Mayo Uno (and how it changed me)

Disclaimer: This was written last May 1, 2016 after reminiscing my first ever Labor Day rally in 2015. 

We were in our 3rd-year high school when our Social Studies professor, Sir Joel, required us to read the daily news. Every other day, he would call a random person to report whatever he or she has read. We loved that class, but we hated reading current events as much as we hated reporting in front. Come on! We were just bunch of teenagers with juvenile love problems and acne breakouts. Who would care about Erap or Gloria that time if you were a tween? Sir Joel was the one who told us that Andres Bonifacio should be our first President and how Emilio Aguinaldo was a traitor. That professor was not afraid to teach us the other side of our history, but most of us, including me, never really cared.  My social studies professor was branded as an activist in the campus. In fact, our school was known for having progressive professors. I still graduated thinking that Aguinaldo was a hero.

I was never a fan of political activists. I never gave myself a chance to study about what they were shouting on the streets.  I grew up in a very secured apolitical community maybe because we were living a relatively comfortable life. People would always tell me, “these activists cannot just keep quiet” or “these people are always negative”, or “these people are getting paid by their leaders to participate in pickets”. I even got the “these activists are actually getting support from the communist Chinese Government”. These people were the intellectuals which I looked up to. I grew up thinking that a rally or any other organized-revolutionary activities were not the solutions to the pressing issues of our country. Many would tell me that we cannot blame everything to the Government. Continue reading “Mayo Uno (and how it changed me)”

What 1111 means to me

Disclaimer: This post was originally written last year (2016) a week after November 11, 2016.

A couple of weeks ago, my family and I spent a 4-day weekend in Baguio City, Philippines to celebrate my Dad’s 50th birthday. Baguio City is the family’s refuge and my mom’s favorite city; the 6-hour bus ride is worth it because of the good weather, fresh air, serene views and a melting pot of people from different parts of the country. The crowd was never a problem. Though my dad’s 50th is still on November 12, he requested the whole family, which means me and my mom, to hike Mount Ulap, a mountain in Benguet with 1 out of 5 difficulty level the day before his birthday. This is a perfect opportunity for me to travel, to bond with my parents and to make November 11 or 11.11 memorable to me, as it is also memorable to those who believe in Numerology.

Continue reading “What 1111 means to me”