It Pays to Choose Your Flowers

As I walked along the sidewalk near E-mall, going towards Novo to buy my daily necessities (footpowder,earbuds etc.) on a typical afternoon, I remembered my good friend's advice to me, which immediately set a time warp, creating a wormhole through my brain.

The recall goes like this:
ME: Ani! ok raba kaha kung muhatag kug buwak nia? I mean ok rman cguro kai meju ok naman amu tagad.
HER: Ok keo moi! sus Valentines btaw ron.
ME: Nya saputon nya to? basin makalitan ba nya malain napud cia. Kapui bia sad hehe.
HER: Ok ra lagi!
ME: Sure? Bntai ha salig ku sa imung nakita hehe.

..A series of teases follows..


I immediately had an idea; I like to pick a rose, a long-stem rose that is, on a box. Any kind of rose will do as long as it is of good quality. But color wise, I'd prefer carnation over red, it looks cleaner than the scarlet ones. I thought of an immediate imaginary excerpt, that my flower will send a "message" that "it is best to give a one-stem flower over a bouquet, for a bouquet signifies that a man can give everything, but in such way that is small and short; it signifies an attitude towards small and easy things, while a long-stemmed flower ( in this case a rose) signifies that a man might give someone less than expected, but shows more of being assertive and erect; A man that has focus and knows what (or who) he's dealing with. Besides, one-stem flowers are cheaper than bouquets, lol.

So, I walked across USJR to Freedom to search for this special thing. I did haggle wars with the vendors to no avail, and the flowers are a bit mediocre. The plastic box intended for the flowers are nowhere to be found; they were sold out earlier as what the vendors said. But I didn't give up.

I walked downtown towards a flower shop, but all I can do is to ogle on those lovely flowers. The price tag was quite high, not enough for my limited budget. Remembering several flower shops near USC, I tried my luck. So I chanced upon a certain shop that makes good plastic cases with ribbons but its not the container I like, for what I need is a box. Besides, their flowers are not that good. 

Later I stumbled upon another shop near Jollibee, They have good flowers, good containers but the containers are messy (with glitters and all); It's a cylinder with a flower in it. I like the idea but hell, why would I want to give something messy?

So what I did is that I choose a flower; The longest stem of the bunch ( I think) with its carnation bud still in a still-born trance. The next thing I did was to assemble a wrap around it, so I go back to the first shop and render it's wrapping skills. It cost me 80PHP (seventy for the flower, ten for the wrap) which looks like a rose that might cost you 300PHP. Pasensya, tihik jud ko hehe..

At 7:30PM (today) I mustered my courage and went to her place, the "recipient". I gave my flower, smiled..and said:"Happy Valentines".Her expression is a bit funny; at first after receiving my rose, she immediately went to her room, then seconds later, she went out saying "Happy Valentines sad! Thanks!" Her friends are present, especially the one I collaborated with. Jokes and teasing commenced and we had a funny evening after that.

It's a good feeling, really. It pays to choose your flowers! 
Happy Valentines Day

Freedom By Death: RIP Lolong

               Photo: Ann Cabras

8:05PM Today

Lolong died in captivity, confirmed by Bunawan, Agusan Del Sur Mayor. Lolong is said to be the largest crocodile in captivity.

9:15 PM

I saw a post on facebook about this sad news of Lolong's death. I thought it was a hoax but it seem unlikely, for the one who posted it is my friend, a member of A.C.E (Aquatic Cebu Enthusiast) and has ties in Agusan Del Sur. After scrolling over for details, it was confirmed that Lolong had just died. A tweet from Matanglawin team also confirmed about Lolong's death. It is indeed a sad news to the animal kingdom and to us, especially to me, who never paid a visit of admiration to the innocent beast.

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The saltwater/estuarine crocodile (Crocodylus porosus) is an opportunistic apex predator capable of taking nearly any animal that enters its territory, either in the water or on dry land. They have also been known to attack humans who enter the crocodiles territory. Juveniles are restricted to smaller animals such as insects,amphibians, crustaceans, small reptiles and fish. The larger the animal grows, the greater the variety of animals it includes in the diet, although relatively small prey make up an important part of the diet even in adults. 

Generally very lethargic – a trait which helps it survive months at a time without food – it typically loiters in the water or basks in the sun through much of the day, preferring to hunt at night. Capable of explosive bursts of speed when launching an attack from the water, many species of crocodile are also capable of fast land-movement. Many crocodiles are capable of explosive charges that can carry them nearly as fast as a running human. The 23 species of crocodilian can travel over land using the belly crawl, the walk, the high-walk, and the gallop.

Source: Wikipedia
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For how Lolong died is still unclear. Lolong's captor and caretaker, E. Aguillon, treated his wounds caused by the tightened rope bound on his body during capture. This presumably affected the crocodile on a long-term basis, adding stress to the already stressed animal. Also, the arrival of the typhoon Pablo might as well added another weight on Lolong's already stressed state. Considering saltwater crocodiles as placid and lethargic, they would just sink off to the bottom of the marsh, breathing when it's necessary while submerged, if the temperature outside is cold (especially if it is a typhoon) to conserve energy since they need heat from the sun to bask , which the absence of it will cause the animal to slow down. Lolong's controlled environment, (in this case, a caged pond) lacks everything that the marsh (his former home) provides, exposing him to the elements that might (or will) render his health and stress.

Why would Lolong end up there in the first place? To guarantee his safety against the public that lives in the area. Lolong has this reputation to eat children (though it is not confirmed), instilling fear on the people that lived there. But to sum it up, the people in Agusan marsh should only consist of the Manobo tribe, which is the only minority that accepted the fact of predator-prey relationship of crocodiles and men. However, both the Manobos and the crocodiles face a new predator; the outsiders, who started enroaching the area for resources. 

Sometimes I wonder, what would be the future of Agusan Marsh. Do we need another Lolong to sacrifice for this already-form-of-sacrilege to nature? He might be an abomination of nature, but Lolong is just an animal. I wonder if the most intelligent animal on earth would appreciate such innocence, or rather, continue to follow its "instinct" of insatiable greed.

Yes, I'm talking about us, humans. 

Rest in Peace Big Croc.

Where's the essence of Teaching?

On a global basis, teaching is spreading one's will, may it be technical or by experience, to 'hungry' individuals of both the new and the old generations. The insatiable hunger for knowledge and the ever-changing world pushes individuals to education.

However, in our state (Philippines), education is thought as a necessity, a drive to achieve greater goals by earning a degree and landing a good job.I can't help but scrutinize in silence, the people who attend seminars to 'collect' certificates that they might not need in the future, but not paying attention to the exact content of why they are there in the first place. But let's not stray off to the topic; instead lets try to dig in deeper.

Education, where teachers act as the mediator of the subject and the students act as the recipient of it. Teachers are said to be our second parents in class. We were suppose to learn many great things from them, both tangible and intangible. Things we can apply in our day-to-day activities, and things we can invest for future use (career).

But what does a teacher do? In elementary, they serve as our guide; our mentors to get us equipped before entering higher forms of education. Secondary school teachers serves as our mold in developing the skills we need in choosing a path to tread after graduation. College professors act as our mentors on specific field of interest on the chosen career of a certain individual.

Yet, the dilemma here is this: When exactly can you call teaching as 'teaching'? As I about to graduate with my degree of choice, I feel 4 years of my lifetime wasted by this one individual. A professor of management. Sometimes I wonder what's the difference between a regular school employee and a professor of knowledge every time I enter her class. Her methods are quite unorthodox; unprofessional and has attitude towards her students even to her colleagues and coaches by the book- Literally, if you know what I mean. In my sponge years I never thought that there are still teachers like her who lacks vindication to her line of work. Or perhaps on the long line of my educators, I failed to see one as corrupt as this professor.

Just imagine, one out of 5 classes in every department, in every school across the nation has this type of individual, "teaching" as they think they are. I can't help but pity the students under such tutelage, creating individuals as automatons for the industry of their choice. I, on my side, is forced to learn by my own despite the money I paid for education, which my parent's worked hard to earn.

Where's the essence? What is education if not, for education?

They say, poverty is the main problem why our nation suffers; some said its the corruption of the government. But we see these things too in smaller scale, right?

 We can end this torment if we were thought discipline in our early stages of education. Most people are even deprived of it, or rather, not resorted to such cause it may just be a nuisance to what they practice.

Our Education is the problem, not poverty, not corruption.We see education as salvation from poverty, and we are "taught" to perceive it that way. 

Where's the essence of teaching? 

-I hope this serves as an eye opener.-

The Way of The Sword

We often watch slasher movies for entertainment, particularly anything that portrays wielding swords and roaring battle cries. Sometimes we love to watch skull splits and blood splatters; piercing arrows and penetrating spears.
Gruesome as it seems, people tend to focus on the thrill they get when someone is killed brutally and not on the essence of why the film is shot in the first place. But we all have individual misgivings, I guess.

This thought of mine comes from my love of samurai films and the bushido code. The term samurai originally meant "those who serve in close attendance to nobility", while the bushido code means "the way of the warrior". 
(wikipedia) The samurai, per se, refers to a specific military class tracing from the pre-industrial period of Japan. 

What urged me to admire these people is that of their undaunted discipline towards everything they do or the craft have passion to. For instance, a religious samurai would spent his entire day chanting the mantra of Buddha; while a sword master would make his early exercises of sword and skill daily, in order not to dull his techniques. It is also evident in samurai families to practice this kind of discipline; entering an abode requires a bow of respect for its inhabitant's ancestors and a simple brew of tea requires intricate skill of preparation.

Coal hard discipline, honorable defeat,mastery of craft and preservation of lore. These are the things I lack, for I am driven with fear and despair. Warriors empty their mind to deliver swift blows to the enemy as well as to think of verses to write to their haiku. These things I wish to absorb as I watch these movies and admire their craft. Hopefully, my generation would become the modern Samurai of today, if only these principles and codes are seeded in our brains.

One thing I learned in watching these films is that their codes are followed religiously; principles defended with an iron grip; honor conveyed, but in the end of the day, in the eyes of the enemy, in the eyes of every problems we encounter, it is best to follow the way of the sword.

Thrust forward, or perish in dishonor. Die fighting, or live the life of sorrow.

An Ode to Hate: Reasons are Deaf

Reasons to shout
-Words flying
Reasons to worry
-Words so deafening

Bitter and cold
-Your heart whispered something
Lies were forged
-All meant nothing

Black as death
-My heart regret
Chill as ice
-You'll never forget

Please forgive me
-I'm sick of you
Please release me
-I hate you

Hate my attitude
-Said by her
I love you
-Heard no one ever

Sick and tired
-Full of regret
Hate incurable
-Will this ever end?

I'm angry
-So is you
Our hearts expand
-Deaf anew

Words define
-All is worse
Please hear me
-It gets worst

Kicked in the balls
-I tremble and scream
Twice not once
-Slapped in a whim

Fingers pointed
-I murmur in dismay
What was that again?
-Not gonna join the fray

Relationship worsens
-Care to sway?
Words unspoken
-Words decay

I'd love to talk
-Never again
Please listen
-What would I gain?

Cold as death
-You treat me as such
Demonic victory
-Thank you very much

It's just a phase
-Hoping for the best
Let's start anew
-Walk in a tempest

-J.Cruz

It's so good in SOGOD

Happy Fiesta! Pit Senyor!

-These were the phrases shouted on a feverish Sinulog-driven, Sunday 20^th of January. I recall thinking about joining tomorrow’s trip north of Cebu, while strolling inside the mouth of the beast; the horde infested with wasted individuals, along the long street towards cabanas/baseline. I thought, if I ever get out alive (and not wasted), I might be able to arrive on time, set for tomorrow’s trip (which eventually, I failed to do so). Bottles and booze fly all over me while my mind is bent on something else. Sometimes I laugh at myself in silence; I must be really ‘fun’ at parties, the introvert within me kicks and cries.

I arrived home, 2:50am and barely slept an hour, for my eyes were stillborn. The rendezvous time in North bus terminal was supposedly 5:00am, and I woke up at 6:00am! Luckily, all of my travel buddies were in the same predicament as mine; all tired and experiencing individual hangovers from yesterday’s event. We departed, I guess, 8:35am from North Bus terminal via Ceres Bus. I was not sure if it was exactly the time set for the trip or was it a special trip, for we barely spent time checking on ‘time’. We arrived at Carmen bus stop, 9:45am, to relieve ourselves from hunger and thirst. Passing Catmon, my mind switch from blank to full capacity, for I sense a slight negativity present on that place. Flashbacks started to rewind at the back of my mind, and it was painful (physically, I felt a slight ‘crawling’ feeling at my arteries near my ears). For what it is, I wish not to tell, since it was something personal.

A dog in Poblacion Public Market

 

An evidence that northern Cebuanos wore friendly smiles

Nevertheless, it was a sign that we were close. We passed Poblacion, Sogod at 10:20am. We got down the bus at Brgy. Bagatayam and went on our friend’s granny; her house situated near the main road, a walking distance from Bagatayam Falls. From there, we rest for at least half an hour before we started walking our way  1-2 km from her granny’s place going to the market to buy food. Along the way, we stopped at the bridge to get a glimpse of what we were after; our quarry located almost on a spitting distance from the road!

At the market, I took off my camera to take photographs of people and things. A certain kind of fish caught my attention. It’s obviously a specie of half-beak fish but larger. In our place near the shores, we call them “Tawilis” but they were smaller compared to these fishes in the market. Out of curiosity, I ask what they call these fishes. They replied “Pilangan mana sa amoa”. My tummy, as curious as my head, urged me to buy ¼ kilo of these fishes for 45php. Since I didn’t find any delicacy present in Sogod, I might as well eat these fish a la sugba in order to not disappoint my ever hungry stomach since the fish was new to me. We got home to where we stayed via tricycle. At the place, we prepared Kilawin, Sinugbang isda and La-maw for the coconut there was freshly harvested by my friend.

You know it's fresh when it doesn't reek of fish :p

We took off from the place via Habal-habal for a discounted price of 15php. It was past noon that time, for we arrived 2:30pm+ at Binaliw Cold Springs, the repository of Bagatayam falls, to eat lunch. We therefore sampled the area for a dip and played a game of coin-locating along the cold stream that lasted at least an hour. We then packed our bags and started trekking towards the falls. Along the way, we were bothered by the inaccessibility of the stream, which in my assessment, is ½ of the entire stream. So we took a side trip towards near civilization and hit the dirt road. We arrived at Bagatayam falls 3:45pm and I took photos of the falls from the side angle, for the water flows ‘fatter’ if I shoot at the side. Following a certain protocol, I shot both landscape and portrait view of the falls. We then took a cottage located downstream and took our last dip. We drank our baon na lapad and shared stories, hitting almost 5:00pm of the afternoon. We got home dark; took showers and changed clothes then we head towards the city, hearts contented and minds fulfilled.

It’s so good in SOGOD. ~

Ciao

-j.cruz

In comitatu lupórum

Adrift in the sea of thoughts,
I ponder how I should describe my essence in it's present state.

I have been gloomy all this time,
thinking and thinking on things worth living.
Wounded by despair and anxiety, my soul is famished.

Still, I wonder, what might urged me to do things
that will describe me as someone loathsome?

Still, I wonder why I deserved to be called as such,
yet I don't see anything good from someone who called me as such.

 Shall I taunt her hatred by being pitiful in her eyes? 

Or should I rather sulk on a corner and mumble in content.

 I don't want to talk anymore, for I'm afraid of what I might say.

Going on a paradox, my mind has been. 

It sound like straight from that of a jedi master,
but it's all I can process in.

My thoughts were weary, my brain goes blank. 

Every time I think of escaping, I only feed fear. 

But why am I talking about feeding in the first place? 

Why am I talking at random? 

Without context, without concrete lines. 

It is because I'm famished, my soul is hungry. 

I feel empty.

To feed such hunger I drift, like a vagabond, on places I'm not familiar with.

To cure such pain, I learn to cast aside the ever threatening past;
never to haunt me again.

For this day, I will drift along people I barely knew.
For this day,I will be at their side.

For this day onward, I pledge my rebirth.

All in line, in the company of wolves.

-j.cruz