Typhoon Ondoy: Yes, world, we are alive…and still kicking…

Friends and acquaintances have been asking if I’ve come from Manila and express surprise that I am alive and very much kicking.

Head’s up people: we Filipinos are extremely resilient, and no amount of floodwater is going to change that.

As to why I, for one remain unscathed, it is only because I was in Vigan and Laoag at the height of the typhoon, riding calesas, busy climbing bell towers, checking out zoos, taking photos of lots of nifty 15th century Catholic churches, trying not to get wet and pretty much trying not to get wet.

More on that later.

In the meantime, if you have something to donate, money, clothes, your time, whatever, go to the nearest website supporting survivors of the typhoon and donate, instead of reading my blog.

Balikbayan Blues (again): Ano bang meron sa mga libro? or why do I read?!?

So coming back to the Philippines, I am amazed by the kind of negativity, skepticism and cynicism here.

Consider this:  31 year old acquaintance thinks because she graduated from a reputable university, feels she is entitled to share her unsolicited advice and opinion to me about my current situation to wit:

1. Upon expressing to her my desire to have my poems published: she says I am apparently too old to get published.

2. I should have studied in her reputable university.

3. I should meet her (gay) friends because her friends are “da bomb”.

Hay.

I do feel like gagging her (andf myself) with a spoon.

I have another friend who sees my roomful of books and asks me, with such derision in her voice: “Ano bang meron jan?” (roughly translated meaning: what do you get from there anyway?)

Surprised by her outburst, I could not give her a sufficient answer. But I have taken the time to write one now, and here is the reason why I read books:

1. Because I read my first story about a flying twig when I was 7 and that gave a lonely child something to hope for.

2. Because I read Charles Dickens when I was 12 and it made me dream of something other than Baguio… and dream of London.

3. Because I’d read Huckleberry Finn, Tom Sawyer, Captain Nemo, Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, Van Helsing and even though I was a small-town little girl who couldn’t go anywhere, I could go places, on foot, on horseback, a raft, a ship, in a submarine, having adventures and making Campbellian journeys over and over again.

4. Because Homer, Ovid, Chaucer, Milton made history fascinating, mythological, mythical, magical. Because Beowulf and Gilgamesh showed me what valour and honor there was in fighting for what you believe in.

5. Because Shakespeare taught me to love and to love passionately and elegantly.

6. Because Plato taught me to know myself, because the unexamined life is not worth living, because Descartes taught me to question reality and reflect about truth, existence, the meaning of life.

7. Because Nietzche taught me that existence precedes essence.

8. Because Gabriel Garcia Marquez showed me that Eden can be reimagined, and reimagined creatively… in South America.

9. Because Rainier Maria Rilke taught me the importance of overcoming shyness, so that I can fully experience life.

10. Because Antoine de Sainte Exupery taught me that what is essential is invisible to the eye, that it is only with the eye that one can see rightly, that a rose by any another name is still a rose, because it is your rose, and because you have tamed it and you responsible for what you have tamed forever.

11. Because Neil Gaiman showed that you can still reimagine Snow White and Terry Pratchett created a world shaped like a disc held by elephants, where wizards can have eyes that look like runny sunny-side up eggs, and gold twinkle and wink.

12. Because F. Sionil Jose taught me that social justice and moral order are important and that I have the moral responsibility as a writer to fight for what is right. Because Lualhati Bautista taught me to assert myself as a woman because it’s a man’s world and you have to learn to do so if you want to survive.

13. Because books taught me to push myself, to discover my self-worth, to be more tha I can be, to be too ambitious, to believe that there is something better than abusive marriages and a life that is less than ordinary.

14. Because to read is to live. And to live is to be completely alive.

Because a life that is less than ordinary is not worth living.

And because the person who does not read, has nothing, is nothing.

Read and Live!

It is the only way to survive.

Jobhunting, Pinoy Style 4: When you’re over the hill, it’s all downhill from there…

Here’s a little-known, oft-ignored truth about the Philippine job hunting process that you need to know:

Once you get past 30, you are gone. Kaput. You are dead to the workforce. You are the pariah of the job market.

When you are over the hill, it’s all downhill from there.

This was  something I had noticed only when I had turned 30. Before that, the job market was my playground. I could have any and every job on the market and not worry about being… too old.

30 is now the new 50.

Consider the following:

1. Fastfood crew – must be from 18-24, and at least in second year college, because you need to be a student in order to agree to work for peanuts for what is essentially an underpaid job.

2. Cashier – must be from 18-24, and an accountant, which I don’t get, as anything person with only grade school qualifications can figure out the ins and outs of the cash register. It doesn’t require you to balance the books or check the profits.

3. Salesclerk – must be from 18-24 and a graduate of a four-year course, although I do not see why you need a degree to be a salesclerk and why a younger person is a better salesclerk than an older one.

4. Movie usher – must be from 18-24 and a graduate of a four-year course, because you need a degree in physics to figure out where to sit moviegoers in a movie theater

5. Waitress – must be from 18-24 and a graduate of a four-year course and! with pleasing personality (whatever the hell that is), because your degree in accountancy will help you get the orders right.

6. Driver – must be from 18-24 and a graduate of a four-year course and must have experience in driving. Although I do not see why they shouldn’t just be trained na lang.

7. Call center agent – must be from 18-24 and a graduate of a four-year course, because lord knows that degree in nursing will come in handy when you are trying to deal with an irate customer from the American South who can’t work his computer or modem.

8. Government clerk – must be from 18-24 (well, 28, because they’re more inclusive that way) and a graduate of a four-year course, because that degree in political science will come in handy when you are trying to pocket government money for your own good.If  you want a higher position, you’ll need connections. And money. And a whole lot of favors to call on.

I could go on and on, but you get the idea. The only areas where you can get in without an age limit, is in university. But in the uni, you need a master’s, a doctorate and pretty much other diplomas that will guarantee you are qualified to spoonfeed students with mindless fodder.

So, as you can see, either way, you are f*cked.

Meanwhile the government goes on and on about how the unemployment rate in the Philippines is so high. And wonder why it is high. And then go on and post new posters with their faces on it, proudly saying this is where my taxes go.

So as you can see, when you are over the hill, it’s all downhill from there.

L-WORD Season 1, revisited: When it was all still promising

The other reason I was indisposed for so long:

I was alone at home for the weekend, so I took it upon myself to re-watch “The L-Word”. I know I have promised myself  not to mention “The L-Word”, but this show is always good for a blog post, because it’s so bad that it’s kinda…well, bad.

Except for Season 1.

Now if you are a fan of the L-Word and of DVD marathons, the secret to re-watching the L-Word seasons is to:

1. Skip the Jenny scenes. That is the joy of DVDs. You can skip her as much as you like.

2. Master the fine art of anticipating when Dana, Shane and Alice come one, preferably all the same time, since they always get the best lines.

3. Sit back, suspend disbelief, throw your concepts of character motivation, theme, plot, continuity, good storytelling out the window so that you can enjoy this show.

That being said, Season 1 of the L-Word is fun because like most promising shows, that eventually get canceled or go sour or awry, Season 1 was decent and fun and was just plain entertaining.

Highlights of Season 1 include:

1. Jenny’s coming out via Marina the predatory lesbian – This is where we are introduced to a much more normal, small-town Jenny (Mia Kirschner) in the big, bad world of worldly (and apparently and inexplicably) gay L.A. Before she goes off the deep end, goes unhinged and murdered. In Season 1, Jenny is just understandably conflicted, confused, and on the verge of a crisis, especially since she cannot seem to resist the sexual advances of one Marina, the hot cafe owner with the accent (isn’t it always about the accent?) with a penchant for unavailable women and sex in the most public places. Jenny’s dramatized prose/fiction is still tolerable (the annoying carnival metaphors are reserved for Season 2) and she manages to pull off being sympathetic even though she is cheating on her would-be hubby.

2. Pre-Carmen Shane, always gorgeous and hot, and her inexplicably awesome ability to shag every woman, gay or straight, in L.A. No one seems to be able to resist her and she doesn’t seem to be getting any communicable sexually transmitted disease, even though she seems to be doing it without any semblance of protection. I of course, believe that in real life, Shane does not exist. I believe most fans don’t believe she exists as well. Pre-Carmen Shane is promiscuous and commitment phobic, but pre-Carmen Shane is always there for the friends.

3. Bette the Alpha-lesbian, Tina the submissive, trophy wife – Ah, yes, the Alpha lesbian, ballbusting Bette Porter (Jennifer Beals), art major from Yale now art gallery director who, with wife Tina always seem to be looking for sperm donors. Towards the end of season 1, they succeed in looking for sperm donors, and proceed to bombard their (unwilling) friends and fans with a point-by-point account of the pregnancy phase. This was actually fun, although it just succeeds in reinforcing my decision never to get pregnant.

4. Dana the tennis player – Dana (Erin Daniels), is my favorite character for obvious reasons. A closeted dork with the best lines, she is fun to watch (of course I’m out, so). Best scenes and storyline in Season 1: has to be the story line with hot sous chef Lara (Lauren Lee Smith), especially the hilarious stake out in order to ascertain her sexuality and whether she can date Dana or not. Strange though about Dana: it doesn’t make sense that she is in the closet and she cannot come out because she is a tennis player when the term “as gay as a tennis player” has entered lexicon (well, mine anyway). I mean, hello?!? Martina Navratilova? Billie Jean King? Amelie Mauresmo? Also, another strange storyline: Dana breaks up with Lara because she is in the closet and cannot take the pressure Lara is putting on her to come out. Then Dana comes out and she does not get back with Lara. Instead she gets it on with her would-be agent at Dinah Shore weekend, decides to marry her after meeting her only for a day, then suddenly Alice, her bestfriend, who, prior to this storyline, has showed no indication of being interested in her, suddenly confesses her love for her.

Overall, a pretty interesting season.

Then it all goes downhill from there.

I kid you not.

Jobhunting, Pinoy Style 3: What to expect when you’re expecting (another crappy interview)

Interviews are officially a bitch.

I know this only from having gone through some just from a couple of companies.

I am informed that I will have another interview in San Fernando, La Union.

I sigh.

I piss and moan.

I rant and rave.

I try to force myself out of bed to catch a Partas bus, which I conveniently miss, so I have to settle for those buses in Bayanihan, near Burnham, which look like they need to be laid to rest, and which are usually driven by maniacs who drive like there is no tomorrow. Plus, they are ordinary buses, a code for “not-air-conditioned”.

I expect another tedious interview. This is the third interview, and I am unhappy, as it is the same institution and the interviews are just so…tedious.

To my surprise though, the interview goes well. They seemed to have saved the big guns for last. Or at least the best for last.

The interviewer is the director of one of the departments. Unlike the previous interviewers, he exudes confidence, cosmopolitanness, an aura that says I am from around here, but I’ve been everywhere, but that doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy being here.

Consider this: grew up in the US, educated in the US, worked in the US, gave up all that to work here, despite frustrations about the Philippine culture and system. I perk up. This is exactly what I need: somebody who knows what it’s like,  who’s been there, and has come back and is surviving and making a difference.

More than this, the interview process changes: he does something out of the ordinary. He asks us to do impromptu material and presentation. It is, at least to me, different and interesting.

I do it. So does my competition. Who is younger, inexperienced and full of self-doubt.

I feel like maybe I have done a good job.

But this remains to be seen.

There is hope for the Philippines afterall.

Jobhunting, Pinoy style 2: Something pornographic this way comes… (What to do when you are asked if you can write porn or not… )

Back from the dead!

Apologies for not posting for five days! Stab me now, stab me now!

I have a valid reason as to why I have been, er, indisposed for the past five days is because…

1. I was in Clark for a day.

2. I was in Manila for a day.

3. I went back to Clark the same day and spent the whole day just enjoying the Arakeen heat. It was so hot I literally could not move my body. I locked myself in my friends’ room napping and dreaming of cold places like… Antartica.

4. I was in San Fernando, La Union for, would you believe? the LAST, absolutely last, interview for the uni I had applied for. It was hot as hell there as well. So hot I could literally feel myself lose weight from the all the body water I was losing.

So, here is an insight on jobhunting, Pinoy style. Jobhunting itself can be a sort of job in itself.  Heck, it can be your social life as well. And there is so much possibility for character observation and so much fodder for blog posts!

ORTIGAS: SOMETHING PORNOGRAPHIC THIS WAY COMES

The lowdown:

So, I get an email a couple of weeks ago from a little-known “studio” (that’s the word attached to this company’s name, which, for obvious reasons, will not be named and which, for purposes of this blog post, will remain just “The Studio”) emails me and requests for my portfolio of articles written. Encouraged, I scour the internet for available articles I had managed to publish in print and online, save them on disk and forward them to the aforementioned “Studio”. I think nothing of it afterwards since I do not hear from them anymore. Imagine my surprise the week after when a woman calls me on my mobile asking if I could come for an interview in Ortigas now na.  Saved by the fact that I am safely ensconced in Baguio, I make the readymade excuse that I cannot make it since I am still in Baguio. The interview is scheduled for a Tuesday (last Tuesday, in fact) in Ortigas at 10am. Dilemma: this was an alanganing oras. Did this mean I had to travel around midnight, arrive in Manila bleary-eyed and pissed, whilst attempting to navigate Manila’s ever confusing traffic and transportation system and urban structural system that always seems to defy definition and mastery? I decide of course that maybe I could travel a day before, since I do not like traveling at midnight, because I do not particularly like aforementioned bleary-eyed, and pissed off state I usually find myself in, which might adversely affect my interview itself. But more than that, I do not like traveling late (alone) because this is usually the time when suspicious elements go around wreaking havoc, i.e. you might find  yourself being groped by some pervert while you are sleeping or find yourself in the middle of a highway robbery (I know someone’s whose mom was traveling from Manila around midnight, took a  nap and woke with the barrel of a gun to her head and a not-so-polite-request to give up all her money and jewelry or lose life and limb). The other dilemma: where is Ortigas? What bus do I take? How do I navigate Manila? These were the reasons I couldn’t go right away.

Initially I had wanted to go to Manila Monday, but that poses a whole set of new challenges: accommodation, transportation, food, extra money – money I do not have the luxury of spending so casually or callously. I had decided not to go already, but mom says I should just go and check it out anyway. She suggests  I go to Clark first on Monday, then from Clark, on Tuesday, travel to Manila.

So I go to Clark, crash among friends, enjoy the heat – which, as always, is so refreshing and amazing in its capacity to immobilize you.

I wake up early Tuesday, having been advised that I can take any bus bound for Pasay, tell the conductor I am getting off in Ortigas, get off at Ortigas, and hope for the best.

So I do as I am told. I have made a commitment not to get on  any Victory Liner bus, since although it is the safest, most reliable, most trustworthy bus in town, it will get you to your destination by Christmas. If you leave by the end of Ramadan, you will probably get to your destination by Halloween or Christmas. When you get on any Victory Liner bus, you will find that car, a motorbike, a carabao, even a person walking by the side of the road, will overtake your bus.

Anyway, so I take another bus, am treated to the day’s news, some horrid, lurid FM radio talk show involving somebody “balahura’” and somebody “balasubas“, and go through some moments of sadness when I look back at a time when FM radio talk shows were decent. I particularly remember that old lady from RJ radio who used to have those midnight talk shows. Boy, was she fun!

So after an hour and a half, I am told to get off at Ortigas. Ortigas is where the EDSA shrine is. Right next to it, is Robinson’s Galleria, a massive building that just reeks of the stench of commerce so early in the morning. I deduce of course that Robinson’s Tower is somewhere near Galleria. Being female, I ask for directions and am promptly directed to the back of the Galleria. I am early. I try to smoke, to relieve my stress, but smoking in Manila is like trying to eat underwater: it doesn’t work and it doesn’t make you feel better. My interview is 10am, I go up the 23rd floor at around 9:30am. I leave my ID at the ground floor, go up the elevator, get off and find the office to be at my left. I go off to wipe the grime off my face – which is so thick you can plant camote in it. I gather up the courage to get in. There are 3 other applicants, all male. They look young and inexperienced, and so have that boisterous, trying-too-hard-to-be-confident look on their face. They have come in jeans and shirts, whilst I have come in with my suit and portfolio. I am sweating like a pig, but at least I look prepared and I feel like I am. In a few minutes, I realize that they are not applying for the same position so I relax.

Do I look like I can write porn? Yeah, I thought so too.

I am told to report and a youngish woman comes in to interview me, maybe Filipino Chinese, but definitely Manilenya, right down to the attitude.

The interview is underway. She asks me standard questions I used to ask interviewees before: tell her about myself (easy!), what motivates me (can’t seem to answer this satisfactorily),  where will I be in 5 years (I have no f*cking idea!) and so on. And then, there is a slight shift in the interview: Am I willing to work from 10pm to 7am? That gives me a different vibe. I say, cautiously that I can. Then she asks me another: What is the hardest decision I usually have difficulty making? I say, When my personal conviction gets in the way of my professional obligations. Say, I know my employees should get a salary increase, as stipulated by law, but my corporation cannot give it for a variety of reasons and thus it falls on me to sugarcoat this to employees. Anyway, suddenly she asks me this question: “Are you willing to write for porn sites?”

This takes me by surprise.

I have no answer for it.

Finally I gather my wits to me, my bearings, and say, even more cautiously and carefully, that I can…but a number of things already are going through my head, Perez-Hilton-style, like: OMG! OMG!OMG! WTF?

The next thing that comes to mind is: there is no way I am going to write for porn sites. Even if it’s good money. Mostly because, what the hell am I a feminist for if I start writing for porn sites? I mean, what if the porn site is for kids? or young women? How will I be able to look at myself in the mirror every morning?

My mind races frantically for a way to get out of this situation without necessarily coming off as freaked out. I stall for time. I ask if I will have to write porn all the time. Apparently I will not. Whew! But there is a catch. If a client wants me to write porn, I obviously cannot turn it down. Another catch: the interviewer wants me take a test online, wherein I will be required to write a pornographic article. Like, now na.

This again, takes me aback. Thus, I go for the obvious. I tell the interviewer if I can forgo that and if I can take that na lang if I actually do get the job. Also, can I just…think about it, first?

The interviewer agrees, but there is some awkwardness there and I feel like I have not handled that well.

I leave that office relieved.

I know even before leaving that I will not call them ever again.

Jobhunting, Pinoy Style

Apparently there is an art to jobhunting as much as there is an art to interviewing people who are tasked to make your life a living hell as you look for jobs.

This is the process as much as I can tell, based on my experience with a uni i San Fernando, La Union:

1. Apply online. Send your application.

2. Wait a few days for a reply.

3. Check email and find reply that indicates that they are interested in interviewing you. This is just the initial interview.

4.  Wake up at 4 in the morning to catch the 6 o’clock Partas bus going to La Union (air-conditioned – you don’t want your hair all over the place in a non-air conditioned bus…it is just so unattractive). Freeze your ass off how cold the bus is. Travel a couple of hours or so to La Union. Arrive there at 8am for a 9am interview.

5. Go around the place having an anxiety attack waiting for your interview. Marvel at how provincial it all is.

6. Have the interview at 9am,which will last an hour or so. Take a test after. This will include a verbal, mathematical, abstract reasoning test and a personality test.

7. Go back down to the HR office to have your other requirements completed. Requirements are as follows:

a. application letter

b. transcript of records

c. diplomas

d. certificate of employment

e. clearance

f. work permit (yes, people, I need a permit to work in my own country where in other countries, your passport and visa will suffice)

g. barangay clearance and police clearance – for in case you end up being a mass murderer, which they cannot tell from your suit and that bored look on your face

h. wait for a reply via email or text

8. company will text  you a week later, asking you to travel back again for a panel interview

9. repeat number 4, but this time, the interview will start an hour later. You will be interviewed for an hour. Contents of the interview will be as follows:

a. how will you integrate your experience and qualifications into the new work

b. what is your salary expectation

c. etc. etc.

Watch the interviewers go in shock as they realize that your salary expectation is higher than what you expected…

10. apply somewhere else…

Hay. Jobhunting is a bitch!

Off to watch “30 days of night” now.

Been awhile now…

Hay.

This is just plain ridiculous.

Still jobless.

Can’t decide where to work.

My ex says I’m just too ambitious for my own good.

My friend once said that if you’re going to dream, you might as well dream big. Dreams are free anyway.

My aunt says anything is possible, that you can do anything you set your mind to.

Obscurity – something I’m afraid of. More than that, mediocrity.

But even more than both – I am afraid to die without having done anything substantial with my life.

My former boss said in Chinese “crisis” means two things: opportunity and danger. When you grasp crisis as an opportunity and make the most of it, then that’s good.  It becomes dangerous when you don’t deal with the crisis and just let it go on for a long time.

Sigh.

Must deal with this…

Murphy’s Law at work here…(balikbayan blues)

So somebody stole my cellphone last night.

I was about to go home from a day of work (yes, I do freelance work right now – toxic, I tell ya!) which has left my eyes burning and my brain fried. I was walking down Session Road, just my own business when lo and behold, I reach down my pocket and find an emptiness where once my cellphone was.I panicked. I cursed. Ranted and raved. I cursed the snatchers to kingdom come. But of course, no amount of this will bring back my cellphone.

On top of that, I am still, officially unem- well, underemployed, and thus do not seem to gain favor in the eyes of many. Unemployed penniless balikbayan – who’d have thunk it, yeah? I have loans to pay off, friends who’ve moved on, a city and a country that has moved on, work that seems to be always beyond my grasp. And it’s always either hot or raining!

God, I miss London!