagery that I completely get sidetracked putting two and two together and before I know it, I don’t know what the plot is all about.
I digress. Here I am again with my overactive mind and its way past midnight. Writing it down may help cure me from this insomnia. Maybe, thinking of the words to express my frustration in catching zs will help me summon sleep. When I laid my head on my pillow earlier, I automatically uttered my childhood prayer, “Dear God, help me sleep now so I can wake up early tomorrow.” As soon as I whispered this prayer, I knew sleep will be hard to come by.
I thought to myself what about tomorrow that is so important that I need to get rest now? What was tomorrow like for me when I was a kid? What did I look forward to? All I could remember then was school, tests, and more tests. Now, I know tomorrow will bring office, work, and more work. Life was so much simpler then. And although to my young mind, school was work too…at least it came with the knowledge that there are summer breaks and games and friends bundled in THE package.
As I shut my eyes tonight, I hope God will grant me a restful sleep to make up for all the youthful joy I had to exchange for becoming an adult.
Friday, November 9, 2007
Gerry Chua
Masigasig behind the scenes
I get awestruck when I meet successful people. After every encounter, I get charged up, raring to take on the world and hopefully be successful myself. Thanks to my stint with Masigasig, I met some interesting people who shared inspiring stories. So far, I have managed to get to the revved up part. The part where I have to release the brakes and let the career car accelerate has not happened yet. I just really, truly hope that I find the courage to put down the handbrake and just let it roll.
My last interview for the year was with Gerry Chua, the famous hopia maker, the brains behind the much copied hopia ube, and the owner of Eng Bee Tin. Who would have thought that this man had to go through so many trials before finally, making Eng Bee Tin a household name?
I sneaked out of the office during the lunch hours to meet up with Gerry. The Masigasig team met up at the Café Mezzanine. The café decorated with firemen hats, paraphernalia and articles on fire mishaps, is the Binondo Fire Volunteers hang out. It’s also one of Gerry’s business ventures with the revenues going into his passion --- to the fire volunteers of his community. Acky, the photographer, was busy cleaning his camera lens while eating brunch. Jen, our make up artist, came in full body armor with 2 huge bags of make up kits. Sunshine and Mems our Summit Media connection, came in last and had brunch while we wait for Gerry.
First Impressions
Dressed in his ube-colored fire volunteer shirt, Gerry stepped into the café and greeted most of the customers, who he knew mostly by name. You can’t miss him. He was elected Barangay Chairman in Binondo the day before and was exchanging thanks with the people around. He had this relaxed air around him.
After chatting with his customers and his crew, he sat down with Jen for his makeup session. Jen put on her wonderbelt filled with brushes and laid on the table every make up imaginable. All throughout the session, Gerry would be talking to other customers near him. It was a wonder how Jen was able to spruce him up with all the gab going around. Changing into his ube-colored polo shirt, Gerry was ready for his photo shoot. He was so happy with his look that he asked for Jen’s calling card.
One of the early customers that day was his teacher in grade school, San Lorenzo Ruiz, which was just right across the café. His teacher couldn’t help but smile as Gerry recounted the story that he used to come to school with nothing because of poverty. Raising his hand, he swore that it was his teacher who used to give him pencils so that he can do his school work, “Di ako sinungaling, nagsasabi ako ng totoo. Siya nagbibigay ng pencil sa kin.” He’d add, “tingnan niyo teacher ko, mas mukhang matanda na ko sa kanya.” We all laughed. This guy was something else. Honestly, I really thought we’d be meeting a starched up, stiff businessman, but here was Mr. Gerry Chua, all smiles with a humor of a kid.
The Shoot
While Gerry was being made up, Mems, the art director was collaborating with Acky on the food styling. One of the crew brought us all the flavors of Eng Bee Tin hopia: ube, monggo, baboy, ube-pastillas, ube-langka, ube-queso, and ube monggo lite. I loved the shots they took! Masigasig December is gonna be something else! It’s the last of the series but we’re gonna go out with a bang!
Next in our things to do is the photo shoot of Gerry with his products. We all trooped down the café and into Chuan Kee restaurant --- yet another of Gerry’s handed down to him by his ninong who he helped nurse back to health after a bout of bone pneumonia in the 80s. He even had to close down his stores then to fully devote his time to helping out his ninong. Gerry helped bring down Jen’s bags and handed her a box of hopia goodies. Jen said her goodbyes and was off to another shoot in Sofitel.
From Chuan Kee, we walked a few meters to 628 Ongpin St., where Eng Bee Tin began and still is the center of operations. In all the outlets I’ve visited in the vicinity, this was by far their busiest. There never seem to be a lull in the number of people lined up at the cashier. The shelves are stocked to the brim with hopia and other Chinese delicacies. In between shoots, Gerry would be welcoming his customers and shouting instructions to his staff. The kids around even knew Gerry and would be tugging at Acky’s shirt to see the shots he has taken. It was a delight too when Gerry’s second son (who was as tall as him) went by and had a few shots taken with him. Whaddya know? He’s a dad too.
Story Telling
Gerry wanted to promote his Mr. Ube Rice and Noodle House just up the street of Ongpin. As we ambled to the diner, Gerry explained that the first PhP4.5M revenue from the year-old business (it opened in October 23, 2006 in celebration of his wife’s birthday) will be used to purchase an ambulance for the community. Wow.
Since I’ve been working in Binondo since August, I’ve visited Mr. Ube twice. The food is excellent and the noodles taste like it’s homemade. And we found out why. Gerry told us the story of an 80 year old Japanese guy who he met in Japan in one of his hopia-maker and packaging machine-hunting trips. With his friend, Mr. Yoshida, they ate at the old man’s noodle house in one of their stopovers. The old man enjoyed their conversation and found it interesting that Gerry is a firefighter. Gerry, at age 16, started volunteering as a firefighter. In jest, Gerry told the old man that if he ever decides to visit the Philippines, he’d give the man a tour of the city plus accommodations. Little did he know that the old man will take his offer to heart.
A couple of weeks after they got back from Japan, they gave the old man a tour of Manila. Grateful for Gerry’s hospitality, the old man sent him a noodle maker machine complete with instruction set and noodle recipes. And thus, Mr. Ube was born.
It was lunch time when we reached Mr. Ube so we ordered Maki Mi, Mr. Ube noodle, and dimsum. Throughout the meal, Gerry entertained us with his story.
He started by saying that when he took hold of the business at 21 years old, Eng Bee Tin was bankrupt. Gerry, being the eldest, had to find funds to finance the checks they’re paying their suppliers. He knew if the money don’t get to the bank by noon, word will spread like wildfire in the streets of Binondo and their suppliers would not deliver their supplies. The manager of the bank where Eng Bee Tin has an account saw how hard Gerry worked and did his best to meet the deadline. And so she, gave Gerry a leeway of 2 hours for which Gerry was grateful. It gave him additional time to look for money and for the store to sell its products.
One fateful day though, the manager was out and the assistant refused Gerry’s late payment. It was 2 pm. Gerry was unable to persuade the assistant to accept his money and like a scene from a telenovela, he cried in the bank.
But who’s laughing now? Eng Bee Tin has grown and even exports its products globally. He has a factory at Paco, Manila, 90 employees, 9 outlets and 70 dealers nationwide. His hopia ube was key to his success coupled with Cory Quirino’s feature of Eng Bee Tin in the late 80s.
He said though that it was through fire volunteering that really made him who he is now. If it hadn’t been for the CityLine episode on Binondo where he helped give Cory Quirino and her crew a tour of their firefighting facilities, he wouldn’t have known the host. He is forever indebted to Cory he says. That’s why now, he devotes most of his time to the fire volunteer efforts. He donated fire trucks and even started the TXT-FIRE program.
By the time, he finished his story it was almost 1:30 pm. And we were unable to eat all the food he ordered. I had to get back to the office. LOL. For the full story on Eng Bee Tin, I guess we’d have to wait for the Masigasig December issue.
Acky, Mems, Shine and I left altogether with loads of kwento, photos and a boxful of hopia each. Not bad for our last interview of the year.
I get awestruck when I meet successful people. After every encounter, I get charged up, raring to take on the world and hopefully be successful myself. Thanks to my stint with Masigasig, I met some interesting people who shared inspiring stories. So far, I have managed to get to the revved up part. The part where I have to release the brakes and let the career car accelerate has not happened yet. I just really, truly hope that I find the courage to put down the handbrake and just let it roll.
My last interview for the year was with Gerry Chua, the famous hopia maker, the brains behind the much copied hopia ube, and the owner of Eng Bee Tin. Who would have thought that this man had to go through so many trials before finally, making Eng Bee Tin a household name?
I sneaked out of the office during the lunch hours to meet up with Gerry. The Masigasig team met up at the Café Mezzanine. The café decorated with firemen hats, paraphernalia and articles on fire mishaps, is the Binondo Fire Volunteers hang out. It’s also one of Gerry’s business ventures with the revenues going into his passion --- to the fire volunteers of his community. Acky, the photographer, was busy cleaning his camera lens while eating brunch. Jen, our make up artist, came in full body armor with 2 huge bags of make up kits. Sunshine and Mems our Summit Media connection, came in last and had brunch while we wait for Gerry.
First Impressions
Dressed in his ube-colored fire volunteer shirt, Gerry stepped into the café and greeted most of the customers, who he knew mostly by name. You can’t miss him. He was elected Barangay Chairman in Binondo the day before and was exchanging thanks with the people around. He had this relaxed air around him.
After chatting with his customers and his crew, he sat down with Jen for his makeup session. Jen put on her wonderbelt filled with brushes and laid on the table every make up imaginable. All throughout the session, Gerry would be talking to other customers near him. It was a wonder how Jen was able to spruce him up with all the gab going around. Changing into his ube-colored polo shirt, Gerry was ready for his photo shoot. He was so happy with his look that he asked for Jen’s calling card.
One of the early customers that day was his teacher in grade school, San Lorenzo Ruiz, which was just right across the café. His teacher couldn’t help but smile as Gerry recounted the story that he used to come to school with nothing because of poverty. Raising his hand, he swore that it was his teacher who used to give him pencils so that he can do his school work, “Di ako sinungaling, nagsasabi ako ng totoo. Siya nagbibigay ng pencil sa kin.” He’d add, “tingnan niyo teacher ko, mas mukhang matanda na ko sa kanya.” We all laughed. This guy was something else. Honestly, I really thought we’d be meeting a starched up, stiff businessman, but here was Mr. Gerry Chua, all smiles with a humor of a kid.
The Shoot
While Gerry was being made up, Mems, the art director was collaborating with Acky on the food styling. One of the crew brought us all the flavors of Eng Bee Tin hopia: ube, monggo, baboy, ube-pastillas, ube-langka, ube-queso, and ube monggo lite. I loved the shots they took! Masigasig December is gonna be something else! It’s the last of the series but we’re gonna go out with a bang!
Next in our things to do is the photo shoot of Gerry with his products. We all trooped down the café and into Chuan Kee restaurant --- yet another of Gerry’s handed down to him by his ninong who he helped nurse back to health after a bout of bone pneumonia in the 80s. He even had to close down his stores then to fully devote his time to helping out his ninong. Gerry helped bring down Jen’s bags and handed her a box of hopia goodies. Jen said her goodbyes and was off to another shoot in Sofitel.
From Chuan Kee, we walked a few meters to 628 Ongpin St., where Eng Bee Tin began and still is the center of operations. In all the outlets I’ve visited in the vicinity, this was by far their busiest. There never seem to be a lull in the number of people lined up at the cashier. The shelves are stocked to the brim with hopia and other Chinese delicacies. In between shoots, Gerry would be welcoming his customers and shouting instructions to his staff. The kids around even knew Gerry and would be tugging at Acky’s shirt to see the shots he has taken. It was a delight too when Gerry’s second son (who was as tall as him) went by and had a few shots taken with him. Whaddya know? He’s a dad too.
Story Telling
Gerry wanted to promote his Mr. Ube Rice and Noodle House just up the street of Ongpin. As we ambled to the diner, Gerry explained that the first PhP4.5M revenue from the year-old business (it opened in October 23, 2006 in celebration of his wife’s birthday) will be used to purchase an ambulance for the community. Wow.
Since I’ve been working in Binondo since August, I’ve visited Mr. Ube twice. The food is excellent and the noodles taste like it’s homemade. And we found out why. Gerry told us the story of an 80 year old Japanese guy who he met in Japan in one of his hopia-maker and packaging machine-hunting trips. With his friend, Mr. Yoshida, they ate at the old man’s noodle house in one of their stopovers. The old man enjoyed their conversation and found it interesting that Gerry is a firefighter. Gerry, at age 16, started volunteering as a firefighter. In jest, Gerry told the old man that if he ever decides to visit the Philippines, he’d give the man a tour of the city plus accommodations. Little did he know that the old man will take his offer to heart.
A couple of weeks after they got back from Japan, they gave the old man a tour of Manila. Grateful for Gerry’s hospitality, the old man sent him a noodle maker machine complete with instruction set and noodle recipes. And thus, Mr. Ube was born.
It was lunch time when we reached Mr. Ube so we ordered Maki Mi, Mr. Ube noodle, and dimsum. Throughout the meal, Gerry entertained us with his story.
He started by saying that when he took hold of the business at 21 years old, Eng Bee Tin was bankrupt. Gerry, being the eldest, had to find funds to finance the checks they’re paying their suppliers. He knew if the money don’t get to the bank by noon, word will spread like wildfire in the streets of Binondo and their suppliers would not deliver their supplies. The manager of the bank where Eng Bee Tin has an account saw how hard Gerry worked and did his best to meet the deadline. And so she, gave Gerry a leeway of 2 hours for which Gerry was grateful. It gave him additional time to look for money and for the store to sell its products.
One fateful day though, the manager was out and the assistant refused Gerry’s late payment. It was 2 pm. Gerry was unable to persuade the assistant to accept his money and like a scene from a telenovela, he cried in the bank.
But who’s laughing now? Eng Bee Tin has grown and even exports its products globally. He has a factory at Paco, Manila, 90 employees, 9 outlets and 70 dealers nationwide. His hopia ube was key to his success coupled with Cory Quirino’s feature of Eng Bee Tin in the late 80s.
He said though that it was through fire volunteering that really made him who he is now. If it hadn’t been for the CityLine episode on Binondo where he helped give Cory Quirino and her crew a tour of their firefighting facilities, he wouldn’t have known the host. He is forever indebted to Cory he says. That’s why now, he devotes most of his time to the fire volunteer efforts. He donated fire trucks and even started the TXT-FIRE program.
By the time, he finished his story it was almost 1:30 pm. And we were unable to eat all the food he ordered. I had to get back to the office. LOL. For the full story on Eng Bee Tin, I guess we’d have to wait for the Masigasig December issue.
Acky, Mems, Shine and I left altogether with loads of kwento, photos and a boxful of hopia each. Not bad for our last interview of the year.
Thursday, November 8, 2007
Marby
my hall of famer
It is said that opposites attract or at least you tend to gravitate towards people who would complement your personality. One such gal who I was lucky to have met is Marby --- my total opposite. Whilst I would be content to be a wallflower, Marby would be in the limelight without lifting a finger. Her sunny disposition, her 500 words per minute and quirks puts her on centerstage effortlessly. She is by no means a person who hogs attention, but rather it’ll be hard not to notice her with her humor and infectious laugh. Her antics seem to be out of place but en point. Did I tell you that she can make you laugh out loud? Oh God. She can. She is a breath of fresh air.
When I met Marby, she was 24 going on 25 in a pharmaceutical company where we both used to work. I think I felt at home with her when I found out that her birthday is the same as my HS bestfriend’s. But then again, it’ll be hard to resist her charm. Being the youngest in our team, you’d think she’d shy away from everyone but heck no. Before you know it, she has taken hold of the whole department and given it a face lift. No more quiet work hours. Instead, we’d have this ongoing discussion on company gossips WHILE working (I promise!). No more senseless lunch breaks. Instead, we’d have meaningful conversations on whether Bea Alonzo turned down John Lloyd’s proclamation of love in the popular telenovela. No more happy birthday greetings through email. Instead, we’d have this super birthday surprise for each of the guys in the department, complete with banderitas --- leaving the likes of Mamsy teary-eyed with the gifts, food and bouquet she received. Mamsy, the guru in the department (because she has been with the company when I was still in my mom’s womb), plain existence was no more. She’d go out on gimmicks with us younger kids and do sleep overs --- which is very un-adult-like. That is all through Marby’s bag of magic tricks!
Marby did not waste her talents in our department alone. She is the most sought-after key person for any company event. Whether it’d be hosting, singing, cheering or planning, she is the IT girl. I don’t remember any event where she wasn’t in the sidelines waiting for her turn onstage. Even without a script, she can segue her way into any program.
When she turned a quarter of a century, it was a big event for Marby. And she threw the birthday event of the year! At least, in my book, it was the best party I have ever been to in this lifetime. What better way to celebrate your birthday but in the country’s favorite kiddie place, Jollibee. Oh yes. At age 25, Marby held her coming out party (haha!) at Jollibee SM North. We dined on spaghetti, chickenjoy and rocky road sundae! There were parlor games and a huge Hello Kitty birthday cake. And she really went all out on this with her special guest, no less than, the big bee, Jollibee himself! It was so freakishly hilarious but darn it! It was the best ever!
Fast forward to her 26th birthday, this was an immense contrast to her 25th celebration. It was held at the more reserved and laid back, Jade Valley. But as usual, her funny self shone through. Friends came up, gave testimonies and shared their most memorable stories about Marby.
For someone who has been a constant source of joy for her friends and family, it was tragic to hear the news of her dad’s sudden death just recently. Marby is daddy’s little girl. With her mom away overseas, she, being the eldest of 3, had to carry the full weight of her father’s death. She had to go through the motions of arranging everything for the burial. She put on a brave face throughout the whole ordeal and triumphantly came out of it as a better person.
I miss her most these days when it’s too quiet in the new office I’m in now. For Marby, even at the most trying times, she never fails to find something to talk about, laugh about, and smile about. I always tell her that she is a breath of fresh air coz she really is to me.
These days, she exchanged office work to manage the business her dad entrusted to her and her brothers. Though I’m a bit sad that she suddenly had to grow up and leave the team she loves, I know she is better off where she is at now. I’m sure she’s happy and at peace with her decision. And with this knowledge, I know she can laugh and smile without a heavy heart and would continue to bring joy to all of us.
It is said that opposites attract or at least you tend to gravitate towards people who would complement your personality. One such gal who I was lucky to have met is Marby --- my total opposite. Whilst I would be content to be a wallflower, Marby would be in the limelight without lifting a finger. Her sunny disposition, her 500 words per minute and quirks puts her on centerstage effortlessly. She is by no means a person who hogs attention, but rather it’ll be hard not to notice her with her humor and infectious laugh. Her antics seem to be out of place but en point. Did I tell you that she can make you laugh out loud? Oh God. She can. She is a breath of fresh air.
When I met Marby, she was 24 going on 25 in a pharmaceutical company where we both used to work. I think I felt at home with her when I found out that her birthday is the same as my HS bestfriend’s. But then again, it’ll be hard to resist her charm. Being the youngest in our team, you’d think she’d shy away from everyone but heck no. Before you know it, she has taken hold of the whole department and given it a face lift. No more quiet work hours. Instead, we’d have this ongoing discussion on company gossips WHILE working (I promise!). No more senseless lunch breaks. Instead, we’d have meaningful conversations on whether Bea Alonzo turned down John Lloyd’s proclamation of love in the popular telenovela. No more happy birthday greetings through email. Instead, we’d have this super birthday surprise for each of the guys in the department, complete with banderitas --- leaving the likes of Mamsy teary-eyed with the gifts, food and bouquet she received. Mamsy, the guru in the department (because she has been with the company when I was still in my mom’s womb), plain existence was no more. She’d go out on gimmicks with us younger kids and do sleep overs --- which is very un-adult-like. That is all through Marby’s bag of magic tricks!
Marby did not waste her talents in our department alone. She is the most sought-after key person for any company event. Whether it’d be hosting, singing, cheering or planning, she is the IT girl. I don’t remember any event where she wasn’t in the sidelines waiting for her turn onstage. Even without a script, she can segue her way into any program.
When she turned a quarter of a century, it was a big event for Marby. And she threw the birthday event of the year! At least, in my book, it was the best party I have ever been to in this lifetime. What better way to celebrate your birthday but in the country’s favorite kiddie place, Jollibee. Oh yes. At age 25, Marby held her coming out party (haha!) at Jollibee SM North. We dined on spaghetti, chickenjoy and rocky road sundae! There were parlor games and a huge Hello Kitty birthday cake. And she really went all out on this with her special guest, no less than, the big bee, Jollibee himself! It was so freakishly hilarious but darn it! It was the best ever!
Fast forward to her 26th birthday, this was an immense contrast to her 25th celebration. It was held at the more reserved and laid back, Jade Valley. But as usual, her funny self shone through. Friends came up, gave testimonies and shared their most memorable stories about Marby.
For someone who has been a constant source of joy for her friends and family, it was tragic to hear the news of her dad’s sudden death just recently. Marby is daddy’s little girl. With her mom away overseas, she, being the eldest of 3, had to carry the full weight of her father’s death. She had to go through the motions of arranging everything for the burial. She put on a brave face throughout the whole ordeal and triumphantly came out of it as a better person.
I miss her most these days when it’s too quiet in the new office I’m in now. For Marby, even at the most trying times, she never fails to find something to talk about, laugh about, and smile about. I always tell her that she is a breath of fresh air coz she really is to me.
These days, she exchanged office work to manage the business her dad entrusted to her and her brothers. Though I’m a bit sad that she suddenly had to grow up and leave the team she loves, I know she is better off where she is at now. I’m sure she’s happy and at peace with her decision. And with this knowledge, I know she can laugh and smile without a heavy heart and would continue to bring joy to all of us.
“I want to ride my bicycle. I want to ride my bike…”
I’m sure Queens was not referring to the mountain-type bike or the old-BMX type of bicycle in their song. But this song might as well be the background music when my neighborhood friends and I were on our bike+sidecar escapades back in the late 80s.
The shiny red sidecar was a gift from Santa Claus one Christmas (I forget when). Well, at least we thought it was Santa and my sibs and I don’t really care who gave it to us. As far as we’re concerned, it was going to bring us to places.
And it did. We took it for a test run and found the brakes almost non-existent. That was terrible especially in our village with all its hilly portions. It was bound to break one of our necks. Not to be deterred by this one setback, the eldest in our group, Mark and his brother Allan, came up with something ingenious! They took an old Spartan slipper --- the original Havaianas flip flops and hooked it up to one of the bars near the wheel of the sidecar. Voila! Our very own emergency break! And I tell you, that old slipper saved our lives from a lot of catastrophes that year! I can still hear one of my friends yelling from the top of her lungs, “Emergency breaaaaaaaaaaaak!!!” while we wildly careen over the steep streets in our village. Mark would be the one driving the bike with 7 or 8 kids crammed into the sidecar. And usually, it’ll be Allan who’d be pressing the makeshift emergency break over the tire. He’d get burns from the friction but hey, we were young and wild and it was all fun!
I remember one time when it was just us 4 girls roaming around with the bike. Katrina, the eldest girl would be the designated driver while Jerlyn and Mia would be seated up front and I at the back cushioned with a huge throw pillow we got from Mommy’s living room. Since it was always Mark who’d drive us around, we girls, weren’t as adept with the idiosyncrasies of driving a sidecar. The 3rd wheel has this quirk of rolling off to a different direction from the main bike. So that spelled trouble for us. Our fear was founded when we were riding through our steep street and both the regular and emergency brakes didn’t work. Katrina didn’t know what to do and hit the gutter, causing us to fly off the bike into different directions. I hit the ground the hardest since the bike flipped over and I was at the back. My left hand took the full weight of my fall and needless to say, I couldn’t write with my hand (yup am a leftie) for 2 weeks. So there I was lying flat on my back taking a quick inventory of my working body parts. Luckily, nothing was broken. I didn’t know what happened to the other girls. We all scampered into different directions. I went home, got the scolding from my Nanay that was sure to stop me from biking ever again as long as I lived in our house before putting bandages around my fingers and my knees.
The next day, we were at it again. In spite of the scrapes, burns, and wounds we wasted no time after school or the summer getting on the now worn, bruised, red bike. It was our red Ferrari.
Until, one summer afternoon, I stepped out of our front door and found our gate wide open with the bike missing. And that ended biking season.
The shiny red sidecar was a gift from Santa Claus one Christmas (I forget when). Well, at least we thought it was Santa and my sibs and I don’t really care who gave it to us. As far as we’re concerned, it was going to bring us to places.
And it did. We took it for a test run and found the brakes almost non-existent. That was terrible especially in our village with all its hilly portions. It was bound to break one of our necks. Not to be deterred by this one setback, the eldest in our group, Mark and his brother Allan, came up with something ingenious! They took an old Spartan slipper --- the original Havaianas flip flops and hooked it up to one of the bars near the wheel of the sidecar. Voila! Our very own emergency break! And I tell you, that old slipper saved our lives from a lot of catastrophes that year! I can still hear one of my friends yelling from the top of her lungs, “Emergency breaaaaaaaaaaaak!!!” while we wildly careen over the steep streets in our village. Mark would be the one driving the bike with 7 or 8 kids crammed into the sidecar. And usually, it’ll be Allan who’d be pressing the makeshift emergency break over the tire. He’d get burns from the friction but hey, we were young and wild and it was all fun!
I remember one time when it was just us 4 girls roaming around with the bike. Katrina, the eldest girl would be the designated driver while Jerlyn and Mia would be seated up front and I at the back cushioned with a huge throw pillow we got from Mommy’s living room. Since it was always Mark who’d drive us around, we girls, weren’t as adept with the idiosyncrasies of driving a sidecar. The 3rd wheel has this quirk of rolling off to a different direction from the main bike. So that spelled trouble for us. Our fear was founded when we were riding through our steep street and both the regular and emergency brakes didn’t work. Katrina didn’t know what to do and hit the gutter, causing us to fly off the bike into different directions. I hit the ground the hardest since the bike flipped over and I was at the back. My left hand took the full weight of my fall and needless to say, I couldn’t write with my hand (yup am a leftie) for 2 weeks. So there I was lying flat on my back taking a quick inventory of my working body parts. Luckily, nothing was broken. I didn’t know what happened to the other girls. We all scampered into different directions. I went home, got the scolding from my Nanay that was sure to stop me from biking ever again as long as I lived in our house before putting bandages around my fingers and my knees.
The next day, we were at it again. In spite of the scrapes, burns, and wounds we wasted no time after school or the summer getting on the now worn, bruised, red bike. It was our red Ferrari.
Until, one summer afternoon, I stepped out of our front door and found our gate wide open with the bike missing. And that ended biking season.
Zaido
Okay so I was born at the height of Voltes V, Voltron, Bioman and Shaider. I admit to be addicted to such shows and fancied myself as one of those Japanese superheroes trying to fight off evil. But time passed and so did these shows which were later replaced by those 2D-not-so-cartoon-adult shows called anime. I didn’t get hooked up on them as much as I did on the shows of the 80s. Anime is too complex for me. They run on a myriad of story lines which my 80s brain couldn’t handle. Suffice it to say, the kid in me is satisfied about stories that deals with heroes just fighting for what is true and what is good. Enough said.
The local channel 7 a couple of months back got the rights of one of my favorites, Shaider, and Filipinized the story starring local artists. The story takes off from Shaider’s 3 grandsons (Blue, Red and Green) taking over his fight against Fuuma. The three are called Zaido policemen. Unlike the original Shaider with only one superhero plus the sidekick, Annie clad in a yellow short skirt, this one is more believable with 3 heroes taking in the bad guys. I mean come on; it must have been pretty taxing for Shaider to fight all Fuuma’s henchmen and the beast of the week. What’s fun for me is how the Pinoys were able to get all the props made for the show. They’re not as clean cut or as believable as the gadgets you’d see by Spielberg or George Lucas. You just know that they’re all painted GI sheets and styro with the colors a bit dull. Although some of the effects leave much to be desired, overall, I think the effort put in by the production and cast is excellent.
I can’t believe the 80s came back with a vengeance!
The local channel 7 a couple of months back got the rights of one of my favorites, Shaider, and Filipinized the story starring local artists. The story takes off from Shaider’s 3 grandsons (Blue, Red and Green) taking over his fight against Fuuma. The three are called Zaido policemen. Unlike the original Shaider with only one superhero plus the sidekick, Annie clad in a yellow short skirt, this one is more believable with 3 heroes taking in the bad guys. I mean come on; it must have been pretty taxing for Shaider to fight all Fuuma’s henchmen and the beast of the week. What’s fun for me is how the Pinoys were able to get all the props made for the show. They’re not as clean cut or as believable as the gadgets you’d see by Spielberg or George Lucas. You just know that they’re all painted GI sheets and styro with the colors a bit dull. Although some of the effects leave much to be desired, overall, I think the effort put in by the production and cast is excellent.
I can’t believe the 80s came back with a vengeance!
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