dAi2_ug_.jpg

dAi2_ug_.jpg, originally uploaded by arleighmac.

Char!

at_d_c.U.jpg

at_d_c.U.jpg, originally uploaded by arleighmac.

Char!

San Juanico Bridge

San Juanico Bridge As Seen By the ISM Team II, originally uploaded by Biologist Buliklik.

the most beautiful suspension bridge in asia. truly a magnificent structure on the eastern part of the philippines.

TV RATINGS - 3/2/2007

TV RATINGS - 3/2/2007

>From PEX

Research by Jun Jun aska26ph2001@...
http://tv.groups.yahoo.com/group/ABS-CBNKapamilyaPEXers2
Posted by crazp

Friday TV Ratings- Mega Manila Area
March 2, 2007

Homeboy 11.7%
Sis 11.2%

Pilipinas, Game Ka Na Ba? 19.6%
Yellow 17.0%

Wowowee 23.6%
EB 19.2%
Daisy 15.6%

Inocente de Ti 17.9%
Muli 14.0%

Kapamilya Cinema 14.2%
PC 14.1%
FUll 14.3%

Jewel 16.3%
Pangako sa 'Yo 11.3%

24 Oras 27.2%
TV Patrol World 23.1%

AT 32.6%
Sana Maulit Muli 23.9%

Super Twins 35.4%
Maging Sino Ka Man 26.5%

Bakekang 35.0%
Maria Flordeluna 23.3%

Jumong 27.2%
MMK 20.1

Pinoy Big Brother Season 2 19.5%
Starstruck 19.6%
BG 15.4%

At any price... from YOUNGBLOOD of INQUIRER.net

YOUNG BLOOD
At any price
By Carlo N. Lazaro
Inquirer
Last updated 01:58am (Mla time) 03/06/2007

I am writing this onboard a plane. I have just visited my uncle and his family in Seattle, Washington, for a week, and I am on my way back to my father's place in New York City.

My dad graduated from the University of the Philippines, Los Baños, many years back. He immediately took a job in a big agricultural company selling fertilizers and at the same time educating farmers in the province of Pampanga. He was a good lecturer and educator, being pro-farmer. In Pampanga, he met my mother, the daughter of a small-time fertilizer dealer. They had me a year after they were married in 1978.

My mom worked for an airline company. Even if they were both working their bottoms off and thought they only had me at the time, they felt that they still didn't have enough. We didn't have our own house and the budget was always tight.

My dad decided to work in Saudi Arabia (yes, I am an overseas Filipino worker's child). When he was working in the Middle East, we were able to build a house and buy some properties, and later we, the children, were sent to exclusive private schools.

My father was not around when my brother was born. I had such a skewed idea of family that when my brother was born in 1983, I blurted out: "Ma, lalaki ang anak natin!" ["Ma, our child is a boy!"]

My dad tried to find work again in our country, but because of his age, and maybe partly because of politics, he failed to land a job. Thus, after his stint in Saudi Arabia and multiple failures in business and employment, he decided to try his luck in the land of the free and the home of the brave.

He went to the United States on a tourist visa. He had no permit to work and he carried the burden of making our lives comfortable.

Raising us was no picnic for mom. She was single-handedly taking care of two boys, and taking all the physical, emotional and psychological blows they entailed.

My dad, for all his expertise, educational background and vast experience, landed a job as a housekeeping staff in a nursing home. Later, he worked as a nurse's aide. After that, he worked as a carpool driver on the streets of New York. All the time he saved as much as he could so he could send money home to mom. And this was a man who had graduated from San Beda College and University of the Philippines and who had managed people in a large agricultural company.

At the age of 40, he decided that it was time to move up. He studied nursing. And when he completed his studies, he worked as a nurse -- a job that he holds up to the present.

He could not go back to the Philippines because his immigration papers were not in order. So we visited him instead.

As the years passed, we started to drift apart, until we became almost like strangers. My mom loves my father, but she does not really know him well because during their 30 years of marriage, they were only together for a total of 10 years. All their married life was focused on providing a good life for us, even if it meant giving up the romance, the long walks, the "growing old together" that most couples enjoy.

I sometimes wonder why my parents gave up being together and how they were able to go through it day after day. I can imagine them just newly married and making plans to grow old together, to raise two boys together and then retire together—to start and to end together, as husband and wife.

This did not become a reality. It did not come true because of the great American dream.

The American dream is defined differently by different people. This I have learned from long conversations with my relatives. To some, it means living in the USA, building a family there, having a good career, and buying a house in a good neighborhood. To others, like my father, the American dream means working in the US, no matter what the price, to make their loved ones in the Philippines live comfortable lives.

My father is 54 now, but he looks much older than his age. Years of hard work as a nurse have taken its toll on his body. Diabetes has destroyed his joints and impaired his eyesight. He has spent several days in the intensive care unit alone. Despite all this, he continues to serve American patients and doctors.

Maybe a part of the American dream is the feeling of self-worth. When he was in his 40s, many companies in the Philippines turned his job application down because of his age. In America, his patients and co-workers love him and his age and his race hardly matter. Because he pays his taxes on time, he enjoys great benefits in terms of health care. His insurance paid for his ICU confinement as well as his laser surgeries for glaucoma. He has worked hard and Uncle Sam now takes care of him.

Ah, the American Dream: My father is weak but he is happy. His American dream came true in his accomplishments, in the properties he owns in the Philippines and in his sons, one a doctor, the other a lawyer. After more than 20 years of being apart, I think he's trying to make up for lost time.

I am a new doctor in the Philippines. I am my father's son, and I, too, am searching for my American dream.

Carlo N. Lazaro, 27, passed the recent medical board exams.

Copyright 2007 Inquirer. All rights reserved. This material may not be published, broadcast, rewritten or redistributed.

YOUNGBLOOD "Refuse to use" of INQUIRER.net

YOUNGBLOOD
Refuse to use

By Anna Rhea R. Manuel
Inquirer
Last updated 01:46am (Mla time) 03/01/2007

EVERY time I refuse to use straws, or offer my cloth bag to the bagger at the supermarket, or reprimand total strangers for throwing trash or spitting on the sidewalk, or say I'm a vegetarian for ethical reasons, people ask me if I've turned environmentalist. It's as if turning into one is like turning into a "manananggal" at night and assuming a human form during the day, as if one cares for the environment one day, and becomes indifferent to it the next. The term carries a seemingly exclusive and elitist connotation to a lot of people. But it isn't, and it shouldn't.

There are a number of NGOs whose advocacy is the protection and conservation of the environment. I commend the commitment and efforts these people have, and the dangers they put themselves through to fight for their cause. Probably, they're the most unselfish people in the world.

A friend, who belongs to one such NGO, shared with us his experience during his last climb. When he reached the peak of the mountain and saw the gorgeous landscape below, he said to himself, "I want my future children and grandchildren to see this." But he was worried that the mountain with its thick vegetation might not be in the future.

I've been in Manila most of my life, constantly complaining about the smog, the trash, the almost unlivable Pasig River, and the horrendous unhygienic habits of people. Even so, I make time to bike around the Marikina River Park and enjoy whatever is left of the urban greenery. Ironically, that relatively small area alone has both confirmed my feeling of luck that I live in Marikina (of all the places in Metro Manila) and further intensified my need to live elsewhere. Despite the community-friendly River Park, with its nice landscape and attractions, I fear that eventually, the river will stop flowing, and everything along with it, unless something is done soon.

I don't belong to any environmentalist organization, but an increased awareness of what's happening provides enough drive for me to make people respond to the need to change. I make do with what I have and where I am pushing for an advocacy I share with those affiliated with big groups.

In the little school where I teach, I was able to integrate this nagging compulsion with the subject matter in our English class. Considering the students' abilities and experiences, my co-teachers and I deemed it practical to focus our efforts on reducing the use of plastic. So we designed a batch project entitled "Refuse to Use." There was a series of activities followed by a symposium on the environmental toll our use (or misuse) of plastic is taking.

This project has three phases. The first is the personal refusal to use plastic. The students are instructed to refuse plastic items or bags whenever they go to sari-sari stores, shops or malls. Instead, they bring with them cloth bags or recycled plastic bags or, if the item is small (and dry) enough, they put them in their pockets or carry them. The students note down the reaction of the bagger or vendor.

The students found out that most shop owners and salespeople approved of the project because it cut costs and not really because it helps lessen pollution.

The second phase is the signature campaign, in which each student gathers at least 300 signatures from members of their families, neighbors, communities and elsewhere. We are expecting a total of at least 14,000 signatures.

The last phase involves writing a petition to reduce the use of plastic in businesses. We are writing to small-scale industries, mall owners, newspapers and government agencies to seek their help in spreading this concern.

Right after the students submitted the output for the first phase, I asked who among them continued to refuse the use of plastic. Nobody did.

It was a disappointing result, but expected. For how can one change a habit (which took 10 or 15 years to develop) over a course of two weeks? How can we expect parents to understand when they themselves don't see the need? Even at home, despite constant reminders from me, my dad still accumulates an average of five plastic bags per day. He says he forgets and he just can't refuse. It is frustrating, and discouraging.

I mulled over this predicament and realized that respect for the environment, readiness, will and commitment are crucial if we want actual changes to happen.

Everything comes from respect. A child follows a parent's advice because he respects the parent's capability to give sound advice. One does not eat meat because one respects an animal's right to live. Lack of respect results in abuse, destruction, indifference.

People should be ready to change their lifestyles. The simple act of refusing a straw can cause strain or perhaps embarrassment to any person doing it the first time, but I don't know why it should. We can buy biscuits in bigger packages instead of small ones. Or we can bring a cloth bag everywhere and explain to the bagger or vendor to use the bag instead of plastic, whenever we buy something.

When one is ready, one has the will to adapt to any changes because one believes in the urgency of doing so. In the long run, one develops a commitment. The scope of commitment is relative to an individual's capacity and resources. If one is committed to something, one is willing to be the catalyst of change.

I can accept that we lack the respect, readiness, will and commitment to change our ways for the environment. The urban Filipino psyche is not geared toward this concern. This is all the more reason to intensify our advocacy. For shall we wait to show respect until we have condemned the earth to an irreversible slide to destruction? Shall we be ready to do something only when great damage has been done to the environment? Will we summon the will only when there's nothing left for us to salvage? Shall we develop a commitment to save the eartth only when we have destroyed everything that nourishes the human race?

When I am asked if I've turned environmentalist, I answer: Shouldn't we all be?

Anna Rhea R. Manuel, 25, is taking up her master's in Reading Education at the University of the Philippines (UP) in Diliman, Quezon City. She is also an English teacher at the UP Integrated School.

Copyright 2007 Inquirer. All rights reserved. This material may not be published, broadcast, rewritten or redistributed.

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Miles away ... from INQUIRER.net

YOUNGBLOOD

Miles away


By Belen Docena-Asuelo

Inquirer

Last updated 00:40am (Mla time) 02/27/2007

Now
that it’s love month, I can’t help but sorely miss my husband. He is my
number one fan, friend, critic, confidant, soul mate, town mate, all
rolled into one. And he is miles away from me.

I am not alone with my battle against loneliness. My three girls
(ages 9, 8 and 6) who are all their Papa’s girls have not yet adjusted
to the fact that he is physically away from us. No amount of telephone
calls can still the girls’ queries on when we are going to be with
their Papa again. They miss him terribly.

He left with a heavy heart for the land of milk and honey last Dec.
29, 2006. It’s the first time he has been away after 10 years of
marriage. The scene at the airport with my husband and the kids was far
more melodramatic and touching than any episode of “Maalaala Mo Kaya”
or “Magpakailanman.” To say that a river of tears from my kids flowed
at the airport’s entrance is an understatement. The children kept on
waving at their teary-eyed father until he was out of sight.

Tears could not stop my husband’s departure. He had tried to
postpone it by requesting the agency to reschedule his flight, but
after many postponements the inevitable came, and he had to go.

I thought the drama at the airport would be enough. But on the way
home, the kids couldn’t mumble clear words as their father made his
last call before boarding his plane.

Things didn’t improve when we arrived home. They immediately looked
for things that would remind them of their Papa and or simply stared
blankly at the wall.

To this day, his presence is missed at dinnertime and bedtime. My
middle child, who used to sleep beside him, tried to feel his presence
by placing beside her pillow one of the clean shirts he left behind.
But she complained that she could not smell her Papa in the newly
washed working shirt he left.

With my husband gone, we had our loneliest "media noche" [midnight
feast] last Christmas. We were all quiet on the table even if we had
the usual array of sumptuous foods. Nothing could make up for his
absence. One of my daughters, unable to control herself, said in tears
that she should have been with her Papa.

Until now, she often repeats that wish. Sometimes I would find her
holding a picture of him, as tears roll down her angelic face.

You can’t blame my kids for loving their Papa so dearly. He was
always sensitive to their needs. He couldn’t come home without
something they loved to munch. My girls did not run out of Dunkin
Donuts. It didn’t matter if he was short on cash, he would bring
without fail something for the kids.

He also couldn’t leave home without cooking for the girls their
favorite "champorado" porridge with Milo. He couldn’t sleep without
putting medication on the kids’ skin. He was proud to say that his
angels were flawless. He would usually stock on skin medications like
Katialis and other topical ointments for the kids.

When they were sick, he was more bothered than me. He insisted on
bringing the kids to the hospital even if I assured him they had
nothing more than a slight fever. He was a mother wrapped in a father’s
body.

Now that he is miles away, his loved ones really feel the vacuum
that he left. And we do not know how long it will take before we can
adjust to his absence. Every so often, the kids would ask when we are
going to the US Embassy for our interviews so we can join him.

He has been urging me to apply for a job in the place where he lives
now so that I can bring the kids there. I am assured of his fidelity to
me and I am convinced of his great love for the kids whenever he vows
to move heaven and earth so that we can be together soon.

I would be lying if I said I am not excited about joining my dear
husband abroad. After the many stories he has told me about the US and
the many opportunities it opens, I cannot help but wish to join the
bandwagon of professionals going abroad. We cannot deprive our three
girls of the bright future that they deserve. We will not risk giving
them a bleak tomorrow due to poor education, an unsafe environment, an
unstable economy, self-serving lawmakers, etc. Indeed, there is nothing
we won’t do for them.

I am certain that the love that binds my husband, our three girls
and me will survive the test of time and distance. Geography doesn’t
matter. The firm family bond will always be there. Our love will keep
us going.

Belen Docena-Asuelo, 29, teaches English at Don Alejandro Roces Sr. Science Technology High School in Quezon City

Copyright 2007 Inquirer. All rights reserved. This material may not be
published, broadcast, rewritten or redistributed.