Paalam, FC

The sky was overcast when I got to UP the day after the Faculty Center was razed by a fire. Seeing the building that housed the brightest minds of the nation, the repository of innumerable books, artworks, researches, documents and records burned down to its concrete shell was enough to bring one to tears. It was an indescribable loss.

When I read the news of the tragedy, I refused to believe it even if the photos seemed real enough. In futile resistance trying to convince myself that it was but a terrible April Fool's joke.

Because how can FC, the first building I stepped into as a UP student, the very same hall that witnessed the most fruitful years of my education, just...turn to ashes?

And even when I saw it in person on Saturday, the shock and grief still refuse to set in. Maybe all these years, even with recognizing how fragile FC could be, I believed that the very same building will remain a fixture in the Acad Oval. That years and years hence, generations after generations, FC will forever house CAL and CSSP departments: the professors continuously building up their piles of books and references to use in class, working and reflecting on their life's work, sharing ideas that shape the nation, the students submitting (and performing!) the products of their toil in the very same building, making countless memories attached to the very same space.

Seeing it in shambles, the roof collapsed, charred debris all over, windows broken–it was too much of a heartbreak. It took me back to the time when I alighted the jeepney for my first day of class in UP. Bulwagang Rizal, the sign says. Like my section in high school, IV-Rizal. And instantly, I felt connected, subduing my misgivings about journeying in college alone, without my friends. From then on, I would always be within FC's proximity during my stay in UP. Meeting up with friends, consulting with my professors and the EL department, enlisting in classes, visiting the exhibits, occasionally transacting records business at CAL101, having lunch at Katag... I can only imagine the loss and grief of the professors who had made FC their home in UP.

Tributes to FC have been made by UP's sons and daughters who thrived within and beyond the academe, who had longer and stronger connection to its hallowed halls and rooms, who stayed truer to everything the College taught them. 

Me, I'm just one of the many students who had the opportunity to call FC my first home, back then a freshman/sophomore who tried to find her way in the university, who sought the comfort of FC's dimmed hallways to pass the time, who read and marveled at the posters and signs telling a room's significance or a luminary's contribution to literature and the arts. It was, without fail, the place where I found refuge when the din and the loneliness I feel in CMC became too much to bear.

From the ashes, the phoenix will rise, so the prose goes. And what a phoenix FC had been, lighting the way of the nation's arts, history, humanities. But however FC is reborn, its former incarnation will remain ingrained in UP's identity.

It was a loss--of art, history, of collective memories--quite unlike any other. It's a farewell immeasurably saddening and devastating.

Paalam, FC. Maraming salamat. Hanggang sa muli. 

Triumph and Loss

On Monday, my sister Dyan finally reached the end of her journey as an undergrad from the College of Engineering. After five years of grueling toil, exams, laboratory experiments, plant visits, papers, researches, not to mention quite a hectic social life at her org, she finally earned her degree in BS Metallurgical Engineering.

We couldn't be any prouder. :) As I have said, two down. Two to go. Haha. :3

But while we were all witnessing the ceremony conferring the degrees to the graduates of the University's biggest college, I received one of the most saddening news:

With great sadness, we inform everyone that Prof. Dennis M. Sabangan, a senior lecturer at the Department of Journalism,...
Posted by UP CMC Student Council on Monday, June 29, 2015

While on the ride home, I couldn't stop myself from sobbing as I remembered Sir Dennis and my probably most memorable class in UP ever, under the most amazing, one of the most talented and kindest teacher I ever had the opportunity to learn from. He was not only a mentor, he was an inspiration.

I've always said that 2011 was one of the best years in my life recently. It was a time when I had so many things to do, when I was so filled with zeal to accomplish things. I was in my third to fourth year in CMC, and was fully engaged in the course I was taking. I was learning so much--from the readings, from the classes, from the field trips, from the brilliant professors. I was making friends inside and outside the college. I made friends in my part-time job. There were (a lot of!) times when I get home in the wee hours of the night. I learned to drink! Haha. I was sleep-deprived, I was HELLA awkward, but I was so busy, so driven, so hopeful.

But probably, one of the best highlights of that year was my taking J123, Photojournalism. Every Saturday, I looked forward to attending the class, because I know that despite the okray my photos were going to get, I'm going to listen to Sir Dennis's tips and adventures. Those three hours were filled with amazing tales and laughter. Sir Dennis always wore his infectious smile, he was always ready to crack a joke.

In a college where the most vivacious students thrive, I've always felt like an outcast. But Sir saw through that. Or maybe it was in his teaching style to make even the shyest student voice out comments and questions. During our field trip, he was unabashed in acting as if he's one of us. And he was! But I did feel his guidance, even his fatherly protectiveness, whenever the situation called for it. It was such a privilege to learn from him.

He survived kidnapping, war zones, typhoons, earthquakes, mobs, rallies, demolitions. His portfolio is downright topnotch. I remember during Yolanda, I kept seeing his name in the credits of the photos of the typhoon's devastation. I kept thinking, "Sir, be safe please." Sabi nya lagi sa klase may agimat sya, kaya hindi pa sya namamatay. I can't believe that someone larger than life as he was would succumb to death so soon, so suddenly. Sabi nga sa isang post, it's ironic how someone with such a big heart died of a heart disease.

Looking back, I remember how enthralled I was by his guts, by his talent, by his humility. He kept telling everyone to just enjoy and have fun. And now, as my feed is filled by posts remembering him, I feel humbled to have known him even for just a short while, even as I regret not reaching out after our class ended. Because I let my shyness get the better of me--the thought that he might like to spend time with the other "in" students. Instead, I should've realized that he's not like that, and never was. He never discriminated. He found time for everyone. He checked up on people even as he was experiencing hardships of his own as well.

It's been the three days since he died, and I still can't stop my tears from falling as I type this. At the back of my mind, I keep thinking, he's just out there, in some far-off province, going on his adventures, meeting up with his friends, clicking away on his cameras. I still couldn't fully accept that he's gone, ever after seeing his remains yesterday.

But maybe up there in heaven, he's laughing at all the crying people are doing because of him. I'm sure he wants everyone whose life he's touched don the bright afro wigs and over-sized shades, pull off a pout, and party on through life like he did.

All this is making me remember how he motivated me during that wonderful semester. I should strive to be better at my craft, and give back as much as I can. I realized that the time he spent teaching at CMC was not something he had to do, but he did it anyway.  It was his way of giving back. And give back to the University he did. He touched the lives of each and every student he encountered, planted the seeds of excellence in all of them, all of us.

As one of his friend posted, it's highly unlikely that he's going to rest in peace up there in heaven. He's probably causing a ruckus right now and making the angels laugh with him.

Photo by Melo

Wherever you are, Sir, thank you so much. Your legacy will live on.

---

Two weeks ago, CASAA was razed by a fire. Even if I hadn't stayed in CAL for the rest of my college days, it was still in CASAA that I had some of my first lunches (alone) in UP. Next to the Sunken Garden, it was the place where the loner freshie me can stay for hours as I wait out some of my three-hour long breaks, or get my readings photocopied, or make a rush to the restroom before my 7AM class at AS, or just take a bite of sustenance in the middle of the combined electrifying energy and hubbub of the students.

Just this morning, I got the news that the UP Alumni Center, including the bowling alley burned down as well. I had my only uno in PE in duckpin bowling there! Oh, UP, what's going on? Please don't change so drastically, please don't lose your character. Please don't change from being the haven that you are, the one place I would always like to come home to.

---

Ah, UP. How you make my heart swell. But oh, how you break it, too!

UPCAT Musings

I accompanied my sister last Sunday to UP for her college admission test. Needless to say, she was pressured, both from the expectation of the family and probably her own self. It felt like so much is at stake on the result of that exam and no preparation will be enough. 

I seriously can't remember much of my own UPCAT experience. I do remember that I went with a handful of my high school classmates to the campus, but we separated ways since we had different testing venues. It wasn't dawn yet when we arrived. I have no recollection of the questions either, not one, at all. I just remember eating only one of the three sandwiches I brought, and subsisting on candy and anxiety. I do know that I wanted to pass, that I wanted to study in UP.

The Gate(s) of Mordor

Would I be as anxious if I were in the same situation? Probably.

UP is not as fancy as the universities in my fiction fantasies – no scenic coastlines, no cathedral ruins, no castle chambers as classrooms, no Scottish pubs, no fancy and elaborate traditions and customs. But it's the university that is as familiar as the back of my hands. It is home.

My social ineptitude has probably hindered me from maximizing my UP experience, but I know that I am content at observing the vibrant student life take place. I have learned that I know so little, that I have a long way to go. UP life taught me patience, taught me how to look at the bigger picture. It robbed me of sleep, of my sense of self-worth when everything became so overwhelming. It taught me to fend for myself, to be able to make things work no matter how dire the situation. 

I have this image of UP reluctantly taking me in its arms. Touch move. For both ends.

I still doubt if I truly deserved being under Oble's wing, but the experience has given me so much pride, and yet has been thoroughly humbling. It's the institution that I'm still trying to fully comprehend but respect beyond words. 

It has its way of getting under one's skin, almost certainly permanently taking hold. 

Sometimes, I'd ask the empty air,

"Oble, are you proud of me now? Or will I make you proud at all, ever?"

Happy birthday, UP.

Finding home where UP is

As I go to work every morning for the past two weeks, I suddenly realized how lucky I am to have landed a job where the workplace reminds me so much of the place I have always loved since I set foot in it almost six years ago--UP Diliman. My current workplace is situated inside a camp so everywhere I turn, I see trees in all their perfect green canopy glory. The camp is a blessed relief in the middle of the city, much like what UP was to me during college. The joggers, the scant vehicles, the breeze, the sunlight through the leaves--walking along the lanes feels so much like being back in UP.

I don't know if it's a good thing, but I guess I'm always looking for something "UP" in every new environment I get into to determine whether I will last or not. It's not so much as the highly urban landscape of my previous job that made me quit as my desire to experience something more than what I had been doing there. Tall buildings, the people's upscale lifestyle, and limited (and overtly structured) greenery just didn't cut it up for me. Everyday, I felt drained.

My first part-time job, on the other hand, where I lasted more than two years, was very much UP because everybody in the team, was, well, from UP. We were on the same wavelength more or less, and I didn't feel as if I was an outsider--I get the jokes, my opinions felt worth sharing, and being burgis was a no-no. Haha. When it's the cheerdance competition, we watch together with bated breath rooting for the same kickass team. Often times, after our shift at midnight, we'd go straight ahead to Maginhawa St. to eat and it's still UP.

No, I probably haven't made the most out of my years of undergraduate experience, but UP still made its mark in my psyche and I always end up on the look out for it everywhere I go.

---

Sa'yo,  UP Manila freshie, paumanhin. Paumanhin at hindi naging sapat ang aming tinig. Paumanhin at hindi mo naranasan ang maraming bagay bilang isang Iska. Paumanhin.

Wagas

One morning, I saw my photojournalism professor on TV. The program's segment was about the trade of sports photography and a couple of the photographers who made their mark in the field. Sir Dennis, my prof, gave an advice to the aspiring photographers:

"Basta gawin niyo ng mahusay. Kungbaga kay Goku, ilabas niyo na ang isandaang porsyento niyo."

I muttered to myself then, "Sir! Nakalimutan mo na ba? Si Taguro yung naglalabas ng isandaang porsyento. Energy ball ang ginamit ni Goku."

That brief feature on Sir reminded me of one of the best courses I took in college. The weekly meetings were something I had always looked forward to because Sir Dennis is a very engaging teacher and downright hilarious in his lectures inside and outside the classroom. Every week, we were given a subject to take photos of, and we would present them in class for Sir's evaluations and tips. And every week, the subject got more and more difficult to accomplish. Not only did we learn how to operate our cameras and know the correct settings, we also learned to push our limits and be determined to accomplish the task given to us--be it from convincing models to pose nude to pushing our way in a frenzied crowd for some shots of the action happening. We were made to see the potential of photography as a vital instrument for social development, and the camera as both an artistic and scientific tool for information and expression.

I learned to appreciate the craft and understand the ethics and principles in the discipline, largely due to the guidance and funny anecdotes from Sir. I think it's one of the perks of studying in the State U--not only do we have the opportunity to be under the tutelage of the nation's best in the academe, we also get taught and trained by the top-calibre practitioners themselves. These anecdotes were mostly from his years and years worth of experience as a seasoned and renowned photojournalist. These stories of shutterbugging across the globe he willingly shared and I could see that each one of us in the class hung on to every word Sir said. I could say his method of teaching is not one that I encountered often; his rapport with us failed to fall into the teacher-student category. However, extremely close to his students he might be, I could still feel overflowing respect for him, and I know my classmates do, too, for his sheer excellence and laudable desire to impart knowledge.

My photojournalism class was exciting and taxing, but also truly inspiring. I have experienced and tried so many new things in my quest to be even just a beginner in photography. Sir, despite his seemingly carefree and comic disposition, taught me that anything can be possible if you have the guts to push forward and set aside any form of hesitation. He kept reminding us to just love the craft, and while taking things seriously could well put you ahead of the game, we still have to make sure to enjoy what we're doing. Otherwise, photography (or anything else we cared to to do) will just end up being a troublesome burden we would have to carry. "Third World na nga tayo, magpapakalungkot pa kayo? Enjoy niyo lang," I remember him telling us more than once.

I know I have a lot to learn still, and I am glad to have a head start courtesy of the awesomeness of Sir Dennis, amid his jokes, taunts and wagas na kapilyuhan.

The Budoy Boot Camp :))

A few days I ago I had finally sent my letter of resignation, the effectivity of which will be a month after the official receipt of the letter. I convinced myself that it's time to leave my comfort zone, professionally speaking, and set out to search for a career that I have devoted my years of college education for.

Last night, though, I got a taste of what I am bound to let go and move on from.  Because of some technical glitches, the office had to suspend the operations. We instead made use of the time for teambuilding activities and meetings to bring up concerns and come up with solutions collectively.

After these, we had a rather rowdy dinner together at a diner near the office. When I ordered my third serving of rice, they were sort of scandalized with the fact that I eat so much. I've been telling them again and again that I can eat quite a lot often and when I want to, and they never believed me. Back at the office, everybody got rowdier still as we all tried to go artistic with the craft materials bought to decorate the team's bulletin board. Probably because it's so rare to have so many of us together in the office, we made fun of the most trivial things. Someone was even sabog more than normal, and that's saying something.

After we left the office, we were in for another night-out filled to the brim with random anecdotes (including "Alamat ng KnL and other stories") and even crude jokes. If I hadn't been with these people for the past two years, I would've been terribly culture-shocked, but as it goes, such cacophony and jests only made the night more interesting for me. I love observing how different people can be when they've had their dose of alcohol, or when they're given free rein of the karaoke's mircophone.

I got home with my head filled with the events of the night, grateful for the chance to be in a company of such diverse and funny (and some awesome) people. Absurdly, I began to ask myself and wonder why I had to leave anyway.

Ano pa ba kung hindi 'Salamat'

Kaiba sa karamihan ng mga kakilala ko, wala ako masyadong naramdamang excitement sa pagtatapos. Siguro nakahinga lang ako ng maluwag at sa wakas ay nakagraduate din ako--natapos ang mga requirements, ganyan. Pero hindi ko maparisan yung kaligayahan at pagdiriwang na ginawa ng karamihan sa mga kakilala kong kasabay kong nagtapos. Hinayaan ko na lang ang mga kamag-anak ko ang mag-celebrate para sa'ken.

Sabi ni Lourd de Veyra sa talumpati niya sa kolehiyo namin, noong araw daw ng graduation niya sa college, "...kaming tatlo ng best friends ko ay naglalasing, nagdadalamhati na masisira na ang buhay namin." Ang sinabi niyang ito lang ata ang makakapaglarawan ng nararamdaman ko. Gayunpaman, marapat pa rin sigurong pasalamatan ko ang unibersidad na tumanggap sa'kin sa loob ng ilang taong pamamalagi ko sa kolehiyo.

Para sa pagkakataong matuto mula sa mga institusyong nagsisilbing haligi ng akademyang pambansa. Para sa pagpapaalala na maraming bagay sa mundo ang naghihintay na aralin at paghusayan, kailangan lang ng disiplina at maigting na pagnanais na matuto. Para sa Sunken Garden na walang kaparis, bilang tambayan at kanlungan. Para sa sa pagpapatibay ng pagkahilig ko sa panitikan--para sa mga murang libro! Para sa santambak na readings, sa paglilinang ng diskarte para maisagawa ang mga kailangang tapusin.  Para sa pagpapaalala na anuman ang matutunan at gagawin ay dapat isinasaalang-alang ang nakararami--ang taumbayang nagbabayad ng buwis para sa edukasyon namin--at ang importansya ng honor at excellence. Para sa pagiging pangalawang tahanan, sampu ng mga mayayabong na puno at luntiang kapaligiran sa lahat ng dako. Para sa kulturang katangi-tangi, mula sa salita at kaugalian hanggang sa pagiging bukas ng kamalayan. Para sa pinakasarap na tapsilog na natikman ko. Para sa pagkakataong makapag-ambag sa napiling larangan. Para sa karapatang makapagsuot ng sablay, kasabay ang mga responsibilidad na kaakibat nito. Para sa pagpapaintindi na hindi imposible ang "magpalipad ng saranggola sa ulan," ayon nga sa awit ni G. Gary Granada.

At para sa iba pang 'di mabilang na dahilan. Maraming salamat, UP.

Nostalgia Overload

16 December 2012

University of the Philippines Diliman's Annual Lantern Parade

Padayon, UP!

A few of the participating lanterns, and floats from the UP College of Fine Arts, the delegation of which evoked characters and other pop culture icons from this generation's childhood and years begone.

My first Oblation Run

16 December 2012. If not for the coverage assignment for my photojournalism class, I wouldn't have exerted effort to attend the Oblation Run.

An annual tradition of some of the UP chapters of the Alpha Phi Omega Fraternity, the Oblation Run is a form of protest by the members on contemporary issues in the country. Taking from the Oblation, the University's symbol of a naked man with arms outstretched and selflessly giving himself up for the nation, the members run through the halls of Palma Hall and give out roses to female spectators while displaying their banners and placards. This year, the members called on the public to help preserve the rivers of the country.

It was an incredible experience for me--the adrenaline rush I had as I pushed my way through a hysteric crowd (for reasons I could not fathom, really), running to and fro to get to the position where the action was, and endlessly clicking the shutter button in the hopes of catching a good shot.

It was the first time I ever felt like I was a photographer covering an event.

ASFD:LSAHLKHJDFS;!!1! just got real

At the screening of the Cinemalaya entry "Ang Babae sa Septic Tank" today at the UP Film Institute, my friends and I had the amazing fortune of being stuck inside the rest room with no less than the star of the movie herself, Ms. Eugene Domingo. And it wasn't just once but twice.

The first one was before the movie began, and another after the movie and the "press conference" ended. She was even with her friend, John "Sweet" Lapus, during the latter, because they were being harangued at the exit. It was quite an experience--at one moment you were chatting with your friends inside the toilet, and then the next your eyes bulging because of being in such a close proximity with one of your favorite artists. And just after seeing her movie and witnessing her intelligence during the question and answer at that!

My friends were I were actually spazzing but we couldn't flail because we don't want to embarass ourselves in front of Ms. Eugene. And none of us even had a camera! We were so unnerved that we didn't know what to do. I think Ms. Eugene and Sweet thought we wanted to go out already but couldn't because of the cameras and the people just outside the door. In truth, though, we wanted to stay and do something--take a picture with them or have their autographs. And so, probably sensing our unease, Sweet said not to worry, we could go outside already. When we opened the door, there was indeed a throng of people and cameras with their lights on. They were probably disappointed to see a group of girls instead of the star of the movie they had just seen. With our heads bowed and still not believing our luck, we hurried outside the theater.

The movie, by the way, was definitely amazing on so many levels. It was so wrought with meanings and it definitely deserves all the awards!

A great movie and encounters with Ms. Eugene (at the restroom), both shared with friends--today is definitely an awesome day.

John-how-are-ye?

These past few weeks have been a blur of activities for me. So much needs to be done, and I start the first month of the new year by not sleeping for the most part.

We had to join a Public Service Advertisement contest for our advertising class. For someone who had not any comprehensive knowledge, even experience, on using Photoshop, I was in a serious pinch. I never really expected to win, just gave it my best. It was a good experience altogether--from seeking the advice of our very credible professor, to renewing concepts, to actually creating the ads (images, taglines, the works), to printing them and submitting them just an hour before the deadline (which happened to be my beloved Sho's birthday--naturally I forgot about the submission and remembered Sho, haha). It was all worthwhile, though. I am very excited as well for the convention on February 15 at San Juan de Letran where we will hear experts on the advertising talk about the craft, and of course know who will win the contest. I really do not expect to win, just having participated is enough.

I also started watching the U.S. comedy show The Big Bang Theory. An officemate shared about 50 episodes of this series (and tons of other movies) in our work network, and it didn't take long before almost all of us were laughing hard during our breaks.

January is also the anniversary month of our organization. This is what we all have been planning and preparing for since the academic year started. Naturally, until the last minute we were still busy completing the preparations, contacting speakers, assigning tasks, setting up the venue, etc. But seeing the number of attendees on a couple of the major events we have lined up was gratifying. My favorite was the symposium about the "scenes behind the scenes" in the media industry. We got to listen to media practitioners talk about their experiences that are usually unheard of by the public. I got really motivated, partly because the speakers who came were very inspiring and realistic in their advice, and partly because I have found out that someone like me who always prefers to stay behind the camera can have a remarkable career in this field. Great month for our org! We may be lacking in financial resources and there were many a hassle, but we pulled our 12th anniversary off with informative and fun events.

Of course, there are the piles of school works such as quizzes, midterm exams, papers, researches (for the "baby thesis"), and reports that take nights and nights to prepare. I also had to create a "niche" website for my Design, Layout, and Publishing class. I decided to make it about Asian films, particularly reviews about films from Japan, China and Korea. Not only will the scope be limited but I will also have a valid excuse to watch and re-watch amazing films. Horray!

Crazy month, honestly. To cap it off, my Captain Fail!Boat Sho is now 29 and The Hyde just turned 42!

Let's get in on, 2011!

Under the lush canopy, life is better

Habang naglalakad ako sa Acad Oval papunta sa Main Lib kanina, may nadaanan akong isang lolo na nakaupo sa bench. Nakatalikod siya sa’ken, at nakayuko na tila binabasa ang isa sa dalawang maliit na libro o kwadernong dala niya. Bakas sa damit niya ang pawis at nakasandal sa kinauupuan niya ang kanyang mountain bike. Hindi ko rin maintindihan, pero para sa akin, ang sandaling iyon ang isa sa mga pinakamagandang eksena na nasaksihan ko. At napasaya ako nito ng araw na iyon sa hindi ko malamang kadahilanan.

Siguro malambot lang talaga ang puso ko para sa mga nakatatanda. O kaya naman dahil nakakatuwang aktibo at malakas pa siya para magbisikleta. O marahil dahil nagagawa niya pa ring magkaroon ng tahimik na sandali para sa kanyang sarili, sa gitna ng mga puno sa Oval.

Hindi ko mapigilang isipin, ano kayang nakasulat sa kwaderno o librong binabasa niya?