Lock and Unlock

Photo credit: Erin Schroeder

After being stranded in Manila since March because of the COVID-19 lockdown, I finally flew home. This period has brought my mind into sorting out some things in my emotional ship and - in a good way - without abandoning it. One thing I realised is that I have been trapped into this kind of personal gridlocks.

First, I think that I have been trying too much to be the independent person I wanted to be - stable, happy, and fine. I have always wanted to live by my own and so I have lived by my own in the last years. Little did I know that in the process I was locking myself into my selfish world and away from the persons that matter in my life - family, friends, and colleagues.

I have successfully reduced my world into a smaller circle of people that matters most but what I missed all these years is to have a bigger heart. I want to rediscover my simple, kind, and generous self. I want to stay more understandingly with my family, talk more empathetically with my friends, and connect more meaningfully with my colleagues.

Moreover, I have always kept unworthy emotions against people I had different perspectives and for things that went off my way. I guess I have been too much passionate about what my own perspectives to the point that I take people and things personally. I burned bridges and denied paving some roads. I locked myself into the grease traps of contempt, hatred and disdain.

I have decided to unlock myself by releasing such bad personal sentiments and accepting circumstances as they are than as what I think they are. The important thing is I have forgiven people and most importantly myself. I now just want to live with no emotional baggages, just a grateful heart and peaceful mind. I want to be a calm and graceful lake than a swelling and chaotic sea.

Lastly, while I graduated from too much showing off, I was mad to some extent at being proud of myself. I have tamed myself from brandishing my gains around like accessories around my neck. However, I seemed to have missed one thing in the process: to not get things through my head. Yes, it is such a shame but I admit I lost my feet on the ground.

I realised that achievements are only footnotes to the barometer of life fulfilment. I need to learn to get off my high horse because at the end of the day it is not the medals that count but the kind of my heart. One of my mantras should be to always be sincerely humble. Continue to celebrate in private but always keep the humility in place. Keep some pride when it matters but exercise with caution.

God, thank you for the continual guidance. “Human strength plus intelligence cannot unlock the door that God is hiding its key” -Bamigboye Olurotimi. I believe this.

Faith in Humanity Restored

What I love most about traveling is there is just so much to learn, not only about different cultures, but also about humanity.

One time I was on my way back to Singapore from an all day island hop. I was in the waiting lounge of the ferry terminal and looking confused about which gate for which shipping company. An old Singaporean woman, after probably observing my confusion, came close and asked to check my ticket. She said we would be on the same ferry and assured me. I wanted to stay with her but the seats beside her were occupied, so I sat a few chairs away. When it was time to get aboard to the ferry, passengers stood up in unison and I saw her come my way to ensure that I would go with her.

On my other trips, I have experienced such simple but wonderful acts of kindness many times either that Thai who does not speak the international language but gestured to take me picture after seeing I was alone; a Macanese who translated what I wanted to say to the vendor in the market; a Malaysian who helped me book a bus ticket during a peak day; a Chinese who was off to work but took time to accompany just to ensure that I reach my destination; a group of Japanese teens who offered free hugs in the street; an old Indonesian couple who were too kind to treat me like their grandchild; or any body who made the world a little brighter by just giving a smile.

Strange but these experiences made me feel inspired that there is still hope in humanity... that we are never too old, too poor, too stranger to be good to others.

I will definitely love more of you, world!

Falling in Love with George Town, Malaysia

I feel brave and creative after my recent side trip to this UNESCO World Heritage Site of George Town, Penang, Malaysia. It is not popular for many travellers to hop to this underrated colonial village. Maybe also because I am just one of those few weird culture junkies who love old structures and is willing to endure long, long distance travels and searches just to see an old grandeur! 

It was morning of the next day when I arrived in George Town after twelve hours of bus ride crossing the borders between Singapore and Malaysia. I did not catch some good sleep while seated in the bus the whole time but I felt my adrenaline rushed as I saw and heard the bustle of the old town coming near! I just heard my inner self scream: I am finally in George Town!

I have read about the famous street arts scattered around the old city, but my original interest really was exploring the old structures that wonderfully make up the city. However, after some strolls, I did not expect that these old structures are not as old as I expected. They sure are every where but most of them were built only as recent as 1930s, much like those old buildings in Singapore.

I know that comparing Vigan and George Town is useless like comparing apple and orange because each of them is uniquely beautiful by the virtue of their own cultures and histories. But since I have been both to these quaint colonial cities, I am indulging myself to placing them side by side for some good reasons.

I can say that Vigan gives that wonderful vibe of a classical colonial charm. The horse drawn carriages, cobbled stone paths and gleaming street lamps simply add elegance and vibrance to Vigan. George Town, on the other hand, is a colourful blend. One can see Bhuddism, Hinduism, Muslim and Christian influences in the style of its houses and other structures. 

I must agree though that what makes both charming is its people. Everyone I rubbed elbows in George Town was just welcoming. The moment I arrived in George Town, the lady who drove me to my hotel was very helpful. She even helped me buy ticket back to KL. The man I asked in the street was also very informative. He guided me which museum to go. I saw sunshine in every nook I go as people were just smiling.

Meet my new Malaysian friends!

But perhaps the most exciting activity indeed in George Town is art hunting. And mind you these art pieces adorning the streets and alleys of the city are no ordinary paintings. These murals were installed in 2012 by a Lithuanian artist with the help of Penang government council. What makes the paintings unconventional for pretty amazing reason is the fact that selected parts of the art pieces are real objects – some props set up against the wooden door, window or wall!

Some of my favorite art pieces aside from the Brother and Sister on a Swing featured in the picture above are: Little Children on a Bicycle, The Real Bruce Lee Would Never Do This, Boy in the Bike, Reaching Up, Children Playing Basketball, I Want Pau, Skippy Comes to Penang, and a lot more! If you are interested to check my own trail of musings to these artistic objects, kindly visit my album here.

I must confess that, after side tripping to George Town, I fell deeply in love not only with its rich culture, but also with the creativity and tenacity of its people. There are a few cities in the word that maintains its old character as much as George Town does. It continues to reinvent itself but without altering its old self. On a more retrospective thought, I can only hope that George Town is much like we to our old selves.

Terima kasih for the wonderful experience, George Town! This is not the last visit surely, I vow!

There is Something about Sunset that He Likes

A beautiful sunset taken in Central Java, Indonesia.

Papers are waiting for him - journal critiques, desk reviews, annotated bibliographies, research proposals, and data analyses. No dramas.

Goodbye, Turbulent Twenties! Hello, Tumultuous Thirties!

I am celebrating my birthday today for two more special reasons:

For one, it's time to kiss goodbye to the twenties, the so called turbulent period of life. As I look back, I can't help but smile in contentment with what has been my journey for the past ten years. It should be very significant for many events. 

It was when I graduated in college and passed the LET - all with flying colors! I immediately got my first teaching work and went to pursue graduate studies. I further went to serve public school, and finally MSU, my ultimate goal.

Of course, it is not without bitter experiences. As I went between the transition periods of my career exploration, I experienced pressures socially, emotionally and mentally. It was when I thought my credentials were useless and I was left behind by my peers in many personal and professional aspects.

The twenties was also the time when I had my first taste of a romantic relationship. I also became "Tito Mike" to my pretty nieces! I started finding my niche in the field of education as a curriculum enthusiast and a budding researcher.

But it was also the stage when life tore my heart into smithereens. So, I experienced the first cut, a real break up. I had to balance work commitments and bigger roles for a maturing person.

With that rollercoaster experience, destiny plucked me from the comforts of home and sent me away to UP where now I am serenely growing up... in the tested standards of this premier institution... in the balancing struggle between theory and practice... in the sacrifice of personal love for a greater passion.

For another reason to that effect, I am also entering today to a new chapter of my life - the tumultuous period of thirties! I don't know what life holds ahead for my future but two things are I am sure for my self: I trust for the best and I just want to savor things as they come...

My birthday wishes - for every one.

Japan Spring: A Celebration of Things Old and New

A celebration of things old and new - this is the insight that made a significant mark to my mind soon after my Japan trip for eleven days. I think that it is an appropriate phrase for a sojourn to heritage places -  a symbol for things old; for a journey on spring time - a symbol for things new.

One of the most exciting part of our trip was seeing the famous cherry blossoms or sakura, especially when we are about two weeks late from the blooming season. Luckily and delightfully, we found some last cherry trees that bore flowers abundantly - pink, white and green. Every time we found one, our company swarmed around these natural beauties and take many photographs. 

I have not lived in Japan long enough, but I think that when cherry trees bloom, they are the most beautiful on earth. And when they do, they only bloom so for a certain short period. As what some romantic poets have celebrated on spring, cherry blossom is the best reminder that life is wonderful but only momentary.

Celebration of spring!

I also appreciate how Japanese people are passionate about for their culture. Japan is a testament that a country can go forward to progress without disregarding culture. Going to some of their cities, we found their ancient castles, temples and other historical landmarks exceptionally well preserved. One could see how love is written all over these old structures.

One time, we visited the quaint Kintai Bridge. I was touched about the past story behind the old bridge. I learned that locals once built protective structure around the bridge to save it from the raging typhoon one time. However, the bridge did not survive; locals tearfully watched the it get washed away by the great flood. But in a short span of time, the locals amazingly rebuilt the bridge piece by piece as a remembrance to the old heritage.

Japanese culture is also famous for the origami, the ancient art of paper folding. Japanese children learn origami early at the lap of their mothers. While some people may think it is just a plain paper folding, it actually reflects the ingenuity and aesthetics of Japanese culture. This is a unique art of living – a reminder of patience, resilience and discipline - values which are written and reflected all over Japan. 

This art forms a part of Japanese curriculum. Aside from integrating a uniquely Japanese trademark to their education, I am amazed how actually paper folding does cognitive advantages for learners. Aside from developing fine motor skills, origami is a pictorial learning through repeatable actions, and by transforming a flat piece of paper into a three dimensional crane, it is also a cognitive stimulation of spatial reasoning. Now, I wonder not why Japanese are very good in mathematics and science!

While they have proved their world leadership when it comes to technology and economy, I am amazed as well to know that they have maintained their communion with nature. I think that Japanese people are one of the few most passionate people about living with nature as we all are from nature and forever interconnected to nature.

Visiting some cities, I marveled at how organized are the spaces. Just a few kilometers from the urban center, one would feel like being transported to a completely different place because the outer villages still maintain their rural vibes. Trees are well taken cared and animals, like deer, turtle and bird, live in harmony with people.

This article is not enough to vicariously contain all the wonderful memories I gained but personally, Japan will always be a special place in the world being a perfect blend of heritage and progress... of environment and culture... of old and new....

Sayonara, Japan! Until I see you again!

Nuggets of Wisdom from "The Mirror Has Two Faces" Film

Photo credits to http://www.imdb.com.

It is seldom that I write about a movie because the matter of fact is I am not really a movie bum. But I guess this wisdom from a movie clip I happened to watch somewhere recently is worth sharing. It is from the film entitled The Mirror Has Two Faces (1996) starring Barbara Streisand as a teacher and the protagonist.

At the conclusion of her lesson on love, this conversation happened:

Barbara: So the final question is: Why do people want to fall in love when it can have such a short run and be so painful?

Student 1: Propagation of the species?

Student 2: We need to connect with somebody?

Student 3: Are we culturally preconditioned?

Barbara: Good, but too intellectual for me. l think it is because, as some of you may already know… while it does last, it feels fucking great.

A Story of Puddles and Rainbows

I CAN MOVE ON... I still remember those famous last words in the final good bye I told you. A puddle of tears welled in my eyes because I knew that time that my once happy world would never be the same again.

But still I remember the days when we first exchanged words and smiled at each other. I remember when we ate together and watched movie together. I remember your surprises. I remember when we held hands as we walked down that empty road on a sunset. I remember the late evenings we talked over the phone about sweet nothings.

But not all people stay, not all stories end happily ever after. That day when we parted ways, I walked away and kissed the first man I bumped into. Okay, lying aside, I actually slept with the memory of you and woke up with the memory of you. I went to the park and looked for you. No, it was actually you that I saw in all their faces. I drank much, talked much, and laughed much. And when I got home, I cried rivers.

But one day I woke up without the memories of you. I retrieved one but it looked as delicate as the soft edges of an old photograph. I still saw your face and your smile, but they did not cut my heart the way they did then. I looked at the mirror, took a flight of stairs, and I passed by the places we went together, but they did not make my heart break again. After all, they were just places.

But here I am writing about you once more. But instead of writing a perfect metaphor about your eyes or an abstract attribution about how your love used to hold my heart, I am writing this piece to deliver eulogy to a memory that is very soon to be placed in its proper place... away where it will not hurt anymore... to the catacombs of the past.

I CAN MOVE ON... I still remember those famous last words in the final good bye I told you. A puddle of tears welled in my eyes, but this time I know, as the saying goes, there is a rainbow always after the rain.

A beautiful promise. I captured this rainbow two years ago.

Tall Orders and New Journeys

If I will describe the immediate past year, the title of this post would best capture it all. It was the year of turning points, characterized by tall orders that I needed to conquer bravely and new journeys to an exciting spectrum of experiences. I can only look back at all those memories with a smile at this moment, knowing that such events made me a better person today.

Here are my six tall orders and new journeys last year that I will forever cherish as part of my summer years:

Getting my Ph.D. Curriculum Studies in UP. When I was removed by destiny from the comforts of home away to a "foreign land", all I could muster were a sigh of shock. I was shocked that all of a sudden I had to get out of my comfort zone out to the unknowns. I never expected this scholarship too soon and I started packing my things and emotions early last year. But I thought about the confidence of my university to my capacity, the prayers of my family and friends, and my passion for the profession that I share with the humanity. Voila!

Learning the ropes of curriculum. An advantage when you are in a top university is the access to knowledge. When I was teaching a course in curriculum development in the college, I have always wondered how is curriculum developed from scratches. Books would tell the theories and principles but not the process based on the experience. Being a curriculum apprentice, I learned the process of planning the curriculum considering the different sources and influences. I got the chance to learn from reading books in curriculum development, workshops in our classes and frequent observations in the curriculum reviews of my program adviser. "Kung babalik ka na sa MSU, marunong ka na gumawa ng curriculum," my program adviser once told me. But honestly I am not still very confident that I feel there is still really so many things to learn out there. More!

Meeting my maternal relatives in Abra. There was another point in my journey away from home: to meet my relatives in my mother side. Some people are nostalgic about sciences; others about cultures. Are there people like me who are nostalgic about family relationships? It was truly a wonderful time finally meeting people I have never seen in my life but are people who belong to my "family". Xoxo!

Organizing international conference in curriculum studies. It is nice to rub elbows with people who are passionate about their discipline. This year, I am truly grateful for having the opportunity to head one of the committees of the 1st Asia Pacific Conference on Curriculum Studies and Instructional Designing. I learned so much about my discipline as it is one of a kind conference that is solely dedicated to discuss trends in curriculum studies. I knew great people like Dr. Murray Print who was our keynote speaker and actually the author of Curriculum Development book. The conference also opened opportunities to learn from the curriculum researches of presenters. And most of all, valuable lessons from event as organizers are well taken to experience. Longlive!

Sitting on two ancient civilizations in Thailand and Cambodia respectively.

Conquering borders of Thailand and Cambodia. I have always been a culture junkie but I really have not traveled abroad to experience the culture of the world. Our travel to Thailand and Cambodia was a blast to consider that it was a single journey but hitting two countries. My favorite historical place in Thailand includes the Grand Royal Palace located just right at the heart of the city. It boasts of old palaces and temples that show the culture of Thailand. When in Cambodia, it is like never having been to Cambodia without roaming around the ancient complex of Angkor Watt. It is big complex of cities that depict the history of the country and perhaps of the region. Traveling is education!

Moving on and a closure. Late last year, I finally had the guts to talk to the former love of my heart. Moving on from that person is one thing but I will admit that I have not really moved on from the affair. I think time and distance have their own ways of healing broken hearts, and it did to mine. After a lot of heavy ruminations on nights I spent alone, I have forgiven the person and importantly myself in that journey that had to end. The light feeling over our serious conversation recently must be a sign that I am in the right path of my emotional state. Alas!

For all these things, I thank God for all His goodness to my life and the lives of the ones I dearly love. My fervent wish for everybody is very simple that:

May our new year be filled with wonderful dreams and good madness. I wish we travel to places, hug people who think we are awesome, and read good books and stories of inspiring people. And I hope to hear surprises from everyone. 

Thank you for everything! Keep the new year awesome as you are!

Lost in the Missing

"Is it possible to miss someone you do not know?" That is the question that has been haunting my soul. Because I have been missing someone so terribly lately.

Impressed with the discipline of philosophy here in UP like I have never been in my previous philosophy classes, I came with this question of reality of a human feeling. There are just feelings in this world that are antithesis to the normal feelings we know as humans. It is like an elephant learning to fly. Or like black as the new pink.

But what if, indeed, these feelings we know as normal is only a manifestation of our subjective human understanding and the real normal is the exact opposite of everything? What if missing someone you know is only a feeling influenced by what our culture of emotion is used to feel and the reality is that it is possible for us to miss another human we never know at all? I do not know. But who knows.

How does it feel to miss someone you do not know... is yearning, wanting, hoping, desiring... of a person you never know in your life personally, not even in a closer space or time. It happens when you are obsessed with the idea of the identity of that person... the look you never saw, the voice you never heard, the feelings you never felt. 

It is not perhaps the object of that person I miss but the essence of that person... the existence of that person whether that person exists in either kind of reality. But would it matter to argue the nuances between the object and essence of that person as the point of missing? That would be useless because I miss everything about that person....

This is the feeling I am feeling right now... lost in the missing.

Abra in Time: Meeting My Family in the North

I never personally knew my maternal relatives. Back in my childhood, I only read them through snail mails that my grandmother shared with them and through her stories. But my hope of meeting them personally - to share stories of our family, to know how they are feeling - has never left me since then.

The drama of my UP journey came as a mission of many purposes. There was one important purpose: to personally meet my family in the North. And last Holy Week was indeed the perfect chance to finally get to know them although a few of them were home.

I did travel the roads of Ilocos Region three years ago, and passing again by that long, dry road made me realize how hard the journey of my grandparents was. As I posted, I saw harsh landscape of undulating plains, whipped by blistering winds... and this could probably describe also the journey of my grandparents many decades ago. That was the time when they had to leave the region in search for a place in Mindanao to build their new home... and their new dreams.

On the second bus that I took aboard, I was seated in front - a perfect spot that I was able to capture the iconic tunnel of the province of Abra. This welcomed my very first sojourn to the land where my forebears came. And it was just so amazing, knowing that finally I am home for the first time!

My Lolo Porcing, the youngest brother of my grandmother, waited for me in the capital of the province. I immediately recognized him, and I hugged his beautiful wife, Lola Norma. He looks like the handsome male version of my grandmother. We drove for about an hour before we reached the ancestral house where my great grandparents and grandmother once lived. "Ito ang bahay natin," said Lolo Porcing. It was so sweet.

I spent the three days with the family, talking about how life has been before the family migrated and how every one is doing in Mindanao now. I also lived with one of my uncles and his family, and we frequently bonded with my first cousins, Manong John and Jhey, who were there. Life is very laid back in the province, and these are the things that I missed most... the silence, the food, the home. I can never forget how they graciously made me feel a part of the family.

I thank God for this once in a lifetime opportunity. It feels so good that somewhere else in this world, you belong to a very wonderful family. I cannot even imagine until now that I trace my roots in this corner of the world, that  wonderful feeling of a place where a part of my humanity came from.

Clockwise: The Abra Tunnel; my Lolo Porcing and Lola Norma;
the old house where I stayed; and with Manong John and Uncle Chet.

On the day I was about to leave home, I hugged them with all my heart and with teary eyes. They told me to come back as often as I can, and I promised them that I will.

Library Afternoons and Personal Annotations

Between the rigors of UP in the new chapter of my life and the times when I felt the tendrils of loneliness embrace my soul being home away, I spent my afternoons in the quiet libraries of the university amidst the heaps of books that contain wonderful epistemologies and metaphysics. It has brought my perspectives to wider dimensions of life and it amazes my human existence every time I come to realize that such realities of ideas exist in this world. Indeed, in this seemingly small geographic enclave, there is still so much worlds to come, to see, and to conquer.

One of the tree lined streets in UP on holy noons going to the library.

Here are some of the most celebrated, at least to me, annotated bibliographies that I managed to write:

Rorty, A. O. (1998). Philosophers on education: New historical perspectives. London: Routledge

The implicit paradigm of Freud to learning was the way children conducted “sexual researchers.” Children should discover sex in their own ways based on their own needs at particular stage. He further illustrated a war between curiosity and education. Children want to know sex but adults tell them to learn education to distract them. Hence, education teaches the child to get disinterest in what really matters most to learn – sex.

Edgerton, S. H. (1996). Translating the curriculum. New York: Routledge

This selfish love is the one where the lover soaks as much experience into the self from the other who is loved though not in intrusive and obliterating way. It is different from selfless love which involves emotional investment that includes risk of rejection at the same time. But in order for love to grow, it should be selfish that it cannot risk to be rejected... it must require reciprocity and the lover must get in return of that investment. This deconstruction of hierarchy of love is found in the transference love – a love that is peculiar to pedagogical situation. This love here does not function as analogy for teaching and learning; it is real and important condition for pedagogy.

Orata, P. R. (19780. Self help barangay high schools. Quezon City: New Day Publsihers

If Mohammad cannot go to the mountain, then the mountain should go to Mohammad. If the children cannot go to the schools, then the schools should go to the children. We desire the same philosophy in our educational system today. We should stop looking at the other side of the fence, the educational systems of other countries; the grass is always greener in our own backyard, the unnoticed margins of our education history.

Ballenger, B. (2007). The curious researcher: A guide to writing research papers. New York: Pearson Custom Publishing

Tourists still buy bags of seeds for about a dollar and pose for pictures drenched in appealing flocks of pigeons. On the other side, officials of these cities continue to wage war they call “pest control” against these birds that decay cultural monuments and drop dung fungus. It is hard not to admire the traits of these pigeons, but it is also undesirable for these creatures to earn a negative label when it is only a normal part of their pigeon existence. Some wars we encounter today, either personal or social, are some wars that we cannot win because humans just know that the rewards of winning will not be worth the cost. Like the pigeon battle, our wars are futile endeavors that we cannot win because we also battle our own conflicts: our political responsibility to protect the great works of humanity and at the same time our moral obligation to share space with other lives in this planet.

Pratt, D. (1994). Curriculum planning. Orlando, Florida: Harcourt Brace, Inc.
Knowing has always focused on the objective study - dispassionate and detached. This objectivity fails to create harmony of relative realities, which in turn produces a crippling isolation of dream and reality, ambiguity and certainty, thought and action, poetry and science. This is the concern of the feminist movement in curriculum. The modes of thought and action experienced by women are process rather than product, social rather than isolated, facilitating rather than competitive, intuitive rather than rigid, supportive rather than difficult. What the feminist pedagogy offers is not simply a curriculum that responds more fairly to the needs of women, but a curriculum that reflects fully the nature of humanity.

Loveless

In the bright wake of a daybreak
There is no hope for the loveless
For what is meant to be a remake
When the heart knows its mistake?

In the whimsical stanza of a verse
There is no sense for the loveless
For what is meant to be a reverse
When the heart is under a curse?

In the meaningful words of a friend
There is no lesson for the loveless
For what is meant to be a mend
When the heart can just pretend?

In the sweet melody of a music
There is no rhythm for the loveless
For what is meant to be romantic
When the heart hums monotonic?

In the glorious sunset by the bay
Only there is peace for the loveless
For at the conclusion of passing day 
Stops torment of the heart so lonely.