Sky is the Beginning

Sometimes, everyday living gets a bit too boring, too dull, too repetitive. It’s the same old story, the same old pancit canton breakfast, lunch, and dinner, and there comes a time when even coffee can’t bring any extra flavor to your life. Late at night you stare at the starry sky and wonder if it could just take you away and transport you to a place that’s exciting and magical.

And then it happened. We weren’t sure when it officially started, but we heard that some people were able to immerse themselves into entirely new worlds. How, you may ask? It wasn’t because of airplanes, time machines, or rockets. No. It was through writing and reading. These two opened up new possibilities for expression and imagination. And we experienced both of them, in different stages of our life. It was amazing, yet it is difficult to place a proper explanation of how it felt. But if we were to choose a word that could best describe the experience, we believe that it was an abduction. How the world of writing and reading can whisk you away into a fantastical new universe, where the only limit to your galaxies was your imagination.

The name of our online magazine is Sky is the Beginning. We didn’t choose this title just because the theme of our blog is the sky and the galaxy. Our title wishes to tell people that sky is not the limit, it’s actually the beginning. We shouldn’t shackle our thoughts to something that’s merely sky-high, when there’s a massive universe just beyond the blue sky. Writing and reading brings you to the bigger and higher viewpoint. When it comes to expressing your thoughts, think farther than the sky, far enough to touch the infinities of the galaxies, and you’ll find that life isn’t boring and repetitive at all.

If you’d like to read the pages of this online magazine, then by all means, go. It’s best to warn you though, that the world of writing and reading can abduct you at any moment when you least expect it. Our advice? Let it bring you past the hazy clouds of your mind to the farthest nebulas of your thoughts. So dear readers, write, express, discover, and get ready to kiss the planet goodbye.

              A simple notice about a job hiring posted outside stalls or printed on the pages of the classified ads in a newspaper may not concern those in the working society—even students like us, who will in four to five years time graduate from college. But a class does care who are evaluated by job qualifications and later fail because of one requirement—a college degree. It is undeniable that one of the many factors the Philippines remains stagnant in its economic status is the continuous unemployment of, as if unable but actually very able citizens of the country who are simply not given the chance to get hired because they have not finished a college degree.

                The capitalists present in our country today are, unfortunately, overrating college diplomas. Papers, for them, are much of an evidence of capacity rather than actual experience. We can’t blame them because ever since, it has been instilled in society that when you have achieved a bachelor’s degree, you are better than those who don’t have one. There’s nothing wrong with degrees and diplomas, it’s just that these diplomas aren’t needed when you’re in blue-collar jobs, such as food servers, cashiers and more. College degrees are only true for professions that require expertise and critical thinking such as doctors, lawyers and engineers, but in baby-sitting, serving food in restaurants and cashiering, it wouldn’t be a big deal. Knowledge isn’t obligatory, skills are.

                Requiring a college degree of job hunters is necessary and very important to jobs that require specialization and academic knowledge. But there are some jobs that don’t require such degrees like call center agents, tutors, security guards, and welders, according to a research conducted. These occupations only require skills, experience and ability. As long as the applicant is capable enough to accomplish his/her duty well then a college degree is not necessary for those jobs.

                Having a college degree should not be a necessity in finding a job. High school graduates are not that bad. The only advantage that college students have is the learning that they got from school. Not all college students can apply the things that they had learned. An example is people who work as call center agents. Not all of them are graduates of a certain degree but there are also only high school graduates. Actually, according to the Labor Force Survey (LFS) conducted by the National Statistics Office last January 2012, across educational groups that were employed, one-third (33.7%) of the unemployed were high school graduates, 13.5 per cent were college undergraduates, while 17.8 per cent were college graduates. It just shows that high school graduates are also a big help in the economy for they are vastly employed.

                Some countries in the world hire job applicants who do not have a college degree. According to Leigh Egan, “many employers are willing to hire entry-level workers while allowing them time to further their education, while others will hire potential employees as long as they meet the minimum job requirements.” Some companies hire employees who have the skills and talents in doing some of the work. However, they still have to acquire some of the basic job requirements. Furthermore, there are high-paying occupations which do not require a college degree, based on 2009 median wages that require only work experience or on-the-job training. According to the study of Dawn Rosenberg McKay: “Earnings vary by employer and will depend on factors including level of experience and training, and location.” Examples are the Industrial Production Managers who earned a median hourly wage of $40.90 in 2009 and the Transportation Storage and Distribution Managers who were paid a median hourly wage of $38.22 in 2009. In the Philippines, fast food or short-order cooks and food preparation workers do not need much education as their skills are learned on the job. Those who want to work as a cook or chef can take vocational school programs. Moreover, most employers require Human Resources assistants (HR assistants) to have only a high school diploma. But they must have a related occupational experience to work in the above fields. Training usually takes place on the job.

                Think about it, would it be reasonable that the employment of food servers, cashiers, waiters and many other skill-based workers is his or her college diploma, while the highest position—presidency, could be attained by a high-school graduate as long as he or she is elected by the people? Would it be fair that an inexperienced university graduate fights for the same job with a deprived-of-education-but-blessed-with-skills-citizen. Who do you think would win? Open your eyes to the irrationality of the job market around us. Taking into consideration the most important question: Can you do the job? School might have taught us a lot, but not everything is learned within four walls of the classroom; sometimes, those who’ve seen the reality of life have so much more to offer.

REFERENCES:

http://www.ehow.com/facts_5002339_jobs-high-school-diploma-ged.html

http://careerplanning.about.com/od/exploringoccupations/tp/hi_pay_nodeg.htm

           Teenagers, they say, are the most expressive people in our society. From making their own fashion sense to creating their stand even on politics, they have made our world fun and exciting in every aspect. Just like what normal adolescents are trying to do all over the world, Dabawenyo teens also want to set their mark in our society today. And actually they have, not just those who are studying in their classrooms but also those who lack education – out-of-school-youth. Although they lack education like the children their age, they have managed to achieve things such as bold fashion statements, quirky ways of communication, and even developing their own official soundtrack that has tons and tons of variations! Let us not wait any longer, it’s time to introduce the TEEN-sations of Davao.

JEJEMONS

            People who are known for typing strange texts in Internet chats, social networking sites, and text messaging are first on the list, the Jejemons. They have this style in which they combine capital letters with lower case ones and sometimes, even numbers in words that are barely recognizable such as “3OwwSsz p0whsz”, “emOwprinc3sxz” and “mUsXtaAh?”. They are not only stylish when it comes to texting but also in what they wear. Jejemons have this trademark rainbow-coloured cap, also known as the Jeje caps, which they wear just to show off. Their choice of clothing and footwear are bright and colorful tops, skinny jeans, and fake Supra shoes. Usually, they are also seen wearing a belt which has a bigger buckle than the ordinary, together with their choice of accessories – metal chains and colorful wristbands. When taking a picture, a Jejemon will always strike a pose to get the perfect shot. From the famous upside-down peace signs, to the rock sign, to the side view and even over-the-top angles, you name it and Jejemons have it! When it comes to their social traits, Jejemons are talkative especially when they are with their groups. They are very sociable because they like to get the attention of everyone around them. Even though they have a weird fashion sense and unusual style of writing, Jejemons are very proud of who they are.

RUGBY BOYS

            Ready your gas masks because you’re going to need them to meet the next bunch of peeps. They are Rugby Boys! Though they are not numerous, this kind of people can be found in some particular places in the city like Claveria and Quimpo Boulevard. From afar you can sense what they are going to do; these are the people who always have small plastic bags in their hands with rugby in it that they inhale. They do that to distract themselves from hunger, not knowing it can damage their brains and may result in mental disorders. Rugby Boys look really unhealthy and malnourished because of their skinny bodies that seem to have no substance at all. Rugby Boys seldom mingle with other people. They would rather spend their time with their own kind. Rugby Boys think pessimistically. They seem depressed all the time because of their poverty. They have no hopes for the future.

GANGSTERS

            When you come across teens that disturb the peace and serenity of the night and are seen throwing rocks at their enemies and innocent bystanders, be sure to cover your heads! They group together like a pack of were wolves particularly late at night. They are called Gangsters. Gangsters are easily be identified by their clothes. They usually wear large, hanging and loose shirts with matching shorts and sneakers or slippers. Moreover, they sometimes wear caps and knee-high socks. Gangsters can be spotted in certain place they call their own dubbed as their territory. They are dangerous because they are not part of a gang. And if they don’t like you, don’t ever try to piss them off because you surely have to beg them for your dear life! Some gangsters own guns while most of them carry a knife or a snitch blade, known locally as balisong. Some even take a illegal drugs or drinks too much but it does not mean that all gangsters are bad. As a matter of fact, some would join a gang to feel a sense of belonging. Some are even talented, they can rap and paint graffiti but sadly, they only use it in a wrong way.

POKPOKS

            Sexy, sultry ladies in red ready to keep you accompany at night for a price. Are you in for an interesting night? In Davao City, young women, are often seen wearing heavy make-up, revealing types of clothing, and sky-high heels along the vicinity of Bangko Sentral ng Pilipinas at the dead of night. They are said to be waiting for their customers to earn money through having sex. These teenagers are part of the growing number of out-of-school youth nowadays. They are working in order to help their families and themselves. Dabawenyos would call them likev “pokpoks” and “prosti”, the shortcut form of the word for who they really are, prostituted women. Pokpoks are always associated with similar physical attributes. They are gals that have colored edgy-looking hair and long slender legs. Pokpoks aim to satisfy the sexual needs and desires of their customers that is why they must look good and feel good. In terms of their social traits, they are often described as sensual because this is their way to attract their customers. Though they know where they stand in the community today, they seem to ignore it already because they know they are all doing it for the sake of their families. What differentiates them from other out-of-school youth? Prostituted women are determined. They are strong and stand by what they believe in.

BUDOTS

  Teens with huge boom boxes ready to smash your eardrums with ear-splitting feel-good music are here to stay! Budots, as we would normally call them, is a  distinct group of teens here in Davao City. You may normally see them in places such as parks, malls and even on the streets. Budots are not your usual tambays in subdivisions; these budots are extremely unique in terms of dressing themselves up. When you first see them, your first impression would be: they are so baduy! You would totally be grossed by the way they dress up. Shorts that are too big for them, Rapper t-shirts, fake Supra shoes, ball caps, and a bandana. Sounds like a normal outfit for a Jejemon right? But believe me; these Budots have this distinct thing which separates them from the Jejemons: their speakers and their small bicycles! You’ll see that they always have speakers on their backs, even in their bikes, which play Budots music—that certain music which is an annoying mix of techno music that also has one-liner sentences that’s constantly repeated! On the other hand, they are actually very friendly. You’ll be surprised because these budots would suddenly talk to you and invite you to join their so called budots party in the streets. Psychologically, these budots are just your typical teenagers who love to express themselves, in an open-minded and carefree way, without thinking of what others may think about them.

RASTAS

            They look cool, swag, and scary sometimes. They are stereotyped as addicted to illegal weeds and when they get high, be sure not to mess up with them. Aside from their cool looks, they also are regarded by many as having as such an untidy appearance that it looks like they don’t take a bath regularly. Those bulky dreadlocks, the red-yellow-green pattern in their loose shirts and pants always bring their identity as Rastas. Usually they roam around in groups. You can find them anywhere: in the city, in beach resorts, or on mountain tops since they are very inclined to exploring nature. They usually have a mountaineering club. These rastas also indulge in the arts, which they sell as necklaces, bracelets, etc. on the street. On the other hand, they have a deep sense in life. They play good music with deep messages in them. It’s as if they put into music what they can’t express in words. They enjoy having quiet time in the beach, just spending time with their guitars, and they always bring with them their own hammocks. Even though most of them are out-of-school youths, they spend their time in a productive way. They spread good music and the trend they’re establishing is worth more than you can imagine.

            From their coolest moves and fashionable attires, these teen-sations have proved to us that they are more than those superficial airhead teens we see on reality television. From Jejemons to Rugby Boys, Gangsters, Pokpoks, Budots to Rastas, no wonder they have made the trends of this generation. 

I was junior high at Saint Peter’s College of Toril when one unique and memorable event happened in my life. It was when I represented my beloved batch for the Mr. & Ms. Intramurals 2010 conducted in our school. It was my first time to join such an event. It was an ordinary day in school. I was standing outside our classroom when our class adviser immediately and straightforwardly told me that the curriculum teachers had decided that I was the one who was going to represent my batch, in the Mr. & Ms. Intramurals pageant. What a joke, what a silly joke! It really got to my nerves. I didn’t know how to react, whether to thank them or just laugh at their foolishness. At first, I refused to do it because I was thinking of what others might say or think of me. It was kind of unfair because the process of choosing the batch representative should be done by screening, but in my case I was directly chosen. It was flattering, with the teachers giving me the challenge and their trust that I could do it. It may sound absurd but the second time I told my teacher about my decision; I wholeheartedly approved their decision and said yes to them.

During the event, I told myself that the decision I had made will never cause me regrets for I saw everybody’s great support. My family and relatives, with their simple presence, inspired me to beat the odds. My friends were there being the best supporters ever, raising a tarpaulin with my face printed on it. My teachers too, were obviously my great fans at that moment. Lastly, my mother’s support. She was at the backstage helping me fix myself for every segment the pageant had, helping me change my outfits several times, taking photographs of me, giving food, offering a lot of encouragement and doing everything to make me feel that I was the best. With all the support, I stood in front of the crowd with much confidence, I had a goal to make them proud, and of course, I wanted to win. Who does not want to win?

As the event was about to end, four minor awards were distributed one by one. Fortunately, two of those were awarded to me, namely, the Best in Sports Attire and the Best in Filipiniana Costume. My mother was the one who pinned the sashes on my barong.  She was proud of me as I was of myself, too. In the overall results, I only garnered second runner-up. Yet , I was contented because I gave what I got , and my batch mates even congratulated me, and my family appreciated me more than the winner, of course.

As a realization, I wasn’t really there for the name and the fame – I was there for the game. And through that game, I gained friends that I will never forget and experiences that I will never regret. It was a realization that I was highly honored to be given the chance to compete and represent my batch, a realization that I was showered with blessings far greater than what I need. The whole experience made me feel like I was more than a prince.

And then it came to the point when I asked myself, "Should I forgive him to prove I'm a true friend or should I pursue my pride, make him realize my worth and make him regret?"

It was a hot afternoon long ago when my teacher was dictating hard questions for our quiz in History. I was still in grade three back then, childish, vulnerable, friendly, and very much pissed with our quiz. I didn't study the night before and had no one else sitting next to me but him. I couldn't ask for answers because he was new back then and I was afraid he might ignore me, but I was wrong. When the quiz became harder I got even more pissed and didn't want to have a poor grade so I bravely poked and approached him, gave a huge friendly smile and asked, "Would you mind sharing answers with me?" He smiled back and said "Not at all! I'm Jasper. And you are?" And from that moment on we became good friends. That one simple conversation started my adventurous and irreplaceable bonding and friendship with Jasper.

We remained friends until high school. But soon I realized Jasper and I have only a few months left to bond with each other before high school ended. So, I got scared. I became possessive of him, I always followed him, I got angry when he hung out with someone else, I demanded more time with him than the usual and it made him feel tied up and captured. it was like I took away his freedom. My possessiveness led him to staying away from me; he even stopped hanging out with me. He avoided me and wanted to get rid of me, and I felt rejected. I couldn't understand why he was hurting me when all I wanted was his time and attention. I cried every night thinking of how to escape the pain. after all the crying and the attention seeking, I got tired and through; I stopped minding him, I stopped communicating, I stopped posting pathetic drama on Facebook and I even thought of just forgetting everything we had been through since our third grade.

                  On the afternoon of August 2, 2012, I walked through the path walk of my school, University of the Philippines Mindanao, dealing with the nervousness I felt, thinking about what lay ahead. That time, I just couldn’t keep myself from worrying what might happen, being the Iska representative of my course, BA Communication Arts (BACA). As I arrived in the Atrium, I saw students moving from one place to the other, busy with the Freshmen Torch Night. After a while, some of my block mates passed by and greeted me, and I acknowledged the gesture with a smile. It was all the energy I could summon.

                        I was walking continuously until I arrived in the classroom where the contestants for the Search for Ultimate Isko and Iska were located. Ate Joya, a third year BACA student, called my name and asked me to sit on the chair for the make-up artist was already waiting for me.

                        Two hours later, the organizers called the “Isko’s” and “Iska’s” for the production number. Reaching the backstage, we were requested to hold hands. There, a spontaneous prayer was led by the former Isko called “Kuya George”. After, we were asked to settle ourselves. And as I stepped on the grand stage, my heart was beating so fast. I heard people shouting and cheering, which made me feel traumatized until now. But, I couldn’t see them. The lights were very bright. I could only see the shadows of the audience.

                        After two group numbers from the freshmen, we were again back on stage. The next exposure was the Festival Attire. I tried so hard to project a “Dalagang Filipina” way of bringing herself, knowing that the background music did not match the way my Isko and I walked through the stage. The music was a fast-beat one but we still managed to walk slowly to be able to execute the proper attitude while in a Santacruzan.

                        The third exposure was the “Wear-Your-Course” Attire. The attire worn here depicted everything about the course one is representing. The attires of both the Festival and the “Wear-Your-Course” were innovatively made by the third year BACA. It felt overwhelming because every time we speak, I could hear the cheers of the crowd.

                        “Nagkahiusa sukad pa sa una. Sa nagkadugay kini mas nihingpit pa. Madayaw nga gabii kaninyong tanan! Ako po si Kris Shelley Marie Tiu at ako naman po si Oliver Olivas. Tapang, talino at talento, dito niyo lang mahahanap sa kursong pinagtibay ng saya at tagumpay. We don’t just talk, we communicate. Mabuhay, BA Communication Arts!” was the statement OB and I uttered to introduce ourselves and our course.

                        The Sports Attire came next. Here, different sports were showcased by the nine courses. We chose to have golf as our sport. I was quite nervous that time because of all the sports attire, ours was the simplest. We did not have so many things to wear.

                        The fifth was the most feet- trembling moment, the talent portion. “Being A Geek” was the chosen music and interpretative dancing was our chosen talent to showcase. With God’s grace and help, OB and I successfully did our part, embracing the fact that we only had our practice for two days. We were assisted by a third year BACA, Kuya James, during the practices, to come up with a presentable number.

                     The Question and Answer portion was the last. There was a picture analysis via projector and at the same time, there was a question given us depending on the picture being flashed. The first time I saw the picture, I felt relieved from nervous because I was able to collect my thoughts immediately. However, when I was asked about my stand about health issues, I was a bit preoccupied. I couldn’t find the right words to say and the lights were very distracting. Also, spontaneous speaking in front of a crowd is not my forte. I think, those were the reasons why I was not able to give the most appropriate answer.

                        The last and my most awaited part of the program was the awarding. For me, it seemed to be the ending of my stress and pressure. Luckily, I had two special awards—the Anak UPMin Choice of Iska and the GabYouthful Choice of Iska. I also had three minor awards, the Best in Sports Attire, Best in Festival Attire, and Best in Wear-Your-Course Attire. Though I was not able to have my place in the top three, I still can’t replace the feeling of being special, given to me by those who care for me. I cannot thank God enough for the unconditional love and unending support of my course mates, making me forget my loss. At the end of the night, I really believed that it is not winning the title that counts, but how the people around me made me feel very special, despite not reaching their expectations. Most importantly, my Isko OB and I did our best.

It has never been my dream to study abroad since I was young. I just imagined that I’d be the typical average high school student who enjoys his company of friends, does his assignments whenever he needs to and just follows whatever his parents ask him to do. But everything changed in a single chit-chat of my parents with our family friend in the August of 2008. Voila! I was being asked to join my childhood friend to study abroad for a span of two months. I was like, is this really happening? Am I really going abroad alone? I’m just 13, are you even serious?!

It all started when my Tita asked my mom if I could go with Kariza, a childhood friend of mine, for a study tour in Xiamen, China. The tour was said to last for two months, making my whole summer a complete “study vacation” in China. At first, I was a little bit hesitant but then I looked at the bright side.  I could learn a lot more about the Chinese culture and language; not only that, it was also said that there would be tours for us overseas students to enjoy and not to get homesick. Thus, I readily and eagerly answered a YES to the invitation.

It was the morning of March 29^th, 2011 when I bid goodbye to my parents at the airport. I felt nervous, seriously, for it was really my first time to be separated from them. I felt deep inside that they were also sad about my leaving, but I believed that they’d be happy to know if I’d study hard and do the best I can while in China.

I spent two days in Manila for some picture taking and a breakfast with Mr. Lucio Tan, the popular business tycoon in the Philippines who sponsored the whole study trip. I then departed to Xiamen, China on the 31^st of March 2009.

I arrived at the airport nervous and excited—nervous because before, I was known to be one of the shy kids who prefers to stay alone as much as possible; and also excited, because my two- month adventure started there. But soon after, I didn’t feel any nervousness at all. Some unknown people just approached me and asked my name, and after that, I suddenly had friends! Going to such tour wasn’t a thing I should be nervous of, for I realized that there were a lot of students like me, who were also struggling because of their first time traveling without their parents.

Days went by and I continued to be the typical Filipino student who continued to learn the Chinese culture and language. Every day, I woke up at 8 a.m. in order to attend classes. There were Chinese language writing skills subject, the Chinese conversation ssubject, the Chinese singing subject, the Chinese painting subject, and lastly Wu Shu—the Chinese sport which was derived from Kung Fu.

Happy times continued to flourish as I continued on my adventurous journey. I met a lot of new friends from different parts of the Philippines-- Manila, Cebu, Iloilo, Cagayan de Oro, name it, I made friends from those places. I tried a lot of new things, like playing water fights on the soccer field in our dorm, having late night chats through the telephone at the dormitory, having some “adventures” all over the dorm, spending my money like there was no tomorrow (which caused my parents to get mad at me), and a lot more.  But, as we all know, people also experience some sad moments in some part of their life. There were times when I’d get homesick and suddenly miss my parents and my sister, though everything there seemed fun and joyous. There and then I realized that my family are the most important persons in my life.

On May 23^rd, 2009, we finally bid goodbye to our tour friends. I still clearly remember the time when we were bringing our bags down the elevator before going to the airport. We cried. We weren’t ready to leave one another. Everything was like a fairytale. We met new friends from all over the Philippines and suddenly realized that we will never ever see each other again. Never in my life had I thought that I would meet those kinds of people who cherished me and accepted me for the way I am. Thus, we continued crying until arriving in NAIA Terminal 2.

It all started with that simple chit-chat of my parents and my Tita that changed my whole outlook in life. My experiences, friendships, and lessons learned were all part of the study tour.

I never imagined the whole Xiamen Study Tour even in my wildest dreams. Without it, I may not have been the person I am at the present. Thus, I thank them—my parents, for giving me the opportunity to travel, learn, and discover—the beauty of life. 

         It was the second day of my stay in Singapore for the International Friendship Week and we were having ‘Tea Appreciation’ in a little tea-house across China Town. After we had prepared and drunk seven kinds of tea, we were given time to mingle with our tablemates before heading off to shop. My tablemates—three European girls and the girl I went to Singapore with, didn’t have much to talk about. That made me envious of the table next to us because they seemed to be having fun with their ‘Can you do this?’ game. I started bending my tongue in response to the other-table’s game which made the three European girls—Anja, Louise and Chiara, including my colleague, Fe, gush loudly in amazement. The others from the next table got intrigued and inquired what the commotion was all about then some of them decided to join us in our table after being impressed with my circus act.

 While they were all trying to imitate my little exhibition, and I laughed at how silly they looked, someone poked me on the shoulder and whispered, “Melissa, can you show me what you did with your tongue?” For some reason, my heart was overjoyed because the beautiful-poking-Danish-boy knew my name and said it with a different kind of ring only he could do. I gladly complied with his request and he moved to our table. I thought it would be the first and last encounter I would have with him because I didn’t think that he would have any interest in knowing me further. After all, I was just an ugly Filipina with nothing to boast but her bending-tongue exhibition. But I was wrong.

After the tea appreciation, we walked together to Chinatown and on the way he asked things about my life, my family, and other stuff that is very unusual for an uninterested boy. We parted for a while when he tried to search for a pair of sunglasses that looked just like mine—I shopped for some souvenirs too, and we hung out once again after his failed search. We had a lot of fun that day especially when he joked about having a crush on a half-naked fat man sleeping on one of the benches outside the temple. He dared me to get the fat-man’s number for him thinking I can’t do it. But when I started walking towards the fat man, he grasped my forearm and begged me to stop. I froze. I did not expect that his touch would be that electrifying and I was pretty sure he was surprised with what he did too, but instead of letting go, he caressed my forearm and said, “Your skin is so soft,” then caressed it some more before letting go. The day was nearing an end when I found out his name—Lauge, and at almost the same time the bus collected us.

The next morning, he asked me if I wanted to hear something funny—I said yes, he told me that his host-partner asked if we were in a relationship. We both laughed but after a while, his face turned anxious and he blurted out the words, “…but if it’s fine with you, we can be like boyfriend and girlfriend for like three days or…” he didn’t have the chance to finish his sentence because I walked out in pure embarrassment but I was grinning like an idiot the whole time. I expected to have an awkward atmosphere with him after that but it only made us closer.

There were a lot of questions and teasing about us, but I admired how he didn’t mind all that fuss. His best friend kept on reminding him that he had a girlfriend at home but he continued to treat me like he wanted to prove those rumors right. There were times when I tried to keep a distance from him—keep my guard up, just so I wouldn’t fall for an already committed man, but he would make a way to destroy my shield and we ended up enjoying each other’s company while it lasted.

                        During the last day of the event, we spent the whole day in Sentosa. That place was the witness of all the wonderful moments I had with him before we finally bid goodbye. There was an awful sadness I felt when we went back to the hosting-school in the evening. After we took group pictures, Lauge asked me if we could have a picture together just the two of us. Before I could say yes, the principal from a school in Germany said, “Yes! You two should have a picture together. I’ll take it!” It was quite embarrassing to stand next to him and to have our photo taken by a school principal!

            It was dinner time when everyone started to get everybody’s email addresses. While I was typing mine on the iPhone of Jan, a German participant and friend, Lauge moved in and hugged me in front of everybody long enough for Jan to say “Yes, you should hug your wife, Lauge”

            When we finally bid our goodbyes, I hugged each and everyone. Lauge was crying and fretting about how gay he was with what he’s doing. When it was my time to hug him, I was hesitant but it was good that he initiated the move. It was really long, and I joked about how he’ll miss our friend, Karla, the most. “No, you’re the one I’m going to miss the most” he rebutted and with a soft slightly parted lips pressed against my neck, he hugged me tighter and I gloried in his arms for the last time.

            We all left Singapore the next morning— my companions and I headed to Malaysia and the others back to their hometowns. Lauge had asked me, the night before, if I can come and see him before he goes back to Denmark, but I didn’t make it. I felt a silent ironic painful numbness when I finally realized that we will never see each other again.

Have you ever fallen in love? That feeling when things just don’t make sense without it? That addictive feeling that you experience almost to a point that nothing else is in your mind other than that? Well, if you think this piece of paper would contain stories about me and girls then you won’t find it here because I’m going to talk about how I met my true love, my love for the drums.

I grew up in a musically inclined family. My father and older brother can play the guitar and all of us sing and in one way or another, you’re obliged to learn an instrument. My family often suggested when I was young that I learn how to play the piano. In fact they even hired a piano teacher for me. But pressing motionless and lifeless keys made of wood, which were too orderly and safe for my liking, wasn’t really the most exciting of activities. I felt bad because when I told my father that I didn’t want to pursue what he wanted, he was disappointed, so I sought another instrument, the bass guitar.

It was introduced to me by my brother, who needed a practice buddy, because at that time he had a band and more often than not they had to practice individually on their own time. So there I was, a young child forced to play an instrument that it obviously ten years too early for me, but my parents were so glad to see me trying to play that they even bought one for me, and because I was presumably a good child, I wanted to make them happy, so I tried to learn the instrument. I practiced and practiced to the point where my little fingers would get bruised and eventually grow calluses because of the thick, rough and rusty strings, not to mention the long frets of the bass guitar. I was clearly struggling. So once again, I quit.

Then I found this instrument that was the gateway for me to finding my true love. I saw it first at a party celebrating my godfather’s birthday. The first time I used the box drum felt so familiar. I mastered it after a few months but I thought there was something missing. I was looking for variety.

I sought after variety so I asked my father if I could start attending drum lessons. Soon after asking my father, I started attending class at Conpinco music studio. I was pretty nervous because it was the first time that I would be playing the drums. Negative thoughts kept pounding my mind as I entered the room. What if I fail? What if this thing would turn out to be another failure? What if I disappoint my family again? Thoughts like this invaded my mind. But all these thoughts got washed away when I hit the drums for the first time. Sound waves that sent chills to my bones bounced back and forth across the small room after hitting the drums. It was a glorious feeling.  It was love at first sight, well, technically, love at first hit.

I have been falling in love with these cylindrical pieces of wood covered with thick plastic covering that make unique sounds, this thing that we call the drums, more and more each day –  ever since the first time I laid hands on them. Every time I smack the cymbals with all my might. Every time I hit the tums. Every time I use the pedal of the drums, stomping my feet like there was no tomorrow. I felt like I was becoming one with it. People call it faith, others call it destiny, but the one thing I know for certain was that we were made for each other to make eargasmic music together. And together, we’ll make the world a beat better.

I can still remember the day when making the right choice was the biggest challenge of my life. Two years ago, I had a life-threatening disease that could have led to my death. It all started last December 31, 2010 in our province, Malita, Davao del Sur when I woke up at three o’clock in the afternoon. When I went out of the room, I saw my Tita preparing the ingredients for our dinner. Since that dish was really my favorite, I decided to eat only bread so that I can eat a lot more later. We were in church attending mass at six o’clock in the evening when the upper part of my stomach ached. My mother and I assumed that it was nothing and I just needed to apply some liniment on it.

When we arrived home, the dinner was ready. And since I only had bread for breakfast and lunch, I ate a lot until my stomach ached again. The feeling was as if I was still hungry. So I went to my room and rested but I found myself eating again, thinking I could ease the pain in that way. But the pain never went away, it hurt even more. I cried and cried because I was already feeling back pains and this scared my mother. She brought me to the hospital, but the doctor said that it was just ulcer and gave me medicines for it.

I took the medicines, but there were really no changes, no effect at all. So my Tito decided to call a faith healer. The faith healer arrived, prayers were said and rituals were done. But still, the pain that I felt was still there. My mother was very worried, but the fear I felt in my heart was worse. I didn’t know what to say, I didn’t know what to do. I tried to keep calm but the thoughts in my head were really bothering me. I had the worst New Year’s gift ever, celebrating New Year lying in bed and suffering from stomach pain.

The next morning, we decided to go home to Davao so that we could go to a better hospital. I was a little relieved from the pain. When we got home, I even started to make my project to pass when classes resume on January 3. A few minutes later, I started to feel the pain again, but I didn’t mind because I really had to finish my work. At six o’clock, the pain was back again! I cried and my mother said that we will go to the hospital the next day. So I lied in my bed crying and trying to fight against the pain. I prayed to God and told Him that I needed Him. “Lord, if you want to take me now, please take me. Because I can’t.. I can’t do this anymore...” I begged as tears fell from my eyes.

I called out for my mother and told her that I wanted to go to the hospital. When we arrived at San Pedro Hospital, a nurse offered me a wheelchair but I said I could still walk. As we entered the Emergency Room, I was worried because there were so many patients. Minutes later, a nurse or maybe a doctor examined me and asked me some questions. I was admitted and was not allowed to eat nor drink for a couple of days.

The first night was the worst; I cried so much, which made my mother and the nurses panic. My mother was complaining because they didn’t do anything for me to feel better. The nurses were trying their best, I knew. It was four or five in the morning when I fell asleep.  When I woke up, I wanted to eat but sadly, I couldn’t. My doctor arrived and said that I’m going to take some laboratory tests. So after many tests like x-ray, ultrasounds, and others, the doctor said that it was Pancreatitis. It is inflammation of the pancreas, which required immediate medical attention and hospitalization during an attack. If not prevented, this can damage blood vessels and lead to internal bleeding, which may be life-threatening.

            It was my third day in the hospital when my classmates came to visit me. And then I remembered that classes had already resumed two days ago. I felt like I wanted to regret all the things I did that made me have this disease but I didn’t, because I believed that everything happens for a reason and God has plans for me. So the next day, I was allowed to eat and drink a little because the doctor said I was recovering. That news made me and my Mom very happy.

            It was Friday when my doctor said I could go home. The pain went away and I was already fine. The doctor told me about the things not to eat and not to drink: acidic foods and alcoholic beverages. The doctor also said that we must be thankful that I was brought to the hospital in time because if I were not, I could have died.

            I left the hospital with such happiness in my heart, because I survived, because God has given me another chance to live, and because I made the right choice – to live. The things that we have and the things that are happening now are all from the choices we make, from the very moment we open our eyes to the moment we close them. It is our own choice, and it will always be that way.