After the tutorials, I suddenly thought about my plans for college. So I decided to go to USC Main and try to find out how I am going to go to college. That was a January 20, the day for the big procession for the Sto. Niño. I did not realize that that was going to happen until I got there. I, together with Eñego, got caught up in traffic and we got to walk some blocks to get to the university. At the end of the road was our destination but the current of the people won’t let us through. So we decided to go with the flow, in order for us to cross the road. God made us join the procession for Him.
I was so surprised when Nico shared to me that it was his first time to join the procession for the Sto. Niño. It was ironic because he was once a student of the Sto. Niño School when he was still in elementary. He shared to me his experiences when he was still in grade school while we were finding our way to reach the gates of USC.
After minutes of chit-chatting while walking, we finally set foot on the campus, we then realized, “Now what?” so both of us decided to ask the person in charge on what to do and he simply replied, “The office is closed.” Oh, what a nice answer.
I don’t know but, at that time, I didn’t feel bad that I didn’t get what I was there for. We just enjoyed the adventure of crossing the river of people. Anyway, we just decided to go against the flow, to go far away from where we were just to get home. We walked kilometers away from the crowd that we reached Carbon. We almost got lost. We even got to laugh at ourselves that we almost got lost. Fortunately, a jeepney was passing by and it was traveling for SM. Without any hesitations, we rode the jeepney, we are finally safe. Whew….What a productive afternoon it has been.
We got to ride a jeepney with someone who was very mysterious, a girl who kept on smiling at us. We found it weird because we clearly noticed her. Maybe she knows us. We just don’t know. Then, Nico noticed that the girl was making adjustments to her bracelet and he saw these words on her bracelet—“Youth for Christ” Now it made sense! At that time, I was wearing a YFC shirt and she recognized it. She wanted to make us notice her that she too is a member of this group. Well it was fun making and proving theories after all!
Monday, January 22, 2007
The Dungeon
The Dungeon
January 20, 2007
This was the fine Saturday that I was looking forward to--A perfect day for the MAke tutorials. I was so excited because this was yet my first time to get to meet kids whom I would help to let them learn Math. After those three absences, I still get to join the league, not of the extraordinary men of Math but of willing volunteers that would want to tutor these grade schoolers. My horrible predictions didn’t happen, thank God. I want to share to you my personal experiences and realizations when I taught those children.
Group ten—this was the group I, together with my partner get to teach. I didn’t care who were in that class, I just want to get things done and make them understand how Math works. So it was done. They told me they totally understood the Greek language I was speaking until I saw the results of their check-up exam. My whole world crumbled for a while. I did not know where I went wrong. Is it the way I speak? Am I too fast in the discussions? I don’t know. Now, I totally understand why most of us hate math and sometimes, we get to blame the teachers. It’s not their fault but it’s the subject itself. After hours of explaining to them slowly about ratio and proportion, they don’t even understand what value is…whew…that was exhausting.
So we tried to teach them one by one and it seemed that this technique worked efficiently than a group discussion. Now I understand what group ten meant.
After my first day as a mentor, every other volunteer is asking me how my first day was. I thought our class was the worst ever but, compared to other classes, ours was just one of the most behaved classes, although they were a bit slow compared to the other classes. You get to know different personalities of the students. One is naughty but knows it all, the other is behaved but doesn’t understand a thing, another naughty one and doesn’t know a thing too, and some are behaved because they’re determined to learn.
Anyway, that was a learning experience for me in preparation of the Know Your School Day. It is where we get to take our teachers their positions and give them a break. I want to be a teacher in Calculus too. I find it quite challenging. I hope I wouldn’t have trouble in teaching my classmates like those stubborn kids that I once taught.
January 20, 2007
This was the fine Saturday that I was looking forward to--A perfect day for the MAke tutorials. I was so excited because this was yet my first time to get to meet kids whom I would help to let them learn Math. After those three absences, I still get to join the league, not of the extraordinary men of Math but of willing volunteers that would want to tutor these grade schoolers. My horrible predictions didn’t happen, thank God. I want to share to you my personal experiences and realizations when I taught those children.
Group ten—this was the group I, together with my partner get to teach. I didn’t care who were in that class, I just want to get things done and make them understand how Math works. So it was done. They told me they totally understood the Greek language I was speaking until I saw the results of their check-up exam. My whole world crumbled for a while. I did not know where I went wrong. Is it the way I speak? Am I too fast in the discussions? I don’t know. Now, I totally understand why most of us hate math and sometimes, we get to blame the teachers. It’s not their fault but it’s the subject itself. After hours of explaining to them slowly about ratio and proportion, they don’t even understand what value is…whew…that was exhausting.
So we tried to teach them one by one and it seemed that this technique worked efficiently than a group discussion. Now I understand what group ten meant.
After my first day as a mentor, every other volunteer is asking me how my first day was. I thought our class was the worst ever but, compared to other classes, ours was just one of the most behaved classes, although they were a bit slow compared to the other classes. You get to know different personalities of the students. One is naughty but knows it all, the other is behaved but doesn’t understand a thing, another naughty one and doesn’t know a thing too, and some are behaved because they’re determined to learn.
Anyway, that was a learning experience for me in preparation of the Know Your School Day. It is where we get to take our teachers their positions and give them a break. I want to be a teacher in Calculus too. I find it quite challenging. I hope I wouldn’t have trouble in teaching my classmates like those stubborn kids that I once taught.
The Return of our Prodigal Son
The day after that exhausting World War (I’m glad to note that everything has just been forgiven and fine just within that day when it happened), was such a bright day. My mom was so excited that our eldest brother was coming home that day.
“Wake up! Wake up! We must prepare the spaghetti and grill the pork and get ready because he’s coming!” that was our wake up call that day.
You may be wondering why she was so excited of his coming back, considering that we used to see our brother everyday—used to. I know she missed him so much as much as kuya missed us. He even missed spending the Christmas and New Year celebration with us. Now you know why. So, where has he been all those times?
He is now working in a call center in Bacolod city. He has been there for over five months now. I think he’s doing well there. It wasn’t easy to settle to another civilization, even though he’s just on the same archipelago. Cebu and Bacolod are too different.
People from Bacolod thinks we, Cebuanos are of lowly class. I think they’ve got this superiority complex. They look down on us. Maybe because most of the Cebuanos who are staying there are those who are poor who just go to Bacolod and work there as taxi drivers, helpers and jobs of that sort. That’s why their perception of Cebuanos are the “baduy”. Well, they have a good sense of fashion but that’s all they got. They don’t have steamed rice which my brother missed so much. These are some of my brother’s personal testimonies. He learned much from them though.
My mother never approved that he would go to Bacolod but my brother’s so stubborn and has this fighting spirit to take his chances in going to Bacolod. While he was still settling there, he had trouble in finding money while he wasn’t receiving a penny yet from the company from where he is working. He got to ask my mom for money. That’s why my mom is so worried about him. He is the kind of person who is firm with whatever decisions he makes, though this character is good, this may still harm him. He never listened to my mom when my mom protested against his decision of staying in Bacolod. Now, do you get the idea of him being our prodigal son?
“Wake up! Wake up! We must prepare the spaghetti and grill the pork and get ready because he’s coming!” that was our wake up call that day.
You may be wondering why she was so excited of his coming back, considering that we used to see our brother everyday—used to. I know she missed him so much as much as kuya missed us. He even missed spending the Christmas and New Year celebration with us. Now you know why. So, where has he been all those times?
He is now working in a call center in Bacolod city. He has been there for over five months now. I think he’s doing well there. It wasn’t easy to settle to another civilization, even though he’s just on the same archipelago. Cebu and Bacolod are too different.
People from Bacolod thinks we, Cebuanos are of lowly class. I think they’ve got this superiority complex. They look down on us. Maybe because most of the Cebuanos who are staying there are those who are poor who just go to Bacolod and work there as taxi drivers, helpers and jobs of that sort. That’s why their perception of Cebuanos are the “baduy”. Well, they have a good sense of fashion but that’s all they got. They don’t have steamed rice which my brother missed so much. These are some of my brother’s personal testimonies. He learned much from them though.
My mother never approved that he would go to Bacolod but my brother’s so stubborn and has this fighting spirit to take his chances in going to Bacolod. While he was still settling there, he had trouble in finding money while he wasn’t receiving a penny yet from the company from where he is working. He got to ask my mom for money. That’s why my mom is so worried about him. He is the kind of person who is firm with whatever decisions he makes, though this character is good, this may still harm him. He never listened to my mom when my mom protested against his decision of staying in Bacolod. Now, do you get the idea of him being our prodigal son?
When my Legs Broke, He Gave me Crutches
This post is about the same event as of my previous blog post but I had a different realization in this second part. I concealed the details on how our World War went. So, I’m going to tell you now.
As I was summing it all up, my mom won’t stop scolding me too. It felt like I don’t want to listen to her anymore. I started to raise my voice over hers claiming that I did not do anything wrong. I knew I was right that time. It’s just that, I was too disappointed with her decision and all the negative predictions on what will happen to me after my third miss. But she thought I was just so rebellious as not to accept her decision. She attempted to hit me a couple of times but I never allowed her to touch me. We were building up to the climax of our argument. She just misunderstood me. That was all.
When my brother saw me helpless against my mother, he hugged me tightly, covered me totally as not to let anything or anyone hurt me. I was crying. I can’t speak a word anymore. I can feel him around me, protecting me against all odds. That was the time that I was so, so down. His blanket made me cry harder, not because I was in pain but the joy that made my heart leap that my God sent me an instrument, not just any typical angel, but a person whom I thought that would care for me the least.
He brought me to his room, comforted me, brushed my tangled hair with his hand while he was still keeping me tuck into his arms and started talking to me as bravely as he can.
“I know you’re right but it’s your mother you’ve been talking to. You can’t do anything about it. We must always obey her,” and he started to sniff.
I didn’t see his face, but his voice started to shake. He pinched my cheeks like I was a little girl. He smiled at me, like he was trying to hide from me that he wasn’t crying but his tears won’t stop flowing.
“You know what; this is part of our developing stage. Been there, done that. But, I’m not encouraging you to do it, okay?”
I was just nodding to every word he said because I believe he’s right. I started to smile and started to accept all these realities in life. He was so insensitive to my needs as my brother. This was why I never expected him to do all of these for me. Now, I can really feel that I'm not alone. Now, that someone understands what I've been through. And, I thank the One from above.
-jann
01/22/07
As I was summing it all up, my mom won’t stop scolding me too. It felt like I don’t want to listen to her anymore. I started to raise my voice over hers claiming that I did not do anything wrong. I knew I was right that time. It’s just that, I was too disappointed with her decision and all the negative predictions on what will happen to me after my third miss. But she thought I was just so rebellious as not to accept her decision. She attempted to hit me a couple of times but I never allowed her to touch me. We were building up to the climax of our argument. She just misunderstood me. That was all.
When my brother saw me helpless against my mother, he hugged me tightly, covered me totally as not to let anything or anyone hurt me. I was crying. I can’t speak a word anymore. I can feel him around me, protecting me against all odds. That was the time that I was so, so down. His blanket made me cry harder, not because I was in pain but the joy that made my heart leap that my God sent me an instrument, not just any typical angel, but a person whom I thought that would care for me the least.
He brought me to his room, comforted me, brushed my tangled hair with his hand while he was still keeping me tuck into his arms and started talking to me as bravely as he can.
“I know you’re right but it’s your mother you’ve been talking to. You can’t do anything about it. We must always obey her,” and he started to sniff.
I didn’t see his face, but his voice started to shake. He pinched my cheeks like I was a little girl. He smiled at me, like he was trying to hide from me that he wasn’t crying but his tears won’t stop flowing.
“You know what; this is part of our developing stage. Been there, done that. But, I’m not encouraging you to do it, okay?”
I was just nodding to every word he said because I believe he’s right. I started to smile and started to accept all these realities in life. He was so insensitive to my needs as my brother. This was why I never expected him to do all of these for me. Now, I can really feel that I'm not alone. Now, that someone understands what I've been through. And, I thank the One from above.
-jann
01/22/07
Sunday, January 21, 2007
ASeJANN SUMmIT all up
January 12 to 15, 2007-- After we've spent over a million pesos, built the Cebu International Convention Center and put up all those decorative lamps, the 12th ASEAN Summit has finally come. The postponement of this once-in-a-blue-moon event bothered a lot of things. The livelihoods of the big-time businessmen, as well as small entrepreneurs, the schedule of employees, the million-peso profit that hotels could have gained, the traffic, our own businesses, our schedules, our lives, ourselves--These were greatly affected. I was even caught up in a 3rd World War because of this Summit.
January 13, 2007--The second day of this special event that had been happening, a fine Saturday perfect for the MaKE(MAth Knowledge Enhancement) tutorials. I woke up at 5:30 in the morning, took a bath and I was ready to go when my mom suddenly said, "Where are you going? You can't reach the city because the roads are closed and public schools are off-limits because of the ASEAN delegates… blah…blah… blah…”
I don’t get it. Why was she babbling about those things when the school, the RAFI (Ramon Aboitiz Foundation, Inc.), and the Hipodromo Elementary School told us that there will be tutuorials? Of course, they won’t put us at risk of not getting home. Plus, she got to think of that stuff when she already allowed me to go the day before. But, as her daughter, I can’t do anything about it and I must obey her. And so I did.
I totally understood her reason why she made her last-minute change of decision. So, I just called up my co-volunteers and explained to them why I can’t go. That was my third absence out of three sessions only. I could get kicked out of the league because I always missed out the tutorials! Thinking about these things, I wept quietly. I was just so afraid that it might happen. When my mom saw me crying, she still kept on blaming-my-school lines when she was the one who enrolled me to this school which she hates so much? How ironic.
It was an ear sore. Maybe I reached my elastic limit and thus, the World War was ignited. I told her all the things about what I hate. But I, never hated her.
Perhaps you might think that I was such a bad girl all the way but no—it made me a better daughter to my mom and I get to understand her more, if it weren’t for my brother and sister.
-jann
01/22/07
January 13, 2007--The second day of this special event that had been happening, a fine Saturday perfect for the MaKE(MAth Knowledge Enhancement) tutorials. I woke up at 5:30 in the morning, took a bath and I was ready to go when my mom suddenly said, "Where are you going? You can't reach the city because the roads are closed and public schools are off-limits because of the ASEAN delegates… blah…blah… blah…”
I don’t get it. Why was she babbling about those things when the school, the RAFI (Ramon Aboitiz Foundation, Inc.), and the Hipodromo Elementary School told us that there will be tutuorials? Of course, they won’t put us at risk of not getting home. Plus, she got to think of that stuff when she already allowed me to go the day before. But, as her daughter, I can’t do anything about it and I must obey her. And so I did.
I totally understood her reason why she made her last-minute change of decision. So, I just called up my co-volunteers and explained to them why I can’t go. That was my third absence out of three sessions only. I could get kicked out of the league because I always missed out the tutorials! Thinking about these things, I wept quietly. I was just so afraid that it might happen. When my mom saw me crying, she still kept on blaming-my-school lines when she was the one who enrolled me to this school which she hates so much? How ironic.
It was an ear sore. Maybe I reached my elastic limit and thus, the World War was ignited. I told her all the things about what I hate. But I, never hated her.
Perhaps you might think that I was such a bad girl all the way but no—it made me a better daughter to my mom and I get to understand her more, if it weren’t for my brother and sister.
-jann
01/22/07
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