nao

the truth is, there is no f*cking rest for the weary. nao.

keep in mind the lessons of the lecture: randy pausch, 47

Again, no one is too prepared. Image from NYTimes' Tara Parker-Pope, from among many late breaking news and blogs. American college students — and the rest of humankind — are lucky to have had an inspirational, persevering and empowered human being live the way he did, in their lifetime. Our lifetime.

"You might be surprised by how little time you spend doing things you love most"

.....

Wishlist: The Last Lecture book excerpt.

Related entry.

Outbound:

Wired entry.

His personal page is currently not accessible, probably due to high traffic. The cached page is here.

Cinemalaya 2008: continuing the "golden age" of Philippine Cinema

Ongoing at the Cultural Center of the Philippines is the 2008 Cinemalaya Film Festival which, as we know, has recently been the source of many good films that's done the rounds, have been recognized for their excellence abroad and have made us proud.

Cinemalaya is the current flame bearer of its forebear, the much maligned Marcos-era ECP — the Experimental Cinema of the Philippines — and of the ECP's counterpart, at least in support of independent production, the MOWELFUND. In any case, all three entities produced unparalleled Filipino film classics outside of the mainstream.

From being one of the most prolific film producers in the 70s to the 90s, our local film industry's output has slumped, thanks in no part to the short-sightedness of many 80s film producers that made film after film that were short on depth but overflowing with mediocre acting and production values.

The counter-culture persisted nonetheless. Now, it seems that the indies are the heirs apparent to Jose Nepomuceno (left) 89 years later, much more reflective of the Filipinos and the so-called "national consciousness", but sadly still in search of the Filipino audience and of genuine patrons.

Screenings, conferences, retrospectives, best-of schedules, meet-and-greet sessions, world premieres, awards: they've got it covered. Jim Libiran's Tribu, Solito's Pagdadalaga ni Maximo Olivares and Pisay: the Movie, Dante Garcia's Ploning (another good friend, he), Joel Ruiz's Mansyon and Big Time, as well as Manuel Conde's classic films will be shown.

Download the full schedule here. (10 pp. PDF file. Schedules written as of July 7, 2008. May change without prior notice. Please check with the venue for day scheds. CCP Box Office: [63-2] 832-3704 and [63-2] 832-1125 loc. 1409 - 1410.)

Useful references:

• Philippines THE FIRST GOLDEN AGE AND AFTER
  
• Onlineessays.com History of Philippine Cinema
  
• Video48's entry on Jose Zialcita Nepomuceno
  
• Technorati's compilation of tags on Cinemalaya videos.
  
• The National Historical Institute's (NHI) biography on Jose Nepomuceno.

And lots of others, if you keep your fingers busy on the keyboard and can spare some time to read and watch, that is.

So, see you at the movies.

le Prix de l'Avenir 2008: Tribung Pinoy

A design colleague, a vice consul, and an invited director — ka-Tropas all — found themselves reunited at the ParisCinema 2008 rooting for the only Filipino feature-length film entry which was declared winner of le Prix de l'Avenir, the Youth Jury Award, at the 2008 Paris Cinema Festival in France on July 10, 2008.

Isabel Templo, Angela Ponce and Aureaus Solito, joined by Isabel's sister Margie Templo of Arkeo Films — an invited Festival workshop participant — were more than a happy tribe of Pinoys when Jun Libiran's Tribu was announced the worthy recipient of the jury prize.

Tribu, set in Tondo in the City of Manila, the 2007 winner of the Cinemalaya Philippine Independent Film Festival, is a digital film about the violence rapper gangs live through. Tondo is often featured in the news for incidents involving violence, and in many cases used as the example of slum life and urban poverty. It is also Jim Libiran's birthplace. Having two gangs in the film — fierce rivals in real life — enact their off-screen realities on screen is in itself an amazing tour de force.

Tribu is Jim Libiran's MA thesis at the University of the Philippines under Media Studies and Film and is his first feature-length work.

The Philippines is this year's Festival's country of honor represented by the largest number of Filipino independent cinema delegates so far.

This year, after Brazil, Korea and Lebanon, the Paris Cinema IFF will celebrate the notable and noted renewal of Philippine cinema in a special tribute. A chance to discover the new talents and the emerging creative energy of this Latin, Catholic island in the heart of Asia...

With a screening program of about 30 films and the presence of numerous guests, this event will showcase both young directors and great names of Philippines cinema.

Our entries, delegates and participants did our country proud, the international viewers have spoken; it's our turn to do our share by patronizing our own films.

Top graphic montage: krvilla08

Poster: ParisCinema 2008 official poster: http://www.pariscinema.org/

Links / References

Cinemalaya entry review, The International Herald Tribune, Nov. 1, 2007: In "Tribu", real life Filipino gangs collaborate on screen" by Carlos H. Conde

Tribu details, synopsis, filmmaker's bio and statement from the International Forum of New Cinema, 2007 in PDF format

Filmdeculte.com

Telos (78)

"There are... things which a man is afraid to tell even to himself, and every decent man has a number of such things stored away in his mind." ~ Dostoyevsky, Notes from the Underground [1864]

RLV,Jr

Have given space to others who have passed on but who I do not know personally, except for beloved grandma (AFB), Sir Roger and Rene O., e.g., but today, I think it proper to give this space to RLV,Jr.

I do not know RLV,Jr intimately and the one chance of an encounter — kind of vague now — sits among other collections of childhood memories in my mind.

Having learned that after 78 years, his earthly existence has reached its end today (written "30", as they say), I wish to say:

Rest in peace. dismalgurl and I, or maybe mjb and you, will hopefully get the chance of another encounter, maybe a chat, someday.

Photo credits: Montage krvilla08| typebar and keys: Pawel Kryj and Jean-Pierre Ceppo / sxc.hu

Bagful of thanks

“I have found that among its other benefits, giving liberates the soul of the giver." ~ Maya Angelou

On May 2, 2008, after composing a letter (and, eventually, editing it into a forum post), I sent out an email to a selected number of people who I felt comfortable with, I thought will not prejudge the contents and who I thought I might receive a reply or two from.

The long letter goes like this:
To cut the story short, I am here, now, posting out of gratitude. To those who replied, pledged and gave, it has been a humbling experience.

The kindness of strangers

Over at the forum, the threaded replies to my post have been heartwarming. Strangers (my fellow forum members) they are not, even if we "know" each other only by our nicknames — I have met one of the members in person, though — and our contacts have all been virtual discussions. Still, reading their posts made me feel that each one was sincere. Some, as per my request, have mailed me directly.

"Dr. Anonymous" of Philmug.ph, gracious donor, personally handed his 9 bags to Jod, our rep, in his office.

"FebruarySong" and "kate" have communicated privately.

"achtungbaby", "coolpix", "super_ed", "picoy", "penmanila", "treb22", "Macmon", "freelancer", "hungryalien", "rvaph", "tjgato", "assdoc", "rosea", and "bluegenes" have all been encouraging.

Thank you all.

What friends are for

Production colleague Marlette has prepared a couple of backpacks and a pair of shoes for pick-up. Marlette, thank you.

My cousin May's friend, GB, inquired about pretty much the same stuff as what Marlette has prepared to give. Friends of friends, friends of relatives have all been responsive.

To May and GB, Gerald, the recipients' organizer, said that they will welcome whatever is voluntarily and openly given.

The joys of family and hearth

An awesome response has been from cousin May dV, who decided to make her forthcoming birthday celebration a Bag Drive event.

Initially replying to say that she'll try her best to gather her collection of conference bags:

"yes, in fact i do have unused and slightly used conference bags. i will endeavour to look for them this weekend. and will ask my officemates if they would spare theirs, too."

she followed her letter immediately with an offer of not just helping with solicitations but making the drive a birthday event:

"hey manang,

i think i would like to help you with this as part of my birthday celeb this May 2008. kahit na sa pag-solicit lang ng mga bags for the schoolers..."

and eventually furnished me a copy of her birthday email:

"mga friendships & relatives,

as part of my birthday celebration this year, am helping out my 1st cousin with this BAG DONATION DRIVE. grateful if you can spare some of your (unused/slightly used) conference bags for the highschoolers/grade schoolers in Asipulo, Ifugao - click link to take a virtual trip to Asipulo.

in lieu of your birthday gifts to me (hehe), kindly give your bags to me on or before 18 May (my brithday) for forwarding to my cousin's group. they have moved their trip to Asipulo on an earlier date, on May 25, before the children get busy with their [school] pre-registration/registration activities.

warm regards,
MAYO"

Trust May to connect fast with her network, she being the clan's one-person text brigade operator for family matters such as get-togethers, crises and milestones. May took from her mother, my aunt, and took over her mom's role as the alternative cornerstone of family gatherings and goings-on when my aunt passed on.

May has been in the NGO circuit for more than a decade now. Her work has afforded her direct contact with grassroots-based communities and its members. Thus, when my letter landed in her inbox, the concept of sharing touched a chord common to both of us.

May sent my letter to her friends and the responses have been great. In particular, another cousin, Ate Candy, has sent out word, too, and pledged to include some school supplies pooled from her friends and office mates and, as of this post, has had them already delivered over to May's office: a whopping 26 bags, 54 pencils and some notepads! Wow! That's on top of the 9 bags we got from Dr. Anonymous, some bags from my colleague, and two more found inside my cabinet, and whatever else will be received on the 18th at May's party.

Ate Candy wrote:

Grabeh May! Sa bahay ko pa lang, me 12 na akong conference bags dun, pero most walang sling. I have 3 decent ones which would really be ok sa highschool student. Dalhin ko sa Kamuning.

Thanks, Ate Candy!

It takes a village

What more can I say beyond thank you to all who read and forwarded the email, read and replied to the forum post?

That I have so much to be grateful for, foremost of which is the validation that people in general are innately nurturing and caring. Second, that it takes a village to make things happen faster and in a bigger way no matter how simple the request.

Close friends and relatives can attest to the fact that solicitation is not one of my strengths. When I mentioned at the start of this post that I was worried about my email being prejudged, it was really more of a fear that my email might simply be ignored. No matter, as even when composing the mail, however, I was totally resigned to the fact that people will have one reason or other for not responding, and, whatever the reason, I would understand why.

On the the other hand, upon hitting the 'send' button, I felt some kind of liberation and sense of achievement at being able to finish the letter and actually sending it out and posting it to the forum. That both were received positively was a total bonus.

Liberation

The feeling of liberation is similar to how it felt like when I rode on the back of a motocross motorcycle last year on the descent from Pula to Lagawe on rough, narrow, steep and winding roads that turned 'round the mountain side. Dabert, of the Asipulo Municipal Agriculture Office (MAO), my knight on the not-so-shiny troublesome bike, was kind enough to accommodate my request for a ride back to the Lagawe lodge to retrieve our things so we can join the rest of the guests staying overnight in Asipulo at the JCAMPBELL Park last year.

I had fair warning that the only available ride to Lagawe was by a motorcycle in that late hour. It so happened that the only motorcycle available wasn't even Dabert's, and although he knew the bike wasn't in the best condition to make the dash to Lagawe and back, he tried. And the best of efforts he did, in spite of the fact that he felt my nervous grip around his waist a tad too tight for, like, the first 30 minutes' ride on the bike (he told me this later) and he read no real, physical sign of confidence and trust from me despite my putting up a gung-ho front. But that was just for the first 30 minutes or so, the equivalent of more or less 10 kms (or approximately the distance from the Quezon City Hall to the Manila City Hall): a coverage of just about a fourth of the entire one-way travel.

The circumstance was such that throughout this stretch, only about 12-15 percent of that initial 30-minute backride had roadside houses and pedestrians along the way. The rest of the trip was just Dabert and myself on the lonely, rough, winding and narrow downhill road with the mountainside to our right, and deep ravine to our left. No helmets and other protective gear for us both, just a tricky 2-wheel vehicle on the trickiest road there is.

After about 30 minutes and a lot of mental battle, I thought: Pirsig. Robert Pirsig. The essence of that Robert Pirsig moment: "Just let go. Whatever happens will happen, but trust that whatever happens, happens for a reason." I felt my grip around Dabert's waist loosening, slowly. When I finally let go and relaxed, only then did I feel the wind on my face and the empty space between my feet and the road (my legs were hanging from where I sat on the big bike the whole time).

The fact is, this post is not about me but about those who already were liberated ahead of me and have learned to trust.

After all, my colleagues and I are just a conduit to everyone's generosity in this effort.

Updates

We have so far received an assortment of bags. In particular, those from "Dr. Anonymous" were not just sling bags but big, sturdy, zippered tote bags. They'd be useful as personal carry-alls for those studying in other provinces and staying with relatives or in dorms.

Needless to say, we weren't prepared for the type of bags and the quantity received. May asked if we could share the other bags with others besides the kids.

Yes, we did think of other possible recipients in Asipulo: appropriate bags for the daycare center volunteers and health workers.

Our trip back to Asipulo is again moved ahead of original schedule because of the kids' participation in municipal and organizational activities. CLT, my colleague, will leave ahead of me on the evening of the 17th, bringing what she can.

I, on the other hand, have committed to be at my cousin May's birthday bag drive on the 18th, and will catch the last bus to Ifugao province right after the celebrations.

I will update this post with pictures when I come back.

To you all, thank you.

Updates-2

More from May | 6:13pm | 16 may 08:

1. Noemi Jacob - 5 black conference bags
2. Ding and Helen Espinar - 12 backpacks, assorted color/design (new)
3. Evelyn Daplas - 7 green&blue mailmanbag-type conference bags; 2 black conference bags; 1 chinese-design ladies handbag & 1 "Candies" shoulder bag.
4. May Reyes-De Vera - 3 black conference bags

more on sunday i hope... see ya!
=)
MAYO

passages

GJ dela Rosa

On April 8, 2008, GJ dela Rosa's fragile, physical shell gave up and succumbed to the call of angels in a hospital in Pasadena following a tragic accident, being critically hit by a car hours after he and his family arrived in America.

Like most Filipino children who dream of experiencing Disneyland in America first-hand, seeing their favorite super hero characters up-close, and sight-seeing with relatives, GJ's first USA trip came as a gift and a surprise reward from his parents for finishing 1st Grade.

GJ's case was brought to my attention by his uncle, a member of my Mac forum where he posted a thread requesting for prayers for GJ and his parents' recovery. GJ's dad was also seriously injured; his mom seems to be in a better condition to recover. Another unidentified pedestrian was also a victim.

There was ample coverage on the tragic accident at the corner of a busy Old Pasadena district, but of all the linked media coverage I read and watched, it was this local ABC News coverage that told most of the story.

I do not know GJ personally, except for the forum post and wishes of recovery and condolences as when I replied to his uncle's thread. The thread had reached nine pages in a short span of time and spawned an outpouring of sympathies and prayers. Subsequently, I discovered that the closest possible connection I have with this little boy is from a similar request for prayers and financial help when I received an email from my high school alumni YahooGroup: it seems GJ's dad and relatives are alumni of my high school.*

It is always a tragic event to lose a child because we hope for better prospects for the young. That is what forebears mould their children to be: productive, accomplished, caring. Parents give much of themselves so that their children will have a life ahead of them and carry on what they have learned and become better individuals than their forebears.

GJ, 8 years old, was cremated in America while his parents are still recovering. If you can spare something to help GJ's folks defray the cost of hospitalization and recovery, please go to GJ's World. There, you will know more about GJ's story and be able to leave words of comfort to his bereaved family.
..................
April 15 | *I recently found out that the family were old-time residents of the same street in San Juan where we used to live.

Julia

A year ago this month, on April 7, US Peace Corps volunteer Julia Campbell made a personal wish come true by spending her remaining R&R to visit the famed Rice Terraces of Banaue in Ifugao. Julia had read much about these natural wonders and allotted time and resources to personally experience the mountain phenomena.

Julia was at the peak of her active life. At 40 and an accomplished journalist, she chose to give two years of her life to helping the marginalized community members of Calamba, Laguna and Donsol, Sorsogon by becoming a volunteer teacher, solicitor of books for a local library, and ecology advocate.

Julia would have ended her 2-year tenure in the Philippines in June of 2007 and pursue further studies at the NYU in New York where she had been based prior to her appointment to the Philippines.

Julia, it seems, was not the typical American visitor. She had planned, among others, to set up a Tagalog-language group with fellow volunteers in the US, and, further, planned a return journey to the Philippines and Southeast Asia. Julia learned Tagalog in the US before coming here. She not only had a good command of Tagalog, but later learned and could converse in Bicolano as well, even learning how to prepare and cook Bicolano food, especially ginataan (food cooked in coconut milk).

Julia knew which of the Banaue terraces had the best vista and therefore took the route to Batad district. On the afternoon of her scheduled trek to Batad, she failed to contact friends and acquaintances whom she was with the night before. Not long after, she was reported missing by her Peace Corps family. After a few days, the unfortunate news of her brutal death stunned all of those who knew her and who kept vigil. It was later found out that a native guide, a non-Ifugao, had admitted to the killing. Her community members and adoptive families in Laguna and Sorsogon, US Peace Corp friends in the Philippines, and family members in the US were left to grieve for the loss of a caring and gracious loved one.

Julia's mother and friends were recently in Banaue, Ifugao to attend the second and last hearing of Julia's case. Juan Dontogan (or Duntugan) has confessed to and apologized for the crime, her case in court has ended and verdict will be out on June 30.

Julia's passing would have remained a low-key event. Like soldiers, their lives as volunteers were prepared for dangerous undertakings. However, Julia's death was a most unlikely circumstance. Ifugao, and Banaue in particular, had not had a record of crime of this nature considering the number of tourists, foreign and local, that the place receives annually. It is unfortunate that Julia's death seems to be the assonant contrapunto to the magnificent beauty of Banaue.

On June 2007, a symbolic peace offering by the Ifugao people, probably one of the most beneficent and peace-loving tribes of the Philippines — through another USPC volunteer of a younger batch, the energetic Dustin Butler — inaugurated the Julia Campbell Agroforest Memorial Park (JCAMPark) in Asipulo, Ifugao. Asipulo is historical, as is the whole of Ifugao Province. Asipulo's mountains are silent witnesses to the American and Japanese casualties of World War II. Today, the elder men and women of Asipulo still have stories to tell about the 'Million Dollar Hill', Yamashita's retreating troops and about the displaced mountain boulders scattered on the rice fields as a result of dynamite blasts.

Asipulo, where Dustin is assigned as a farming volunteer, is about 45 minutes south of Banaue, yet the distance is by no means a hindrance to the gratefulness of the Ifugao people in wishing to commemorate what Julia lived for: peace, love for others, care for the environment, and the initiative to reach out and understand one's fellow man.

The JCAMPark may yet be a fine example of an interstice between giving (of oneself) and the premature end of (the ability to give); a living offering of peace.

Grandma

Two years ago today, Grandma passed on from this physical plane to the immortal and peaceful.

That Grandma lived a full life is an understatement. She passed the century mark and outlived some of her children and almost all of her contemporaries: fellow war veterans, co-teachers and students. She lived long enough to see great-great-great grandchildren born to this world. She knew our birthdays and milestones by heart, whose child, spouse or in-law is who's, at whose house or venue an occasion was happening, and why.

Grandma was a widow throughout the post-war years, bringing up seven children, putting them to school, feeding each throughout college and still had energy and compassion to spare when the grandchildren — my generation — needed to be taken care of.

In her living years, Grandma was wife, mother, sister, teacher, guardian, grandmother, barrio head and counsel, financier, adviser and provider all in one. Her memory is unmatched, her experiences deep and vast.

Grandma was a petite woman, yet she cast a long and dominant shadow. In her 80s, she beat up a poor garden snake with her cane after it made the mistake of springing an early morning surprise on my mother out in the yard in Fairview. In as much as Grandma did not spare the snake, so too was my mother not spared from her scolding. In her 90s, she complained about her failing eyesight and requested to see an eye doctor. By her mid-90s, she was adamant at letting her grade school great-grand kids know the difference between sucrose and fructose. When I stayed with her to continue my elementary studies, she taught me the "right way" to pronounce monocotyledon and dicotyledon as had been taught her by the Thomasites, completely different from how we were taught by the local teachers.

That Grandma was old school is another understatement. I, with other female cousins (if there were any for company), were forbidden to play in the afternoons with the boys or spend leisure time simply looking out the windows. Instead, she would say, insistently: the woman's place is in the kitchen. She tolerated the naughtiness of the boys, yet provided them the shoulder to cry on when their (adult) lives seemed headed for the rocks.

Grandma was well versed with current events. She was so old-school, in fact, that she opined Monica Lewinsky was as much at fault (that's short of blaming her), and Bill Clinton too weak to resist seduction. I was told that she, like many Filipinos of her generation, cried when JFK was shot, followed man's landing on the moon on the radio, and, when finally bedridden, did not request for a cellphone — no! — but politely demanded to have one so she could reach people when she needed to, "just like the kakadwa (household help) who had nothing else better to do than text their friends in between work". Grandma, therefore, actually owned a cellphone, courtesy of a cousin, sometime before she succumbed three months short of 104.

When Grandma passed on, practically the whole province came to bid her goodbye. Relatives who have settled in all the three major Philippine islands and the Americas came to pay their last respects. The whole event was overwhelming and totally unexpected.

On the day that we walked Grandma's mortal remains for interment, the line was incredibly long, starting from were she lay in state in my uncle's barrio house west of town, to the church passing the National highway, then southward to the town cemetery where we occupied half the narrow Maharlika Highway holding up traffic both ways for minutes. My sister would not miss this occasion for the world, meeting up with the entourage that was coming out of the last rites from church after she alighted from the bus, her trip the equivalent of the red-eye straight from lighting an Earth Day event in Manila the night before.

I saw Grandma's life in the nameless faces who walked with us that day or who came to say goodbye: old women and men in black, local folks who, when she was alive, dropped by for one reason or other at her big house along the highway; relatives and descendants of her students and friends, my relatives' friends and extended family; relatives from other provinces, and countless nieces, nephews and grandchildren — my generation's grandchildren, that is. And the last of the living World War II fellow veterans of Grandma, the unknown war survivors and defenders of the State who fought alongside the Americans, passing on clandestine messages at the risk of life and limb: they draped the Philippine flag over Grandma's coffin, said a prayer in silence and gave a fitting salute. Two years ago today.

So goes the story of three lives who, in one way or other, intersected at a common platform: a young, wide-eyed boy in the land of plenty, an American volunteer in a former colony, and my Grandma, a product and disciple of the American educational system who, despite her acquired privilege of a life in America as a war vet, chose to remain in Sto. Domingo, Ilocos Sur, to serve her town mates and be our guiding light. At peace they are all now. My heart knows.

Photo credits: GJ composite: 1, 2 | Julia composite jccinnyc | Grandma composite (c) kvilla.08