OMFG.

A bomb exploded in one of the malls I used to frequent in the Philippines. There were casualties, there were injuries, and there is instant reaction.

I know the Philippines has long been blacklisted among tourist spots but I never took it seriously. It had been going on so long that it all seemed perfunctory. What was the big deal? I lived there and I survived. There was nothing to be scared of except the usual petty criminal or the more dangerous drug addict. The usual stuff you’d see anywhere in the world.

Okay, so maybe there was a difference. There were a TON of bomb scares and security measures taken while I was living there (and is probably still on-going). Before you entered any mall, it was common to pass through a joke of a security check where you zipped open your bag for the guard to wave his or her “wand” inside it. It was all a nuisance, really, a cause of long lines at every mall door.

Sure, maybe the security measures taken did deter the casual prankster, but for the determined bomber, isn’t it all about “where there’s a will, there’s a way?” And so they found a way to blow up part of the most popular mall in the financial district.

Would I stop going to that mall if I still lived close enough to go to it? No. But the whole incident just changes your perspective about places where you think you’ll be safe.

Nowhere is 100% safe.

Was it the timing? A friend asked late one Christmas eve.

She idly flipped through the book, put her nose close to the pages so she could take in the new book smell. She’d waited for it to turn midnight so she could open this gift because the giver had asked her to, and she waited still for the text message that might change everything.

Her friend kept her awake in the meantime, at first with amused shock at the green thong she’d given him as a joke, then with random insight.

Bad timing? She repeated sleepily. Maybe.

When she was more awake, she realized that was exactly what it was. So she did what she had to do through the intimateness of blocky chat windows and moved on.

Years later, it’s happening again. Except this time, she’s tempted to ignore the bad timing.

–

Note: What’s a half-truth? Also, if this were true in any way, it wouldn’t pertain to anyone who reads this blog.

I’m going to need more training.

I feel so out of sync with Philippine happenings now, most especially with my alma mater. I wish I could see just one live DLSU vs. Ateneo game. I bet it’s INTENSE because of how long the rivalry has been going on. Tickets always sell out when it comes to our teams versing each other, which is why it always drags into 3 games instead of just 2. The scalpers must’ve had several field days.

Word is, the Ateneo Blue Eagles beat the La Salle Green Archers 3 to 2 this season, and yet La Salle was the one who moved onto the finals and eventual overall championship.

Which is why I’d still rather be green than …blue. (Gosh, I really want one of those shirts.)

In other Philippine-related news, Manny Pacquiao rules yet again! It goes to show how badly we need a hero in the Philippines when a Pacquiao fight can inspire a ceasefire (informal though it may have been).

I am not a toy.

Just thought I’d let everyone know that.

When I arrived in Hawaii, my aunt still had work to do so she did what any multi-tasking teacher does - she brought me to class.

It was their last day before the intercession break. The last time I was in the islands (back when I was ten) she brought me to class then too. All her students then were so much older than me. Now I’m so much older than they are (yet this didn’t stop some of her seniors from asking me what my exact age was - and then cringing, LOL.)

My aunt teaches ESL (English as a Secondary Language). Since Hawaii was a choice spot for Filipino immigrants, she had a lot of Philippine-born students. It was cute how one of them called me ‘ate’ (term of respect for an older sister). I used to disdain those terms of respect but now I kind of like them.

Being among those Filipino students made me realize once again how different I look from a typical Filipino. And even though they were in the States, they still had that colonial mentality where they envied white skin over brown. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with looking tan, do you? I’d like to get a little darker myself. I can be so blindingly white when I’m splashing about the ocean.

Overall, my aunt had nice kids. The nicest batch she’s ever had, in fact. They loved her as well, despite the fact that she’s one of their terror teachers. I know teachers complain about getting no respect, but to me, that’s real respect. Students are a tough crowd to please. Getting their affections must be a real feat.

I work in a place where the males outnumber the females, probably 4 to 1. Because of that, I get a lot of recommendations for things that aren’t exactly up my alley.

One recent rec is a book called Snow Crash by Neil Stephenson. Total guy book. I should’ve known! Every single person who told me it was the best book ever was a guy. Never heard such a glowing rec from a girl (except maybe H.C. but I think she just said she’d read it). In fact, one of my female officemates noted how I was reading it. Her comment was, “It’s a little hard to get into.” It’s not, really, not if you like that sort of thing. Anything you’re not such a fan of can be hard to get into.

Snow Crash isn’t the usual type of book I like to read so it took me several weeks before I even cracked it open. (I’d gotten my copy from a co-worker who was very into it.) Several hours on an airplane proved a good incentive to get started. The style looked easy enough to read, yet I found myself going through the pages at an unusually slow pace. There was a lot going on - action, reflection, history, philosophy - all mashed up and thrown at me in somewhat manageable chunks. I say somewhat because I still had to go back and reread, to actually think as opposed to consume.

As always, the book got good about midway - good in the sense that I wanted to keep reading even though I’d just been on the plane for 5 hours, even if it was past midnight, even if I had to wake up to go to work in the next couple of hours. That kind of good.

I should be able to plow through the rest in two or three more BART rides. There’s something to be said about reading outside your usual books. For one, there’s the exposure to different ideas. For another, it’s cool to see how a different style of writing works. I know it’s good when it kind of infects me for a little while, casting an undertone to whatever I write. Cool stuff.

Random observation: I feel like these type of books tend to think of skateboarders as ultra-cool. That’s how they’re always portrayed: from K.T. the Kourier to even Tally of the young adult Uglies trilogy.

It was partly cloudy when we began our descent onto the island of Oahu. The presence of clouds didn’t stop the sun from breaking through and beating through the plane windows. We hadn’t even touched down and already I could feel the heat. (The fact that there was a good-looking guy sitting in front of me had nothing to do with that.)

It was humid when we disembarked. I immediately wished I’d brought a hand towel. I always had one when I was in the Philippines because it was impossible not to break out in sweat there. I also wished I could’ve worn jeans, but I was told to dress up in case I could get bumped up to first class. No such luck; the flight was full. It was lucky I made it at all considering I didn’t make the previous flight and had to go in to work instead. (Which isn’t as bad as it sounds because there was a lot to do still.) The problem with dressing up was I felt slightly too city-ish for the islands.

That’s one thing I’ve noticed since arriving here - there is a clear distinction between the mainland and the islands. I never thought there was a difference, but there is… at least to the people who live here.

My aunt points out that the island people are much nicer than the mainland population, and as far as I can tell, that’s somewhat true. Road-wise, there is more consideration given to other drivers. Someone even pulled up alongside us to let us know our tire was verging on flat. Of course I was paranoid about the guy still being behind us when we pulled over into a local shopping plaza, but my aunt waved it off, stating it was normal for people to help each other out in Hawaii. (I learned how to pronounce Hawaii properly! Ha va ee! Ha wa ee will also pass the test.) This didn’t stop her from renewing the fear in me later that night about the dangers of going out late at night. The fact that she’s a high school teacher teaching in a bad neighborhood somehow gives her more authority on the matter. Some messed up stuff has happened to her students.

“I don’t want you to become another statistic.” she told me. Throwing up her hands, she added, “I’m so glad I never had any kids!”

Apart from street smart safety and having no kids, there were many other things pounded back into my head. My aunt is the type who can talk about anything under the sun, and then some. Like how meeting your soulmate isn’t really as great as it’s made out to be or how to make a cheese sandwich on the pan. The trivial, the serious, the plain filthy, everything.

So Hawaii has been more about family than beaches so far, but who says that’s any less fun?

I hope that the next time I post, I’ll be somewhere tropical!

I’d have loved to go home early but I feel like I’m leaving such a load behind me. So I’m finishing up some last things before I go, even though I know there’s lots of other ends that needs tying that will never be tied, not really.

I’m tired because I slept so late and still got to work so early. It’s too bad I don’t drink coffee. That would’ve helped. Waaaaaaaning right now despite being at regular energy levels for most of the day.

I’m really glad I packed 90% of my things last night. Less to worry about once I get home.

Wheeee!