RAIGE-O-LOGY

"You're missing out on half of your life," someone told me when I declined their question, "Are you on Facebook?" I was aware of Facebook's existence, but I didn't realize that supposedly half of my life depended on it. Although I had an account, I had always been too occupied (or perhaps lazy) to pay much attention to it. I mean, even customizing wallpaper on Friendster felt like a daunting task for me. Facebook, on the other hand, seemed on a whole new level. It had a similar concept but appeared to be more interactive, with games and other features that I was still trying to comprehend. One uneventful afternoon, in a country still predominantly loyal to Friendster, I decided to explore my Facebook account. I uploaded a picture, wrote some random stuff on the info page, and began adding friends. While browsing my sister's page, I discovered that all of our relatives were her friends. Cousins whom I hadn't seen in nearly two decades (except thro...

Typhoon Ondoy delivered a devastating blow to our country, impacting the lives of thousands in unimaginable ways. And as if that wasn't enough, Typhoon Pepeng added insult to injury by exacerbating our wounds. Who should be held responsible for the widespread flooding and landslides? Is it the government, which often misuses our tax money instead of investing in effective drainage systems, housing for the underprivileged, and improved roads? Or should we collectively shoulder the blame as contributors to the infamous global warming? In my opinion, both parties are accountable. The damage has been done, and in times like these, the resilience of Filipinos truly shines through. Even our work was heavily impacted by the floods. Our warehouse, situated in Pasig, experienced cancellations and delays in deliveries. Shortages of goods became a common occurrence across all our stores. On one occasion, a regular customer visited our store and ordered a hotdog with rice meal. Unfortunately, ...

Confined in this cold and dark room Looked beyond lords of illusions Palms run through your crowning glory Painting a face they want to see Shiver for each falling degree Icy sabers stab his body Nobody around to witness Such pain for a man to possess No hope or help would ever come To this nobody who's alone No trace of regret on his face Nothing left at all but disgrace The ink on his hands has dried up When's it going to be enough? She looks back through the cold shiver The warmth starts to flow all over

It's been five months since I started working at a convenience store. The pay is decent, and having the "Store Manager" nameplate gives me some sort of credibility or street cred, if you will. I've also developed good relationships with my co-workers, some of whom have become my closest friends. Additionally, I've formed acquaintances with some of our regular customers. Everything and everyone is going great! However, there's one exception: my boss... To put it in perspective, it's like waking up early and studying hard the night before an exam, only to find out that classes are canceled due to a typhoon. I'm the diligent student, and my boss is that unexpected disruption. To continue with the analogy: If I were Harry Potter, my boss would be a dementor. If I were Frodo Baggins, my boss would be an Urakai. If I were Han Solo, my boss would be Jabba the Hutt. If I were GMA, my boss would be the rest of the Philippines.

Lately, it seems like I've been going out quite a bit. This time, I'm heading to my boss's store located at a gas station somewhere in the middle of Clark. They'll be providing me with transportation allowances for the three weeks of training in Pasig City. Hmm... transportation allowances. It seems that they expect me to commute back and forth from Pampanga to Manila every day for the duration of the training. Since I don't have a place to stay in Manila and I don't want to rent a room, that's pretty much going to be my routine. My boss hands me the allowances for the first week and wishes me good luck in my training. Despite her appearance resembling an antagonist in a Tagalog movie (I hope she never reads this), she's actually very kind. During the orientation, we were informed that we need to wear a specific uniform for the training, including black slacks, black socks, and black shoes (yes, they have to be black). We will temporarily wear white polo...

I settled down on a grimy bench, inhaling the chilly night air. The hour was approaching midnight, and the vendors across the street were beginning to shut down their stalls. A few meters away, tricycle drivers engaged in a spirited debate about the usual topics: politics, motorcycles, alcohol, and women. Amidst this scene, I noticed a cat lying in front of a closed souvenir shop, blood trickling from its nose, and its breath shallow. It appeared the cat had been defeated in a street fight by a larger opponent. Despite pedestrians bustling by, no one seemed to take notice of this wounded warrior in their midst. Even when someone nearly stepped on the poor creature, it remained invisible, detached from their reality. The cat existed, yet it seemed entirely absent. Compelled by empathy, I approached the cat to assess its condition. With a gentle prod of my foot, it lashed out in delirium, claws scraping against my skin. The feline still possessed a flicker of a fight. To calm its anger, ...

I arrived at the training center slightly earlier than expected. To pass the time before the orientation, I decided to grab breakfast from a nearby convenience store, ironically a competitor of the company I was training for. I couldn't help but wonder why they hadn't placed their own store near the training center. After a quick fifteen-minute meal, I pondered how to spend the remaining hour. Just then, the store employees began mopping the floor right where I was sitting, indicating that either my allotted time was up (if there even was one) or the person was simply being rude. I left the store and headed back to the training center, only to find the office still closed. With nothing else to do, I settled in to wait. After what felt like an eternity, someone finally arrived and opened the door. She questioned my presence there, to which I provided the obvious answer. Thankfully, she allowed me inside the office. I had to wait a bit longer before the speaker arrived and guided...

At 5am, I found myself on a tricycle on my way to the bus terminal. Recently, I gratefully accepted a management position at a well-known convenience store. Unlike the trendy call center agent jobs, this new role offered good pay without excessive stress. I was headed to Manila, the location of their main office, for a pre-training orientation that I had only learned about the night before. The expectation was for me to be there by 9am. Being a seasoned commuter in Manila wouldn't have posed a problem, but unfortunately, I wasn't one. So, I had to leave four hours earlier. While I had mastered the commuting pattern to Divisoria, this was an entirely different place I was heading to - Pasig City. Despite the straightforward instructions they had sent me via text, my somewhat decent sense of direction, and the multitude of Manila residents I could ask for directions, it still felt like an adventure for someone like me. When I arrived at the nearest Philippine Rabbit bus terminal ...

Once again, Chevalier School celebrated its foundation days, known as "Pagdiriwang". Thanks to family influence and our annual participation, we secured a booth within the school grounds. Our pork barbecue and "waffle dog" have made quite an impression at this yearly event. Not to boast, but our products have become a compelling reason for some people to attend. My mom and my grand aunt, an elementary teacher at CS, have been selling at the Pagdiriwang event for countless years. I joined their team about a decade ago, and I've even mastered the art of cooking the "waffle dog," which became my responsibility alongside being the official driver. As the event drew near, the annual debate between my mom and me ensued. She insists on calling our product a "waffle dog," which is technically incorrect. A waffle dog is a hotdog (or any edible item, really) cooked with pancake batter inside a waffle-dog iron, resulting in a distinctive criss-cross pat...

As another year has come to a close, it's difficult to recount all that transpired in the past twelve months. With the dawn of the New Year, a plethora of fresh opportunities await. Despite the allure of new beginnings, we still hold fast to old traditions. Superstitions run high during this time of year. From donning polka-dotted attire to gathering twelve round fruits, these rituals are believed to bring "luck" for the coming year. It's a mystery to me, but the belief is ingrained in almost everyone. Markets are flooded with last-minute shoppers, eager to amass the twelve-round fruits, even if the prices are ludicrously inflated. I've observed the fruits my mom purchased. Is it just me, or do people consider pineapples, bananas, papayas, and mangos as round? What would a New Year celebration be without fireworks? Here's an observation that often goes unnoticed by many (cue the inner geek voice that resides in my head). Fireworks and firecrackers are two dist...