A sleepy HJPP woke up in the morning today from the sound of the howling wind. She watched as maya birds smashed onto the glass window just beside her bed. She worried that the rain might enter and drown her papers and books that were temporarily on the floor (too many readings, too little space). However, she felt so thankful, so blessed that the shelter was sturdy enough to keep the whole household safe.
She sat up on the bed and watched as the winds blew rain water as if blowing sand. The wind was so strong that even birds could not race against it. HJPP laughed as birds were thrown onto the window. It was a funnier than watching fish bump their faces onto the glass surface of an aquarium.
The rest of the morning was spent cleaning the living room. Afterwards, she read contemporary Chinese short stories. Having read Chinese short stories gave a strange feeling.
Anything Chinese felt so familiar yet also so distant nowadays. It clearly was unlike the old days. She wondered how much a bicultural identity crisis could affect her life, or her writing. She's always considered herself Filipino, but history and eveything else proved otherwise. Identity will remain a touchy subject.
The book was lovely though. It reminder her so much of a province far away from here. She's only ever been there twice, but the memory lingers.
She met a dude there, a childhood sweetie. His name is RDL1. Today, upon learning that RDL1 had a twin, she banged her head on a desk. Well, they didn't look alike. How unfortunate. He has a twin brother named RDL2, younger by a few minutes.
In every stage of her life, it seems, she meets an important guy. RDL1 from childhood, JSA1 from pre-teenage, and now KHJ1. These important men come with a twin sibling.
KHJ1 is a brother's namesake. He has a twin brother, KHJ2, who is a seminarian. They're cool brothers (no pun). JSA1 and JSA2 are neighbors and running buddies of HJPP. They're both engineering students and are so good at math that it makes her want to cry. RDL1 relates to her in everything. That was how they started out as friends. Many years ago in a faraway province, they kissed among tall uncut grass--well, they were barely five and too childish to comprehend what coupleship meant, but if childhood sweeties were to count as actual boyfies, he would have made the first and only one.
Today, HJPP got into an actual fight with KHJ1. It was hell.
Wednesday, July 16, 2014
Tuesday, July 15, 2014
8.2
Although arrogant and careless HJPP scored top 5 in a midterm exam in a finance subject, she felt so humiliated, so demeaned for just one shallow thing: FAFA scored higher.
HJPP solved problems with great speed, and FAFA had always asked for her help. In fact, many of her classmates asked for her help. They would text her and call her up the night before the test just to ask her to explain things. Come exam time, HJPP was confident--too arrogantly confident that she made sure to submit the exam booklet thirty minutes before the rest of the exam time ended.
Many of her classmates remarked with "WOW, tapos ka na???"
HJPP, arrogant as always, replied with a "Yup, dali lang!"
When results came out today, the arrogant one got a 90 percentile. FAFA got a 96.
HJPP heard FAFA say, "Yes!!! I'm higher than HJPP!"
HJPP frowned in dismay and humiliation. A really important lesson was learned today--that grades mean nothing if one's character is rotten. HJPP dared to change that side of herself today.
HJPP solved problems with great speed, and FAFA had always asked for her help. In fact, many of her classmates asked for her help. They would text her and call her up the night before the test just to ask her to explain things. Come exam time, HJPP was confident--too arrogantly confident that she made sure to submit the exam booklet thirty minutes before the rest of the exam time ended.
Many of her classmates remarked with "WOW, tapos ka na???"
HJPP, arrogant as always, replied with a "Yup, dali lang!"
When results came out today, the arrogant one got a 90 percentile. FAFA got a 96.
HJPP heard FAFA say, "Yes!!! I'm higher than HJPP!"
HJPP frowned in dismay and humiliation. A really important lesson was learned today--that grades mean nothing if one's character is rotten. HJPP dared to change that side of herself today.
Monday, July 14, 2014
8.1
True story: HJPP (my fictional name henceforth) lost a dear good friend today. He did not die. She just turned him invisible, the way the US turned the Philippines invisible from their history.
Yet another true story: Daydreamy HJPP almost forgot to go down the right train station today. With a messed up head, she had the weirdest realization that trains were no different from elevators, except that they moved sideways and elevators upwards/downwards. Either supermachine squished people inside all together and had scary doors.
HJPP hated commuting. The train stations always smelled like urine and garlic breath, even when not much people were in it.
Upon arriving home, the rain fell. She was glad, though, that warm monggo soup was for dinner. HJPP raged when her sister said that F. Sionil Jose looked like Jabba the Hutt.
On the toilet seat, HJPP read KHJ1's hate mail on the smartphone. She didn't know what to feel or say. In response to the hate mail, she decided that the better thing to do is that they ignore each other for good.
"Let's...ignore (no interaction, don't even say hi) each other and keep playing invisible until we forget that we had ever met," HJPP said that night.
There was no response to that. The truth is that KHJ1 fell asleep while chocking up a message to reply with. Many hours after, at midnight, he accidentally pressed the "send" button while dreaming.
Yet another true story: Daydreamy HJPP almost forgot to go down the right train station today. With a messed up head, she had the weirdest realization that trains were no different from elevators, except that they moved sideways and elevators upwards/downwards. Either supermachine squished people inside all together and had scary doors.
HJPP hated commuting. The train stations always smelled like urine and garlic breath, even when not much people were in it.
Upon arriving home, the rain fell. She was glad, though, that warm monggo soup was for dinner. HJPP raged when her sister said that F. Sionil Jose looked like Jabba the Hutt.
On the toilet seat, HJPP read KHJ1's hate mail on the smartphone. She didn't know what to feel or say. In response to the hate mail, she decided that the better thing to do is that they ignore each other for good.
"Let's...ignore (no interaction, don't even say hi) each other and keep playing invisible until we forget that we had ever met," HJPP said that night.
There was no response to that. The truth is that KHJ1 fell asleep while chocking up a message to reply with. Many hours after, at midnight, he accidentally pressed the "send" button while dreaming.
Sunday, July 13, 2014
7.7
I'll probably have to imagine myself today to have been like a "Giselle" character, a girl who died of a broken heart.
First, I woke up from a nightmare. My nervous breakdown continued until the morning. Hence, I cried on my desk before going on with my usual morning routine. After crying, I got dressed and did whatever I had to do for the day.
The latter part of the morning was spent in church. After church, I drove to another church to have a Bible study session while my family and went to SM Aura. They ate ramen without me. :(
I caught up with them at SM Aura to have "tea time." My family would typically look like a very studious bunch on any table. While in any coffee shop or restaurant people only sat down and dined, we kids always had school work with us, and my parents had their books/newspapers/financial documents/contracts. I have no idea why we always brought those things outside with us.
In the afternoon I sent Ho Jae a message before I proceeded with studying. It was compulsory. Ho Jae is a person I talk to about God and the Bible because he always, always understands. I've not yet met anyone who is as patient, understanding, and disciplined as he. He's so disciplined that talking to him makes me feel weak and inadequate.
I also tell him about men I dislike/liked and about my problems involving them. He makes sure I don't stalk [hot] guys' walls because it leads to infatuation which leads to self-destruction. If I do, I owe him coffee for every one stalk. I guess, even if we never talked about not stalking his wall or his brother's wall, those count as well.
Second point in relation to feeling miserable today: he sent me the longest, guilt-laden message ever. He feels too much. I accidentally called his brother "hot" and he didn't like it. Oops, forgot that they were identical. I probably owe him a cup now.
Well, besides my morning hysteria, I didn't really feel all that miserable today at all.
After the drama, I killed the internet and shut my phone off to retract from the rest of the Facebook world. I studied henceforth.
My day ended boringly.
First, I woke up from a nightmare. My nervous breakdown continued until the morning. Hence, I cried on my desk before going on with my usual morning routine. After crying, I got dressed and did whatever I had to do for the day.
The latter part of the morning was spent in church. After church, I drove to another church to have a Bible study session while my family and went to SM Aura. They ate ramen without me. :(
I caught up with them at SM Aura to have "tea time." My family would typically look like a very studious bunch on any table. While in any coffee shop or restaurant people only sat down and dined, we kids always had school work with us, and my parents had their books/newspapers/financial documents/contracts. I have no idea why we always brought those things outside with us.
In the afternoon I sent Ho Jae a message before I proceeded with studying. It was compulsory. Ho Jae is a person I talk to about God and the Bible because he always, always understands. I've not yet met anyone who is as patient, understanding, and disciplined as he. He's so disciplined that talking to him makes me feel weak and inadequate.
I also tell him about men I dislike/liked and about my problems involving them. He makes sure I don't stalk [hot] guys' walls because it leads to infatuation which leads to self-destruction. If I do, I owe him coffee for every one stalk. I guess, even if we never talked about not stalking his wall or his brother's wall, those count as well.
Second point in relation to feeling miserable today: he sent me the longest, guilt-laden message ever. He feels too much. I accidentally called his brother "hot" and he didn't like it. Oops, forgot that they were identical. I probably owe him a cup now.
Well, besides my morning hysteria, I didn't really feel all that miserable today at all.
After the drama, I killed the internet and shut my phone off to retract from the rest of the Facebook world. I studied henceforth.
My day ended boringly.
Saturday, July 12, 2014
7.6
I don't think I could lie about my day. All I did today was study, and that should be boring enough to write/read about. I slept at 9 p.m. yesterday, woke up at around 12 a.m., and then worked all the way. I was being sedentarily productive.
In the middle of studying, at around 10 p.m., I wanted to talk to friends. I messaged Jeremy with "Jer!!!!!!" but he would not reply; so I next turned to Ho Jae who always replied, even if talking to him had always made me feel guilty and awkward.
Besides studying and chatting with Ho Jae, I don't think anything else that happened today could classify as interesting. Oh, Isagani Cruz shared my picture and it got 9 likes. Besides all of those, nothing else really happened interestingly. I didn't even eat. Eating would have been interesting.
Ho Jae was offline. I texted him with "go online!!!!" and then he did. I like that he always did, even if it meant interrupting his schedule. I think I should be more polite next time.
After feeling messed up after the chat, I went back to work. I felt like Ponos, the spirit of hard labor and toil, because I worked the whole day.
I'm realizing how much of the Greek mythology characters/creatures I still do not know, and that is just terrible.
In the middle of studying, at around 10 p.m., I wanted to talk to friends. I messaged Jeremy with "Jer!!!!!!" but he would not reply; so I next turned to Ho Jae who always replied, even if talking to him had always made me feel guilty and awkward.
Besides studying and chatting with Ho Jae, I don't think anything else that happened today could classify as interesting. Oh, Isagani Cruz shared my picture and it got 9 likes. Besides all of those, nothing else really happened interestingly. I didn't even eat. Eating would have been interesting.
Ho Jae was offline. I texted him with "go online!!!!" and then he did. I like that he always did, even if it meant interrupting his schedule. I think I should be more polite next time.
After feeling messed up after the chat, I went back to work. I felt like Ponos, the spirit of hard labor and toil, because I worked the whole day.
I'm realizing how much of the Greek mythology characters/creatures I still do not know, and that is just terrible.
Friday, July 11, 2014
7.5
I arrived at the library a few minutes before the clock struck eight, just for the enjoyment of being earlier than most of the library. I did a homework for one of my subjects there. The homework is due Tuesday next week, but I submitted it at the department at William Hall a while ago just to get things over with. My professor allowed early submissions. When I finished, I went back to the library to read up on my favorite topics.
The bigger chunk of my awesome day was invariably the turnover ceremony of the F. Sionil Jose Collection, a day I had waited the entire week and last month for. An intense researcher of sorts, I snooped around the Collection during its preparation stage this whole week. I helped with the decorating and organizing, mingled with artists, and talked to the daughters of F. Sionil Jose. I enjoyed it so much that I wanted to do more of it today, and so I went up to the twelfth floor at 1 p.m. to help again.
To my astonishment, I saw one friend there. He was arranging books to do his practicum duties. I asked if I could help.
Me: Hey, can I help? c:
Friend: No thanks, I can manage...
Me: Okay... [in my head: Fine, bahala ka...]
I roamed the Collection, took a lot of pictures, and talked to the people around (the librarians, organizers, the daughters--everyone except for my friend because he was boring). I also talked to Regie, the main artist. I asked him questions regarding the design concepts and arrangement of the place. He explained that the arrangement mimicked that of Solidaridad, the actual book shop. The quote on the wall which read "Uni boni tacent, malum prosperat" came from the publication called Solidarity. The Latin phrase meant "In the silence of good, evil prospers." That phrase was used as an epigraph of Solidarity. I knew an adequate amount of information about F. Sionil Jose from stock knowledge and a lot of research because I wrote about him for an essay competition last month. When Regie showed me an actual copy of Solidarity, I teared up, thinking I now hold in my hands...an actual copy of Solidarity. Wow. :">
I joined in some of their conversations on F. Sionil Jose, filling their stories in with stock knowledge of my own. We talked about his hometown, childhood, travels, writing life, etc. I guess it pays to know stuff? Coupled with a little stock knowledge on Philippine history, I remember inserting a topic on the Colorum uprising. Everyone then said "Yeah!!! That was in Pangasinan!" One of them said "I'm so impressed! How do you know so much?" I said, "School," giving a thumbs up, and then everyone laughed. Incidentally, that conversation took place around the long table, and it felt metaphorical. Many years ago in the Solidaridad book shop, I knew that people also used to have great conversations around a similar long table.
An F. Sionil Jose documentary played on a big LCD screen all throughout the afternoon preparation stage. While my friend was on his laptop at the far end of the room, I watched on the big screen, directly in front of it. I had the awesomest privilege of having watched the documentary that early afternoon--and I feel so thankful, so blessed that I had seized that opportunity to watch it, because they did not show it during the main event anymore, strangely enough. They only kept it running while the event transpired.
At 2:45 p.m., Dr. Lua arrived. She went directly to the buffet table to arrange the pika-pika goodies (different kinds of cheese, saltine, small sandwiches, chicken fingers, orange juice, and wine). I approached her and said hi.
Dr. Lua: Serina! You're early! Good yan ah.
Me: Always am!
Me: Can I help? c:
Dr. Lua: (excitedly) yes, sure sure SURE!!! Okay, since you and --- are early and are nicely dressed, why don't you both stand at the door and help welcome the guests?
Me: Okay
Friend: What did Dr. Lua say again?
Me: We stand at the door and welcome guests
We stood at the door and stared awkwardly at each other. A person with laughing tendencies, it was really hard for me to control my laughter. I guess I had made it too awkward for him that he walked to the CR. When he came back in, he walked past the door and toward the other end of the room to his laptop, leaving me at the door. I didn't mind being left alone at the door. When guests came in, I brought them to their seats, shook some hands. Suddenly, F. Sionil Jose arrived. The main librarian hurried to the door to shake his hand. His daughters also went to the door and welcomed him.
One of his daughters took me by the hand, slapped F. Sionil Jose at the shoulder, and said: "Papa! Let me introduce you to Serina! She's the person who's been telling us all about you!" F. Sionil Jose said "Ah ganun ba? Nice to meet you!" He took his cane by his left hand and extended his right hand to shake my hand. I felt incredibly happy. Photographers, people from the press, librarians, and organizers trailed after him; and so did I. I stood at an angle where it was possible to listen to everything he said. I guess he sensed that I was following him around.
When other people went back to minding their own businesses, finally, he sat down on a lonely monoblock chair. I remained at my spot three feet away from his left side and kept watching him. After some time, he looked at me and then called me to come near: "Halika, iha." I thanked the universe. I sat on a cube-like couch beside his monoblock chair, and he began with questions. I brushed feelings of enthrallment and awestrickenness away. I had always wanted that conversation; and because I was already having it, there was no point of feeling giddy or childish any longer. I could only look back to more than five years ago when I had started dreaming of conversations with fine old men. For those thirty minutes, I had lived five, long, crazy diary years of dreaming.
We sat very near the entrance. When guests came in one after another, he would stand up to shake their hands and take pictures with them--I might have photobombed on almost every picture because I never left my seat. After he greeted guests, he sat back down and continued with our conversation. I saw Dr. Lua looking so proudly at us.
FSJ: What are you...(unfinished)
Me: I'm a student
FSJ: No, I mean, what are you studying?
Me: Literature po
FSJ: what do you like to read?
Me: historical fiction po... I read a lot of historical fiction, memoirs, or anywhere I can find historical data
FSJ: what's your forte? do you write poetry? fiction? drama?
Me: I try to write fiction, but I also write poetry
FSJ: mostly what?
Me: fiction
FSJ: Do you write in English or Filipino?
Me: I write in both, but predominantly in English
FSJ: You should write in the language you know best
Me: Sir, why do you write in English?
FSJ: Because history declared that I write in English. That is a question I've been asked very often. If it were not for the Americans, I would probably be writing in Japanese or maybe in German.
Me: Sir, you've been traveling a lot po. How did you manange traveling with a writer's wage? I mean, you've always said it in your essays na walang pera kapag writer. How did you do it?
FSJ: There was always the benefit of writing grants and institutions that subsidized for my travels... Pero mahirap rin talaga, walang pera ang pagiging writer, but it's a very fulfilling and noble career
Me: Sir, how are you able to sustain your writing? You've already written so much, yet here you are, still writing... You even published another article in your column just four days ago. How do you do it?
FSJ: Passion. Without passion, you can't write. You can, but writing won't live and die with you. It's not easy to write, but as a writer you have to have the passion because it's what makes a writer a writer.
Me: How did your writing start?
FSJ: Because of Jose Rizal. Jose Rizal has the greatest influence in my writing. I remember, when I was ten years old, I cried when I read the scene about the two sons of Sisa, Crispin and Basilio. At that young age, I felt outraged by the injustice. Looking back, I think that is the reason why I feel outraged every time there is an injustice.
Me: Ako naman, sir, I cried at grade two during Makabayan, when we learned about the execution of Jose Rizal. I even remember that some of my classmates made fun of it. They played the "shooting" scene for fun. That wasn't right eh, so I got really angry. Na-detention ako nun...
FSJ: Hah?!!! Anong ginawa mo ba?
Me: sinigawan ko po sila... I said "You're all so immature!!! Stop disrespecting our national hero!!!" I got a detention for calling them immature.
FSJ: Hahaha
At some point, Brother Ricky came in. They both shook hands. F. Sionil Jose asked about Brother Ricky's collar. I said hi. We also shake hands.
Me: Hello Brother Ricky...
BR: Hello, how are you?
Me: I'm fine... when are you leaving for Rome?
BR: [he pats my head and smiles nicely] Next month pa, in late August. August 25 or 26.
Me: I've always wanted to go to Rome... and I've read your letters!
BR: Oh really?
Me: Yup. Can I touch your collar?
BR: go ahead. This collar comes from a long tradition of collars from the brothers in Rome.
Me: Wow, interesting
BR: [walks away after F. Sionil Jose takes his seat] sige, good luck with school.
Me: thanks!
When Brother Ricky left, more guests arrived. Because I sat next to him, one of the guests thought that I was F. Sionil Jose's grandchild. During intervals, we continued with our conversation. Oh that was fun.
Me: How did you feel about not winning the Nobel?
FSJ: (there was a change of tone) Wala eh...nothing... I was nominated twice. One was last year. I thought that by last year I was already going to get it. That would have been a really good opportunity. Sayang eh.
Me: Oh... sorry to hear. Can you talk about Solidarity, the book shop, and the art gallery?
FSJ: I'll talk about that later in my lecture. Later.
Me: Why do you write from history?
FSJ: Because tomorrow, today will also be history. I write from a memory.
Me: What in your opinion is the best kind of novel?
FSJ: A novel that gives a person memory. I always tell people that the primary function of a writer is to give a person memory, to help a person go back to the past.
Me: I agree.
FSJ: Wala ka na bang itatanong?
Me: Nope, sir, they're about to begin na kasi.
FSJ: (stands up with his cane and walks to Dr. Lua)
While walking, he was interrogated by some more guests for handshakes and photo-ops. Dr. Lua introduced my classmates to him. He said "Aba at akala ko ba mga sampu silang lit majors?!" Dr. Lua then explained that some were still on the way or late. He asked some of my classmates (Riddick, Anis, Katrina, Andrea) one by one about the topics they were interested in and the writings they did. My classmates answered. When he turned to me, he said "Ah, kausap ko na 'to kanina."
I observed that his speech borrowed anecdotes from many of his essays. They were told in exactly the same manner, and I found it adorable. Most of the anecdotes he shared were familiar ones because I'd already read them from his column and other essays. He finished, however, with a quick note on the opening of his Collection. He said that he turns his memory over to an institution with hopes that when a person visits the manuscripts and memorabilia, a person might remember.
Immediately after the signing of the contract, the ribbon was cut. I rushed from my back-row seat to the ribbon-cutting ceremony at the other end and pushed my way through the crowd and paparazzi to take good shots of every moment of the Collection's ribbon-cutting and after. I felt incredibly stalkeresque and energetic. I followed F. Sionil Jose everywhere, from inside the little room to the larger spaces he would go to to have pictures with guests. I also took pictures of him with guests and promised to upload them (we're friends on Facebook). After my turn as a photographer, I headed to the buffet table where I spoke to more people.
I spoke with Ms. Asuncion David-Maramba and promised to look for her books in the library. She mentioned that she taught in my university for a time and had authored several books. I also spoke with Dr. Vince Gomez.
Vince Gomez: Hi, are you the one doing a study on F. Sionil Jose?
Me: Yes!
VG: Ah, that's great! For how long have you been studying about him?
Me: For four months already.
VG: Oh, good. Are you also studying here?
Me: Yup, third year. (popping a piece of blue cheese into my mouth)
VG: Okay. I'm the person who made all of this possible, from asking F. Sionil Jose to turn over his collection to making arrangements, etc.
Me: Wow, that's amazing. May I know your name, sir? [I felt like spitting the blue cheese out but I couldn't because I was in the middle of a conversation. I had no choice but to swollow the disgusting blue cheese.]
VG: I'm Dr. Gomez
Me: Vince Gomez?
VG: Yes
Me: [in my head: Shucks, kilala ka ng tatay ko] Oh! I'm sorry, I hardly recognize people by face. I usually only know them by name, including many of the writers here...
VG: No, it's fine. At least you know them by name. It's good noh, and how old are you?
Me: I'm 18
VG: Still young. What do you plan to do after college? Do you plan to teach? Study abroad?
Me: I could teach, but I don't teach well, so I could also go to law school or study abroad. I actually used to have so many plans for my life but it gets harder to decide as I get older.
VG: Take it slow, don't rush. It's better to be careful, because that's how you end up somewhere
Me: Yup, okay.
In the middle of that conversation, one of F. Sionil Jose's daughters came with her mother and introduced me to her mother.
Daughter: Mama, this is the girl who's been telling us all about Papa! She was here every day of the week and helped us with the set!
Tita Tessie: What's your name?
Me: I'm Serina
T: You've been here all week?
Me: Yup (I try to avoid the praise/pressure)
T: Thank you for your dedication and for helping them set up!
Me: No, thank you for collating all of his manuscripts! I now have a favorite spot in the library.
Tita: (friendly smile) Have you gotten something to eat?
Me: Yes, tita
The day ended splendidly. Two of F. Sionil Jose's daughter's friends also approached me and asked questions. We all had a picture together. In fact, I had so many pictures taken with people that day that I felt I couldn't touch a camera anymore. One of the friends said "Get your dreams!" I'll definitely heed these words.
I have two Biblical stories in mind: one, the story of a young Jesus sitting among teachers at the temple; and two, the story of Mary sitting at Jesus' feet when He came to their house.
I'd never like to directly compare myself to Jesus, but today's experiences had led to this assimilation. It was refreshing to have been able to convene with older people. For thirty-something memorable minutes, I sat down with F. Sionil Jose and just talked. I loved that part of the day. In my world, I meander about relationships between young girls and older men with whatever kind of relationship conceivable. Strangely, I found myself living inside that meander today. It's something I would do every day if I could.
The bigger chunk of my awesome day was invariably the turnover ceremony of the F. Sionil Jose Collection, a day I had waited the entire week and last month for. An intense researcher of sorts, I snooped around the Collection during its preparation stage this whole week. I helped with the decorating and organizing, mingled with artists, and talked to the daughters of F. Sionil Jose. I enjoyed it so much that I wanted to do more of it today, and so I went up to the twelfth floor at 1 p.m. to help again.
To my astonishment, I saw one friend there. He was arranging books to do his practicum duties. I asked if I could help.
Me: Hey, can I help? c:
Friend: No thanks, I can manage...
Me: Okay... [in my head: Fine, bahala ka...]
I roamed the Collection, took a lot of pictures, and talked to the people around (the librarians, organizers, the daughters--everyone except for my friend because he was boring). I also talked to Regie, the main artist. I asked him questions regarding the design concepts and arrangement of the place. He explained that the arrangement mimicked that of Solidaridad, the actual book shop. The quote on the wall which read "Uni boni tacent, malum prosperat" came from the publication called Solidarity. The Latin phrase meant "In the silence of good, evil prospers." That phrase was used as an epigraph of Solidarity. I knew an adequate amount of information about F. Sionil Jose from stock knowledge and a lot of research because I wrote about him for an essay competition last month. When Regie showed me an actual copy of Solidarity, I teared up, thinking I now hold in my hands...an actual copy of Solidarity. Wow. :">
I joined in some of their conversations on F. Sionil Jose, filling their stories in with stock knowledge of my own. We talked about his hometown, childhood, travels, writing life, etc. I guess it pays to know stuff? Coupled with a little stock knowledge on Philippine history, I remember inserting a topic on the Colorum uprising. Everyone then said "Yeah!!! That was in Pangasinan!" One of them said "I'm so impressed! How do you know so much?" I said, "School," giving a thumbs up, and then everyone laughed. Incidentally, that conversation took place around the long table, and it felt metaphorical. Many years ago in the Solidaridad book shop, I knew that people also used to have great conversations around a similar long table.
An F. Sionil Jose documentary played on a big LCD screen all throughout the afternoon preparation stage. While my friend was on his laptop at the far end of the room, I watched on the big screen, directly in front of it. I had the awesomest privilege of having watched the documentary that early afternoon--and I feel so thankful, so blessed that I had seized that opportunity to watch it, because they did not show it during the main event anymore, strangely enough. They only kept it running while the event transpired.
At 2:45 p.m., Dr. Lua arrived. She went directly to the buffet table to arrange the pika-pika goodies (different kinds of cheese, saltine, small sandwiches, chicken fingers, orange juice, and wine). I approached her and said hi.
Dr. Lua: Serina! You're early! Good yan ah.
Me: Always am!
Me: Can I help? c:
Dr. Lua: (excitedly) yes, sure sure SURE!!! Okay, since you and --- are early and are nicely dressed, why don't you both stand at the door and help welcome the guests?
Me: Okay
Friend: What did Dr. Lua say again?
Me: We stand at the door and welcome guests
We stood at the door and stared awkwardly at each other. A person with laughing tendencies, it was really hard for me to control my laughter. I guess I had made it too awkward for him that he walked to the CR. When he came back in, he walked past the door and toward the other end of the room to his laptop, leaving me at the door. I didn't mind being left alone at the door. When guests came in, I brought them to their seats, shook some hands. Suddenly, F. Sionil Jose arrived. The main librarian hurried to the door to shake his hand. His daughters also went to the door and welcomed him.
One of his daughters took me by the hand, slapped F. Sionil Jose at the shoulder, and said: "Papa! Let me introduce you to Serina! She's the person who's been telling us all about you!" F. Sionil Jose said "Ah ganun ba? Nice to meet you!" He took his cane by his left hand and extended his right hand to shake my hand. I felt incredibly happy. Photographers, people from the press, librarians, and organizers trailed after him; and so did I. I stood at an angle where it was possible to listen to everything he said. I guess he sensed that I was following him around.
When other people went back to minding their own businesses, finally, he sat down on a lonely monoblock chair. I remained at my spot three feet away from his left side and kept watching him. After some time, he looked at me and then called me to come near: "Halika, iha." I thanked the universe. I sat on a cube-like couch beside his monoblock chair, and he began with questions. I brushed feelings of enthrallment and awestrickenness away. I had always wanted that conversation; and because I was already having it, there was no point of feeling giddy or childish any longer. I could only look back to more than five years ago when I had started dreaming of conversations with fine old men. For those thirty minutes, I had lived five, long, crazy diary years of dreaming.
We sat very near the entrance. When guests came in one after another, he would stand up to shake their hands and take pictures with them--I might have photobombed on almost every picture because I never left my seat. After he greeted guests, he sat back down and continued with our conversation. I saw Dr. Lua looking so proudly at us.
FSJ: What are you...(unfinished)
Me: I'm a student
FSJ: No, I mean, what are you studying?
Me: Literature po
FSJ: what do you like to read?
Me: historical fiction po... I read a lot of historical fiction, memoirs, or anywhere I can find historical data
FSJ: what's your forte? do you write poetry? fiction? drama?
Me: I try to write fiction, but I also write poetry
FSJ: mostly what?
Me: fiction
FSJ: Do you write in English or Filipino?
Me: I write in both, but predominantly in English
FSJ: You should write in the language you know best
Me: Sir, why do you write in English?
FSJ: Because history declared that I write in English. That is a question I've been asked very often. If it were not for the Americans, I would probably be writing in Japanese or maybe in German.
Me: Sir, you've been traveling a lot po. How did you manange traveling with a writer's wage? I mean, you've always said it in your essays na walang pera kapag writer. How did you do it?
FSJ: There was always the benefit of writing grants and institutions that subsidized for my travels... Pero mahirap rin talaga, walang pera ang pagiging writer, but it's a very fulfilling and noble career
Me: Sir, how are you able to sustain your writing? You've already written so much, yet here you are, still writing... You even published another article in your column just four days ago. How do you do it?
FSJ: Passion. Without passion, you can't write. You can, but writing won't live and die with you. It's not easy to write, but as a writer you have to have the passion because it's what makes a writer a writer.
Me: How did your writing start?
FSJ: Because of Jose Rizal. Jose Rizal has the greatest influence in my writing. I remember, when I was ten years old, I cried when I read the scene about the two sons of Sisa, Crispin and Basilio. At that young age, I felt outraged by the injustice. Looking back, I think that is the reason why I feel outraged every time there is an injustice.
Me: Ako naman, sir, I cried at grade two during Makabayan, when we learned about the execution of Jose Rizal. I even remember that some of my classmates made fun of it. They played the "shooting" scene for fun. That wasn't right eh, so I got really angry. Na-detention ako nun...
FSJ: Hah?!!! Anong ginawa mo ba?
Me: sinigawan ko po sila... I said "You're all so immature!!! Stop disrespecting our national hero!!!" I got a detention for calling them immature.
FSJ: Hahaha
At some point, Brother Ricky came in. They both shook hands. F. Sionil Jose asked about Brother Ricky's collar. I said hi. We also shake hands.
Me: Hello Brother Ricky...
BR: Hello, how are you?
Me: I'm fine... when are you leaving for Rome?
BR: [he pats my head and smiles nicely] Next month pa, in late August. August 25 or 26.
Me: I've always wanted to go to Rome... and I've read your letters!
BR: Oh really?
Me: Yup. Can I touch your collar?
BR: go ahead. This collar comes from a long tradition of collars from the brothers in Rome.
Me: Wow, interesting
BR: [walks away after F. Sionil Jose takes his seat] sige, good luck with school.
Me: thanks!
When Brother Ricky left, more guests arrived. Because I sat next to him, one of the guests thought that I was F. Sionil Jose's grandchild. During intervals, we continued with our conversation. Oh that was fun.
Me: How did you feel about not winning the Nobel?
FSJ: (there was a change of tone) Wala eh...nothing... I was nominated twice. One was last year. I thought that by last year I was already going to get it. That would have been a really good opportunity. Sayang eh.
Me: Oh... sorry to hear. Can you talk about Solidarity, the book shop, and the art gallery?
FSJ: I'll talk about that later in my lecture. Later.
Me: Why do you write from history?
FSJ: Because tomorrow, today will also be history. I write from a memory.
Me: What in your opinion is the best kind of novel?
FSJ: A novel that gives a person memory. I always tell people that the primary function of a writer is to give a person memory, to help a person go back to the past.
Me: I agree.
FSJ: Wala ka na bang itatanong?
Me: Nope, sir, they're about to begin na kasi.
FSJ: (stands up with his cane and walks to Dr. Lua)
While walking, he was interrogated by some more guests for handshakes and photo-ops. Dr. Lua introduced my classmates to him. He said "Aba at akala ko ba mga sampu silang lit majors?!" Dr. Lua then explained that some were still on the way or late. He asked some of my classmates (Riddick, Anis, Katrina, Andrea) one by one about the topics they were interested in and the writings they did. My classmates answered. When he turned to me, he said "Ah, kausap ko na 'to kanina."
I observed that his speech borrowed anecdotes from many of his essays. They were told in exactly the same manner, and I found it adorable. Most of the anecdotes he shared were familiar ones because I'd already read them from his column and other essays. He finished, however, with a quick note on the opening of his Collection. He said that he turns his memory over to an institution with hopes that when a person visits the manuscripts and memorabilia, a person might remember.
Immediately after the signing of the contract, the ribbon was cut. I rushed from my back-row seat to the ribbon-cutting ceremony at the other end and pushed my way through the crowd and paparazzi to take good shots of every moment of the Collection's ribbon-cutting and after. I felt incredibly stalkeresque and energetic. I followed F. Sionil Jose everywhere, from inside the little room to the larger spaces he would go to to have pictures with guests. I also took pictures of him with guests and promised to upload them (we're friends on Facebook). After my turn as a photographer, I headed to the buffet table where I spoke to more people.
I spoke with Ms. Asuncion David-Maramba and promised to look for her books in the library. She mentioned that she taught in my university for a time and had authored several books. I also spoke with Dr. Vince Gomez.
Vince Gomez: Hi, are you the one doing a study on F. Sionil Jose?
Me: Yes!
VG: Ah, that's great! For how long have you been studying about him?
Me: For four months already.
VG: Oh, good. Are you also studying here?
Me: Yup, third year. (popping a piece of blue cheese into my mouth)
VG: Okay. I'm the person who made all of this possible, from asking F. Sionil Jose to turn over his collection to making arrangements, etc.
Me: Wow, that's amazing. May I know your name, sir? [I felt like spitting the blue cheese out but I couldn't because I was in the middle of a conversation. I had no choice but to swollow the disgusting blue cheese.]
VG: I'm Dr. Gomez
Me: Vince Gomez?
VG: Yes
Me: [in my head: Shucks, kilala ka ng tatay ko] Oh! I'm sorry, I hardly recognize people by face. I usually only know them by name, including many of the writers here...
VG: No, it's fine. At least you know them by name. It's good noh, and how old are you?
Me: I'm 18
VG: Still young. What do you plan to do after college? Do you plan to teach? Study abroad?
Me: I could teach, but I don't teach well, so I could also go to law school or study abroad. I actually used to have so many plans for my life but it gets harder to decide as I get older.
VG: Take it slow, don't rush. It's better to be careful, because that's how you end up somewhere
Me: Yup, okay.
In the middle of that conversation, one of F. Sionil Jose's daughters came with her mother and introduced me to her mother.
Daughter: Mama, this is the girl who's been telling us all about Papa! She was here every day of the week and helped us with the set!
Tita Tessie: What's your name?
Me: I'm Serina
T: You've been here all week?
Me: Yup (I try to avoid the praise/pressure)
T: Thank you for your dedication and for helping them set up!
Me: No, thank you for collating all of his manuscripts! I now have a favorite spot in the library.
Tita: (friendly smile) Have you gotten something to eat?
Me: Yes, tita
The day ended splendidly. Two of F. Sionil Jose's daughter's friends also approached me and asked questions. We all had a picture together. In fact, I had so many pictures taken with people that day that I felt I couldn't touch a camera anymore. One of the friends said "Get your dreams!" I'll definitely heed these words.
I have two Biblical stories in mind: one, the story of a young Jesus sitting among teachers at the temple; and two, the story of Mary sitting at Jesus' feet when He came to their house.
I'd never like to directly compare myself to Jesus, but today's experiences had led to this assimilation. It was refreshing to have been able to convene with older people. For thirty-something memorable minutes, I sat down with F. Sionil Jose and just talked. I loved that part of the day. In my world, I meander about relationships between young girls and older men with whatever kind of relationship conceivable. Strangely, I found myself living inside that meander today. It's something I would do every day if I could.
Thursday, July 10, 2014
7.4
Dinah Roma's poetry collection entitled Naming the Ruins is amazing. I've now found a book that I can have a romance with this weekend. Today was the book's launch and I helped in ushering the event. Very early I waited at South Gate for writers and guests to come. Katrina and Anis stayed at North Gate. When two other ushers, Joey and Jeline, came to take my place, I went back up to assist with the registration table. There I saw a fellow lit major. Being under the Bienvenido N. Santos Creative Writing Center for his practicum, he was among the earliest in the room. He said hello. Feeling awkward, I went back down to South Gate. I normally wouldn't, considering the distance from 13th floor Learning Commons to South Gate--ew--and the heat. I just feel really really awkward around him now, I could not figure out why.
Finally, after my stint as a South Gate usher I went back up. The lecture hall was then more occupied than it was a few minutes before. There, I recognized some writers. I dared to start "writer conversations" with some of them, or at the very least listen to them talk, which I did during the pika-pika session. I spent the most of the time talking to Virginia Moreno.
I was assigned to the video camera. My practicumer-friend took pictures.
My very awkward nature gets the better of me a lot of times. During the event, I played "boss" by ordering him around to do things. A naturally kindhearted and well-mannered person, he did as I said. Realization seeped in only afterward when after the event, he looked weary and tired. I said sorry for being too pushy.
Me: There!!! Take pictures of every person or group of people who registers! That's what we do on every event!!!
Me: Count how many people had signed up
Friend: 16
Me: You just missed 16 people!!! Gah.
Me: There!!! Take pictures of the book-signing!!!
Friend: yeah okay...
Me: okay, good job
Weird thoughts ran on my mind that afternoon--thoughts that bothered me and woke me up. To brush those thoughts away, I dared myself to turn around with eyes closed, and at any time I felt like opening them I'd open my eyes and face a writer. The very first writer I see, whether familiar or not, I will approach. The mechanics of the "randomly-walk-up-to-a-writer-and-talk" game was pretty simple, and I needed it.
This made me think of myself as Phoebus who followed Daphne.
When I opened my eyes, I saw Virginia Moreno. At first, I had no idea who the heck she was; I then made use of my stalking abilities to find out who she is and what she did. I do that. I approach her not long after. She ended up telling me all about her life in UP and in America--and heck how I enjoyed listening. Nothing beats the thrill of listening to writers, especially senile ones, talk. I am amazed at how much of their past they can still remember.
Listening to F. Sionil Jose talk to the person from Vagabond Press was also a great stalking experience. F. Sionil Jose said exactly: "Filipino poetry in English is a language of its own." He sounds exactly the way he writes. He's amazing.
Finally, after my stint as a South Gate usher I went back up. The lecture hall was then more occupied than it was a few minutes before. There, I recognized some writers. I dared to start "writer conversations" with some of them, or at the very least listen to them talk, which I did during the pika-pika session. I spent the most of the time talking to Virginia Moreno.
I was assigned to the video camera. My practicumer-friend took pictures.
My very awkward nature gets the better of me a lot of times. During the event, I played "boss" by ordering him around to do things. A naturally kindhearted and well-mannered person, he did as I said. Realization seeped in only afterward when after the event, he looked weary and tired. I said sorry for being too pushy.
Me: There!!! Take pictures of every person or group of people who registers! That's what we do on every event!!!
Me: Count how many people had signed up
Friend: 16
Me: You just missed 16 people!!! Gah.
Me: There!!! Take pictures of the book-signing!!!
Friend: yeah okay...
Me: okay, good job
Weird thoughts ran on my mind that afternoon--thoughts that bothered me and woke me up. To brush those thoughts away, I dared myself to turn around with eyes closed, and at any time I felt like opening them I'd open my eyes and face a writer. The very first writer I see, whether familiar or not, I will approach. The mechanics of the "randomly-walk-up-to-a-writer-and-talk" game was pretty simple, and I needed it.
This made me think of myself as Phoebus who followed Daphne.
When I opened my eyes, I saw Virginia Moreno. At first, I had no idea who the heck she was; I then made use of my stalking abilities to find out who she is and what she did. I do that. I approach her not long after. She ended up telling me all about her life in UP and in America--and heck how I enjoyed listening. Nothing beats the thrill of listening to writers, especially senile ones, talk. I am amazed at how much of their past they can still remember.
Listening to F. Sionil Jose talk to the person from Vagabond Press was also a great stalking experience. F. Sionil Jose said exactly: "Filipino poetry in English is a language of its own." He sounds exactly the way he writes. He's amazing.
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