#5 - Ming Ming

One turf..

Two families..

Three generations..

Four characters..

Headed by Director Steven Patrick C. Fernandez, the Integrated Performing Arts Guild (IPAG) graced the stage with the magnum opus entitled Ming Ming, which  was shown in the Mini-Theater of the MSU-IIT last July 23-28, 2012. My block mates and I had the privilege to watch such marvelous drama by the world-renown resident theater company of our institute as a requirement to our English I class. As for me, I had high expectations for the show since I have watched IPAG presentations since high school, and they haven't failed to meet my expectations at all.

Ming Ming tells about how traditions and maratabat or family pride in the Muslim religion has ran the world of an 18 year old Ming Ming. The play starts with the tonongs or spirits bringing her back from the spirit world to watch her life's collage appear before her. Ming Ming discovers her family's darkest secrets that ran for three generations, her true origin and the reason for her death. The play was hard to understand at first since there were no narrations and the characters spoke their lines fast and not in a responsive manner. The script was written for the readers to piece together, and eventually, it would make sense in the end, that is if you have listened carefully. It was as if there was a continuous time travel as each character spoke for there were signifiers in their lines that would indicate in which generation they belonged. The way the script was presented was exemplary, through it, the viewer would be hooked from the start till the end in order to get the plot's gist.

There were only four characters in the play. First would be Ming Ming, the protagonist, played by Dianne Therese Clemente, R, Ming Ming's mother played by Jean Graciela E. Peñola, I, the grandmother, by Venus Tan, and P, the uncle, by Hobart Savior. As what you might've observed, the character names sum up to RIP Ming Ming. True for in fact the protagonist's character in the whole play was depicted as a spirit. 

The whole play was very Muslim in all its depicted principles, structure of society, as well as the script lines. 

One Muslim tradition which was emphasized in the film was how maratabat  influenced each member of the family to do what they did. To start with the first generation, I, sacrificed her secret love in order to respect her family's imposition to marry the elder brother of her secret love (P). Ironic, isn't it? I wonder how many of us would have allowed ourselves to stick to a marriage that we never wanted in the first place. After all, marriage is a lifetime covenant, but the consequences that came with it were unminded by I in the name of the family. The next generation includes R, Ming Ming's mother who was allowed to go away for college but ended up getting pregnant to her Economics professor instead. Such news was devastating for the family, yet it should be noted that it was never mentioned in the play that never did the family thought that R should get  an abortion. It contrasts very much of how our society  nowadays has dealt with teenage pregnancies, which is, literally, bloody. The third generation now includes Ming Ming,who, like her mother, was allowed to fly on her own to go to college. And still, like her mother, she indulged to all dangerous vices and so she was forced to go back home. From then on, she was locked up in her room, only to be served meals three times a day by a mysterious man which was continuously mentioned in the play as "may nakasuksok na baril ". Ming Ming wasn't able to handle the horrors of the dark room that enclosed her and so one day with a bottle of Valium on one hand and gin on another, the 18 year old girl died silently on the dark room. 

I do not agree of how Ming Ming decided to deal with her horrible situation, although I cannot completely blame her for what she has done. If I were in her place, I would never have kept quite with the suffocating tradition that destroyed my innoncence gradually. But then again and again, she isn't to be blamed, for she has known in all the years of her existence that shame in pride is a sin greater than death. For that, I salute the Muslim community for their undying commitment to their traditions without conditions at all.

Furthermore, I also salute the Integrated Performing Arts Guild for allowing us students to watch such wonderful performing arts presentation, and I definitely await for more plays to come.

#4 - The Geometry Teacher

A cliche of change came into my life not more than two years ago. I was then a junior high school student of the Integrated Developmental School, the "hardest" year, according to the previous batches. Indeed, it was, with all the terrifying subjects involved, including two Math courses; Trigonometry and Geometry. And as for me, the cliche of change came with the latter.

Jude John J. Maña Jr., that was his name. He wore eye-glasses, tall, and always tucked-in his polo every time he went to school. Sir Jude, as he was liked to call by many of his students, was assigned to be our Geometry teacher that year. We didn't like him at all at first, maybe because the subject he handled was just too mind boggling, or just maybe because I was never a Math enthusiast. Moreover, I continued to have a bitter treatment on the subject.  It didn't help that our notebooks were thrown to us every time Sir Jude returned them, and that he did a lot of group activities and gave out endless assignments. To summarize it up, the academic part of the class was exhausting. But in contrast to that, what we truly learned in class was what Sir Jude taught by heart. He shared a lot of his experiences as a child, his disappointments, and how God was all a part of his existence. He never failed to enlighten us with his words, and that actually made all of us get the lighter side of things. That's when things started to get pleasant between Sir Jude and our class, III-Radon. He became more like a father to us, thus we called him Daddy Jude.

June and July swept by, and by August, our first grading exams were scheduled. All of us studied hard on our subjects, most specially on Geometry. I threw all bad vibrations I had for the subject, and instead thought of it as an easy one, mainly because Sir Jude made us think that way.But when I went through the exams, it was far from what I studied at all, and I panicked for I really can't afford to fail an exam. I promised myself to complain to Sir why he hasn't warned us of all those things that popped up in the exam. A soon as I was done, I marched straight to the Math Department, and it was there that I learned that Sir Jude was hospitalized for a few days then at the Intensive Care Unit of a nearby hospital. I was completely baffled by the news, and so were my classmates after I had told them. We last saw Sir Jude on July 29,2010,which was a quiz day, so our last meeting wasn't really pleasant. We inquired further about our Sir's conditions and we found out that our teacher had a surgery on another hospital days before and acquired an infection. The infection got worse; the virus had spread throughout his bloodstream and eventually, he was in a coma. The news caused a heartbreak to all of his "children". We never got to see him on campus a week after that, but my classmates and I agreed to visit him every after classes in the hospital. And when we got there, all we saw on that small white room were these tubes and IV lines all connected to our Sir's body. The first thing that I noticed was that Sir had gotten 'fat'. His cheeks got big, and so were the rest of his body. He was only breathing through a medical ventilator, and his eyes were always closed. His skin was pale, like all life was drained out of him.  Still, it gave us hope to see his chest moving in rhythm with the machine he was connected to. Tears poured out of our eyes unconsciously when we stared at our poor Sir's condition. Who would ever thought that this man, who was a very energetic one, could end up bed ridden? We prayed and prayed ,along with the senior students who were also under Sir Jude, that our Daddy would get well soon , and he'd be back to his usual classes once again. For consecutive nights, all I could ever think of doing was to pray for my Geometry teacher's recovery, and fast. It was sort of awkward talking to God then, for I always forget to pray before I sleep. But even so, I prayed wholeheartedly, and it was never like anything I've done before in my whole life. I wasn't prepared to lose Daddy Jude now, not ever. But I knew he was in the brink of it, and all of my prayers were already asking for a miracle.

The next time we went, we wrote a letter for our Sir saying, or more likely, ordering him to get back to school and teach us the lessons because we were falling behind. Sir Jude's wife, Maam Yani read the letter to our teacher, and according to her, Sir Jude laughed. We had high hopes then that sir was getting well, and so we went home with a positive mood. But on August 12,2010, the only day on which my classmates and I agreed not to go because we had tons of requirements at school, at exactly 4:50 pm, Daddy Jude passed away after several heart attacks while undergoing a dialysis.

All we could do then was cry so hard and hugged each other after hearing of such loss. I prayed deeply that night , and asked God of why He took Sir Jude away from us on a time when we longed for him the most. Why now when he hasn't  left a single child to his wife? Why take away the good people when there are in fact a lot of people who don't deserve to live?  The prayers for the nights that followed were long and emotional, and I never failed to wet my pillow every night.

Sir Jude was scheduled to be buried on August 15th , and all sections went to the 1st mass service for him, with  III-Radon as the only 'baby' section. We were allowed to see him for the last time in the coffin which was positioned at the front. He still looked like what we last saw of him on the hospital, only this time, he has make up on and a Barong Tagalog. After a days of vigil, we offered our last prayers at the Ma. Cristina Gardens Chapel. The coffin was slowly lowered and white roses went along with it.

I could still remember how hollow my heart felt at that time. Yet, at that very moment, I understood the reason why Daddy came in and out of my life. Through him, I learned to pray wholeheartedly; to be grateful for every moment that I live; of every moment my heart beats. I understood the real meaning of prayers; it will always connect you to God in all unimaginable ways, and  you can always be assured that He hears your prayers. The answers will be hard to understand at first, but you will, at His time. Moving forward, my memory of Sir Jude now only involves a man with a tucked-in polo with a huge grin permanently stuck on his face. I will never forget the things he taught me, be it about Math or real life, all of it made me thankful of why I live today. I have never failed to pray before sleeping since then. Farewell, Daddy Jude John J. Maña Jr.! Till we meet again! :)

Maam Yani with us, Sir Jude's children, during their 6th Wedding Anniversary (c) Harvey Apal

#3 - Unforgettable? Yes, Sweet? No

If someone so precious to you departs, no description could express how engraved you could get. The feelings could somehow be like watching that person remain in an unknown island while you stand on the ship's deck  shouting frantically for that person to climb on the moving ship and be with you.But he doesn't, simply because the waters separating you are so deep, the fog is thickening and the ship is already dragging you away. And as for the story, "The Sweet Unforgettable Day", the author's grief is somewhat the same.

She wasn't given the opportunity to actually grieve for her Mother's death, evident by the calm tone of the narration even though death was spoken of. Thank God both my parents are still alive, and so are my Abuelito and Abuelita, and I couldn't even stand to think of losing either of them. And when it happens someday, I know I would cling onto anything that would remind me of their presence, be it their dress, image or scent. And I believe, that lead for the characters in the story to have "felt" their mother's presence in the story. When you are desperate for a familiar feeling to rush onto you, in this case, the familiar feeling of her Mom still around, even the most unlikely resemblance of that feeling will be translated into something of the like. For all we know, that scent might be something else, but she claims it to be her mother's, and we can never contradict her enough, for we weren't the ones who experienced the loss. And maybe, this might also explain the controversial "support" of the family to their servants' wedding. The need for a break from mourning was clearly in demand, and so maybe the Father thought it wasn't such a bad idea.

Death shouldn't be feared in the first place, if you know where you'll spend your eternity in. But the pain of those we leave behind just couldn't be defined or expressed in any way. And so, they fear it. Life becomes one piece less complete, but the path goes on.

#2 - This Part of Me

I believe it is just right to say that the hardest and most difficult person to analyze would be your own self. While describing other people can be as easy and as quick by giving them a single glance, knowing oneself goes a long way. Your knowledge about other people is as limited as how well you know them, how long you've known them ,and how frequent you are together. But as for knowing yourself, things get oddly true. You might just start to define yourself with your limitations, assests, fears or strengths, but then another part of you pops up that you weren't aware of before, and you know yourself again. And then, you start to realize, setting a definition for your whole existence now is just plain impossible.

Even so, I'm more than glad to write about how well I know myself as of the moment(since I failed to do so in my previous posts). So, Hi! My name is Dinah Pearl S. Madelo, 16 years of age, currently a freshman of the Mindanao State University - Iligan Insitute of Technology, my second home for about 4 years now, since I spent my high school years at the Integrated Developmental School. I currently reside at Tubod, Iligan City.  Why my parents named me Dinah is within the jurisdiction of a baby book, while Pearl is my Mama's birthstone. She gave birth to me on that fateful night of February 25th at the year 1996 in Iligan City, and just like that, a child of Mr. Gilbert and Mrs. Mitchelene Madelo came to the world. Before you get any ideas of me being the only bundle of joy in my family, I should stop you right there. I have three other siblings, the eldest, Dannielle Paige, my younger brother, Dexter Paul and our baby sister, Daphne Pritz. The reason behind the trend of using D's and P's is something I'm not aware of, and my parents doesn't have a concrete explanation either. Anyway, moving forward, I grew to become a bubbly, loud, yet a critical minded young lady. I've spent most of my years with my grandparents due to unfavorable circumstances, but more or less, it made me into what I am today.

Surely enough, my flaws include paranoia, insecurity and anxiety which I get most of the time. I have this need of having to be in control of situations, and that's why I try my to do my best in everything. I like to challenge myself every time, and so my habit of reading books was born. My love for reading has lead me to become more interested in learning new stuff anywhere I go, and apply those what I've learned in true situations. Hence, another hobby was born out of it and that is watching National Geographic Channel documentaries every chance I get even in the wee hours of the night. Don't get me wrong, I'm not a science geek, I just happen to be so curious about anything underneath the sun, and the sun itself too. I also love collecting Danielle Steel books, a hobby I inherited from my Mom, simply because I just can't get enough of her novels. From this point, one could actually point out that my likes lay with communication skills and literary stuff, and therefore, my future has to do something with it. Uhmm, no. The curricular program I'm taking right now are like dimensions apart. I'm an Electronics and Communications Engineering student, not sure entirely what future I'd get soon, maybe because I'm not really good in Math, but most definitely, I'll make the most out of it. My dream of being a productive electronics engineer will be achieved in no time, for I have my Mama, Papa, Mommy and Daddy as my pillars of inspiration to get going in the right track as I have for the past 16 years. And so far, I believe that they are proud of what I have achieved.

Fulfilling dreams in life starts with knowing what your heart desires. As for me, what I know about myself has lead to continuously persevere in order to not lose sight of my goal. Just think right, do right, and things will follow. More or less.

#1-I Stopped Saying "Thank You Mama & Papa"

I ought to share why it took me a long time to come up with this post. You see, it is very unlikely of me to comply with a school requirement just a few days before it was due since I kissed procrastination goodbye back in high school. First of all, I didn't exactly have the time to do or think about it, and second, I didn't know what to write about. Sure, the topic sounds easy, but actually, as I'm encoding this right now, the  title bar only reads, "I Stopped Saying ..". My mind is filled with thoughts yet not one of those thoughts seem to satisfy what I want to write about. While I'm sitting in front of the computer, I pause to think every now and then, trying to get my ideas together.  Confusing is the word. But still, I will try to end this post.

Maybe, if was still the reckless and mapawalang-bahalang Dinah I was then, I wouldn't have a hard time writing this post. You can say that I was mindless of the people around me back then, therefore I can easily conclude who I have forgotten to thank to. Other people's actions were nothing to be mindful about, be it my Mama, Papa, Mammy or Daddy. (I call my grandparents the latter.) My thoughts drag me back to Prosperidad, Agusan Del Sur, my Papa's hometown . The place is very much what we, at the urban city would like to refer as "bukid". Life was tough for my parents when they struggled to survive living in Iligan for a few years, but then, it wasn't what was to be. We transferred to Agusan ,and at that time, it was only me and my ate Dannielle as my parent's little bundles of joy. So we packed up our bags, got ready for a 10-hour travel, and arrived at the bukid. The house wasn't that small but it wasn't that attractive either, or at least, that's what I remember 10 years ago. My sister  didn't stay long at the bukid, since my grandparents came and negotiated things about her schooling. My parents still had a hard time making ends meet, and so Ate was planned to study at Iligan, and as for me, well, I was supposed to stay with Mama and Papa. But then, the toddler Dinah said something ,that up to this day, my Mammy still talks about with watery eyes. She said just right after my papa agreed about leaving me there ,I crawled up to my her and said, "Ako diay mammy? Wa koy uban?" It crushed her heart hearing that from a 5-year old, and so Mammy replied, "Ayy, uban pud ka ging oi." And off we went to Iligan.

If you did the math, you would know that I have lived with my grandparents longer than I had with my Mama and Papa, and that made me more comfortable having Mammy and Daddy around. Of course we visit Prosperidad every chance we get, but , as what I remember, it wasn't enough to bring me close to my parents. There were blurry images, people that Mammy always said I should love, though I didn't really know who they were back then. But as for my grandparents, they raised Ate and me in the best possible manner. They thought us everything. they are the best models I know,  God knows how much patience they have used just to get us on the right track, and I'll always be thankful for having Mammy and Daddy in my life.Yet, for all of those times, I wasn't mindful of how I should be thankful with what my Papa and Mama  have sacrificed all their lives for Ate and me. I'll never know how many times Mama have cried back at the bukid not being able to experience sending us to school, prepare our lunchboxes, comb our hair, or kiss us goodnight just like any mother would've loved to do with her daughters. And Papa, I'll never be aware of how much he wanted to have Ate and me sitting on his lap after a hard day at work. I never thought of saying thank you to them for all their sacrifices, for all I know, they might just be waiting for us to say it, but I didn't, because I wasn't used to them. I can only imagine how things were so difficult for my parents,and maybe a little "Tenk yoo ma" and "Tenk yoo pa" was just exactly what they needed.

Contary to the post's title, my realization to these engagements were long applied. I have been saying thank you to Mama and Papa for every little thing they do, because I want them to know how much I appreciate their concern, efforts and sacrifices just to make things better for me and my siblings. I know they would do just anything to make sure our future would never be like what they had experienced. I'll never forget how my papa replied when I said thank you to him for bringing home pan last summer. He said, with one of his rare smiles, "Alangan, anak. Love gud tamo."

Online Education

With the rising influence of technology in our daily routine, it is not of a great issue that it has breached the educational or academic world. In fact, it has long been anticipated, and surely and fairly enough, it has helped educators in achieving their goal of educating their students. 

It is then very accurate to state that online education is very effective and helpful for students to learn and understand their lessons. Obvious as it is, this generation's teenagers prefer to spend hours of surfing than read books for a couple of minutes. In fact, the internet is one of the reasons why students fail to develop or improve their study habits and turn to the computer instead. Well, here is where online education comes in. With enculcating learning to the internet (which teenagers crave the most),students are more interested to participate because of the idea that it is 'online'. It doesn't sound boring and gray to us anymore. And so we are more than willing to check it out even in the wee hours of the night. Portability is another admirable factor about online education. Just a Wi-Fi connection, and you are just a click away from the virtual world, It solves the problem of lacking tools for the students to be able to accomplish their homeworks. 

Needless to say, online education lifted learning to new heights. It made school develop along with the advancement of time. As long as  internet usage is limited to positive use , with disclipline and limitation, then how harmful could it be?