Saturday, November 30, 2013

My Interview to a Teenage Mom

A course requirement ordered by Mr. Felix Cabahug for our Communication, Society and Development Class is an audio-visual presentation (AVP). Our group is tasked to feature the consequences of becoming a family under a quick-changing society and of how to make communication healthy for a family.
 For this task, I decided to interview a teenager mother so as to clearly show how hard for a youth like us to build a family under the constraint of the society.
On my search for an informant, I found a new neighbor of ours in Valenzuela. She is Nenette Padoc, 17, the second wife of Robin Butardo, a childhood friend of mine.
Nenette gave birth recently and now her baby is still an infant. In an early age, it has been a challenge for her to rear a child.
When I asked her to compare her life then that she has no burden and now that she has a husband and a child, she told me that it is entirely different. She missed her friends and princess-type of living she has before.
She had passed through a lot of struggles, one of which is on the 9 months of carrying the baby and the criticisms she has gained from the society. But all of this was faded away every time she sees her baby that serves as her strength and the reason for keeping on track.
She also shared to me her plans for her child. She plans to work to help her spouse. She promises that she would not let her child to have the destiny she has been.
She confessed that she has a lot of regrets. But however the words she hears from others, she kept herself strong for her child.
This lady is just an equal age of mine. But I confessed that she had her thoughts more deeply than I, her thinking is inappropriate for her age.
I hope for the betterment of her and her child. And as she goes on with the life being a mother and wife, may her life prosper and may God let her see the things He prepares for her.             


I’m not into sports, more not into an Olympics. But because of this Journ Festival, I had my first time competing not with my oratorical, verbal, writing and dancing skills but with the athletic side of me. Sound surprising for a person like me but then, I came out of my box.
The game I joined ids the obstacle course challenge. Maybe, it’s one of the hardest games not just because of the hurdles and obstacles itself but because it’s all about testing my physical fitness and I know, I’m not that physically fit. I have a weak cardio-respiratory- endurance.
But they put me there because I have the flexibility of a dancer, the balance, the agility and the confidence. I think I accept the challenge because it sounds exciting.
On that day, the sections are cheering wildly to boost themselves and we, BAJ 1-1D, the Blue Jabbers, never fail to have the wildest cheers.
The obstacle course is that simple as you would just take a look at it scattered in the idle of the oval.
But when it’s our turn, Aah! It’s damn!
First, we ran toward the grazed portion of the grass-covered ground, we rolled over our bodies laterally on the sand. It made me topsy-turvy.
Then we proceeded on the two rows of hollow blocks as hurdles simultaneous with a long, narrow bench where we are going to pass through. With the right concentration, however how tipsy you are, you will never fail there.
After that, is the cliché on every obstacle course, which are the old tires. No more need for further elaboration.
Next are the imaginary barb wires where we crawl under it like crazy because it’s pure imaginary.
After surviving the imaginary obstacle is the “kadang-kadang” walk where we walk by 2’s and by 3’s with some pile of wood with some strings on it.
Then we jumped up the Chinese Garter challenge. I know I made my exhibition perfectly but my twin, Enki, made hers trendy.
The hardest part for me is the balloon popping by the use of a barbeque stick stuck on the mouth. It hurt my mouth very much.
My favorite is the spider’s web. I executed triumphantly my flexibility on passing between small holes of the strings.
To end the challenge is a five turn set of hula-hoop. It’s hard for me.

Cyd, Kai, Kevin, Nep and me did it great with a full time of 10 minutes and 56 seconds. Quite long to beat the champion but most importantly, the experience is great and the body really aches.

Cheers to the Blue Jabbers

In lieu with the Journalism Festival, is the Sport Fest organized by the Journ Guild.
Of course, our section had not failed to have our own set of participant to the Basketball tourney, and I believe they are the department’s dream team.
Alicia and I, made our banner and flag as well. All are set to cheer out loud for our representatives on the battle. Everyone is desirous to cheer our bet. And they cheer it out soulfully.
The first match ids between our sections versus BJ 3-1Dit’s a stiff fight. But yet, we won. Our players showed what they’ve got in the elimination round.
Peter is a real sharp shooter and three-pointer. Patrick is agile and quick. He has the most number of points that made his competitors have a red eye on him. Charles, the tall man. His outstanding physique made it easy for the team to crush their contenders. Arnold, his damn great. Jer, Maouie and Peps, equally showed quick-wittedness. Miko, his mustache always takes it all. The man in tanglaw singlet, he dribbles and shoots fine.
Our dream team made it to the finals but then our contenders find ways to defeat us as they imported some of the greatest players from other team. It was like BAJ 1-1D versus the world.
The first two quarters is real intense, the third is hard core but the fourth is quite disappointing. The team had some continuous mistakes committed and their rival had joyfully used it as their strength. The team loses but not that much.
For us, Blue Jabbers are still great. We still believe. Knowing that we are only first year students and are inexperienced, we had already showed them of how competitive we are and of how coordinated we move.

Cheers to the Blue Jabbers!

We Top the Quiz Bee

Last Tuesday, I was pushed to join the General Information Quiz Bee in celebration of the Journalism Festival. Without due preparation, unlike of what I have done on my previous matches, I decided to team up with Jeremiah and Meynard, my classmates, for the contests.
I never take this deal as a serious matter. I set my mind to just6 to do my best and let him do the rest. I kept cool on my chair as the game had started.
The easy round is not that easy. Questions come from randomly-arranged topics from a wide-range of information. But amazingly, we passed it.
Moving on to the Average round is such an achievement. Jeremiah and I agreed that having our foot on the difficult round is so enough. That’s why e strives hard to jump up to the next round.
And we made it. The elimination is ridiculous. Each round trims the participants fast. The pressure is rising, the tension is tightening.
Every question is like an obstacle course that after we’d passed the last station, we breathe and sigh. On the end, the tension was released after knowing our sure win.
We automatically had been proclaimed as the winner with 9 points for the difficult round, leaving other contenders for their clinching question.

Hurrah! We won and we’re happy.

Longings of Seventeen

I just realized, am now seventeen. I don’t know what is in the number itself, but it made me think, what can this number could bring to me being I am seventeen.
Being seventeen, I’m nearly halfway of my life being a teenager. The freakiest and wildest stage I think (I just don’t know if I will be wilder at my 20’s, 30’s or even older). This is the stage where life less serious. It will always be right to be easy-go-lucky. This is the phase where parent’s patience overflows. And maybe, most of the frankest circumstances that I may encounter in this life are nearly to end being seventeen.
Next year, I’m turning eighteen (legal age) and then 19 and 20. I am near of getting rid of my childish side, going to a more serious chapter of my days. The thinking of how fast years pass terrified me, of how quick I will get older. But should I accept? I’m already seventeen. And before transforming to a serious and workaholic mode, I need to enjoy life and experience this bucket list before teenage dies.
I’m already seventeen and I want a slumber party and an overnight with my college peers. I know my mother, as a conservative folk of the country, is purely resistant of these teenage dreams. But she already permitted me on a camping and to a dormitory, why not for a sleep-over?
I’m already seventeen and I want an adventure. An out-of-town escapade with my friends, I think.
I’m already seventeen and I want the hottest clothes in town. Everyone would have probably liked to wear the shirts worn by their fashion icon.
I’m already seventeen and I want to attend concert and night gigs of my favorite bands live.
I’m already seventeen and I want the coolest gadgets present in the market. Phablet as my priority and primary goal.
I’m already seventeen and I want a much more serious relationship. Inspiration and not for display.
I’m already seventeen and I want a firm circle of friends. Just enough to be called as “tropa”.
I’m already seventeen and I want to have independence over matters such as my schooling.

I’m already seventeen and all I want is to do what I want because I’m afraid that in my next years, I may not want these stuffs as much. Some wishes may sound immature but it was a seventeen speaking.

Knowing their Impressions

Last Tuesday, in our class of Communication, Society and Development with Mr. Felix Cabahug, we had done an activity that may sound as a cliché or “korni”, but made me realize that it has it certain significance. Now I know of how they look at me as they write n my paper the impression that they had see.
We had an activity where we go on circle and have our paper that will run through the perimeter where they will write their first and last impression.
The first impression can be fine because it is what they see in their first time seeing me but have I maintained this to their last impression? Are their impressions negative or positive? Have they found me as a good person?
One found me snobbish before, a sort of antipatiko character, mataray, suplado but in their last impression, they replaced it with good, kalog, cool. I know myself well, I’m not relay snob but I do look like that but not really in person.
Another found me quirky in the very first place but then see me nice.
Two of the respondents wrote that I do look like a gay but in the latter part proved I’m not. True, for most. I may move that soft but I’m hard. Promise, it’s hard.
Another two in my very first day had seen me that grade conscious already. Not that early! But in the left side, the one put adjectives like diligent and friendly and the filthy word “kalog”. I know that’s positive, I just don’t want the term.
A number of people see me in my fresh days as a nice person and put as a counter-part on the right side, intelligent and friendly. They just see the broader and deeper sense of me being nice. I’m glad I proved it well and not gaining the negative side or even frustrations from them. It just shows that I upgraded and not degraded throughout our 5 months.
Another one with the red ink puts that she had seen nothing from me before but found me cute. Well. Well. Well.
A couple made my first impression right as they write silent-type. One had given a last impression of me being good but the latter see me the same. As if I’m a silent freak!
Five consecutive students concluded upon first knowing me that I’m shy-type. Well that’s what I really want to show in my first days, to look like a loner. But then, coupled it with much vibrant adjectives such as very reliable, smart, intelligent, supermabait and the one who breaks it, maingay, I know my voice’s pitch. He/she is just honest.
Another couple sees me smart already but later found me as a good person and grade conscious. I wish being GC is not that bad.
 The best 3 impressions are as follows:
One from Erin, she first see me silent-type and an observer, but later found me as a leader, a dancer and smart.
Next to the countdown is Lester that had said from the very beginning, he saw me sosyal and bongga (somewhat big adjectives) and ended it with words, great and intelligent for his last impression.
And the topmost of all is the one from Marco, I just like the term used. He wrote that before I was mabait and tahimik but after, I am just an EXPONENTIAL OF MY FIRST IMPRESSION. How overwhelming! I love it.

I thank all of the respondents and it inspire me more because now, I know that I’m doing fine but then, I will strive harder to build up my personality not just to please you all but for my own sake, as I build up my credibility as one of the country’s finest journalist.

Monday, November 25, 2013

Tropang Likod: an exposé

                        No man is an island, as an old adage suggest. There will always be a circle of friends that will enclose you; a group of individuals that will treat you as their peers and a tropa that will make you feel that you belong.
                        Before, a week after my absence, I never thought I could find this dream tropa since I’m a late-comer in the class. I never thought that I could easily enter an already-established circle in the room. I feel like a black sheep, a loner but then again, no man is an island.
                        God may have pre-destined of which group I must be with, much better than of what I have expected. I never chose this but God had led me to them. The tropa I’ve had been into, my second family, my strength, my joy, my crown… Tropang Likod.
                        I remember the time when my life and these people meet at the junction. It was the day when we are tasked to get our National Library ID and afterwards proceeding to PUP for the Freshmen University Orientation.
                        At first, I observe. They are entirely different from the meek perception I have. They are great, so cool, and vibrant. I feel their aura and I love it.
                        5 months had passed and it is nearly December. Being with these people made my college life more meaningful, a sort of inexplicable feeling I can’t contain due to the gladness I have inside.
And now, I’m overwhelming with pride to share to all the people behind my successes, my inspiration and the set of souls that make me strong. I hereby present my tropa.
To start off, is the front-liner, our flag-bearer, Dianne Sabangan, the most vibrant. Although she comes from an elite family, she is not the kind of maarte and pa-chix. I know from the very start that her bubbliness is of different range, she is young, wild and free (thank you Wiz Khalifa for the adjectives). Even though that she is wild, we never see her as a bad influence (even she made us enter a bar without parent’s consent for just few minutes), but an inspiration of hope not to take life that serious, as she had said, “study hard, pray harder and f*** hardest.” Thank Dianne for her word of wisdom.
If there’s bubbly, there is a dark aura emitting negative radiation in our group. He is Mey-mey, the depressed. I first noticed him as an active student of the class, but most of his recitations are comprised mainly of questions about things we are not ought to think of. Truly, 99% of a man’s problem is self-made. But we love him that way.
Alicia, I know, she do not want to be called that way. And I know she might get upset making the point of her eyebrows as sharp as of her chin. But however, we are somewhat the best buddies in the room. Being her, the leading lady of her own movie interwoven by me during our petty conversations.
Her gummy bear, Charles, is one of my early companions in the class. Though his height is overwhelming, he is a giant, he is deep with his thoughts to the point that it can make me sober due to great laughter.
Busog, she just smiles, like a good conscience, a walking emoticon. She is caring to the point that she warns us to use the sidewalk on keen roads and maybe the first one to scream (silent scream) to signal us from an approaching vehicle.
Gelay, her antagonistic persona is accentuated more by her big, round eyes. She is grade conscious in the right sense. She is studious but not a geek. She has full of complaints to things that seems wrong on her eyes, mostly on those people making petty things and to those that suppressed her right to study. She established her credibility well and that’s nice.
Alex, the lady promdi province. Even she’s a town girl, she adapted well in the life on the city. Aside from her Filipino clock, she is remarkable for her MU-thing with her CommRes fellow.
The next is Cathrine, she really looks like at first, a K-pop star belonging to a known girl group but is deported to the Philippines in her own urge to be a journalist. I love her voice and her organized thing, not letting her papers have folded sides.
Kiya, she is a member of TL, di lang halata. One of my early companions and one of those who shared a lot about her ex’s and her new crush/es. She is known for her vogue poses and her fashionable dresses. I confessed she is one of wandi’s darlings of the crowd.
To follow is our TL boys…
Luigie, the tatay where the whole wandi generation rooted (I’m just a neighbor), is really matured in his ways and his superfluous language reflects his dream to be a journalists or a… teacher?
Next is Maouie, no mistake in spelling his name. His parents probably, just want to put all the vowels in him. He looks nerdy, at first, with his Ninoy Aquino glasses that is his asset. It makes him look more serious. Try imagining him on the 500-peso bill. It may look funny more if he does it with her devilish smile.
Peps, our wholesome and charismatic vice-president. Sometimes chill, more often funny. He is really smart for he is intelligent on how to act on different things. Many say he has the appeal. I agree. His frank thoughts may hurt your feeling primarily because truth really hurts and a Peps said it.
I consider myself as a sampid with this tropa and the people I had discussed earlier are the pioneers. Along the way, we have gathered more people inside our circle, specifically to our TL Boys, DOTA bound them, all.
First in line is Jerjer, one of the brightest in the class. He may not be that expressive but his silence could not hide the brilliance being a high school valedictorian and a winner at the National School Press Conference. His wholesome and crispy.
Next is, Marco. Emo. At first, I thought he is going to punch me whenever I approach him. He has the looks but then is not showy. His personality reflects his music of choice, rock: hard and metallic. But never to be underestimated, he is funny and it is his softer side. He is a fine actor that is the reason why I chose him on several characters on the play.
And can I forgot the Lord of Mustache, Honesto a.k.a. Miko. I know he is the most deserving person to have the superlative forms of adjectives. He is the big man of wandi. If you have problems on love, studies, family, and different aspects of life, don’t underestimate the power and wisdom of Miko’s mustache.
These set of people had influenced my ways. We may have different thoughts, personalities and ways of seeing things, in the middle of the intersection where we’d meet, we are tightly-bonded by a common interest and this is in respond on our longing for a tropa that will guide and support us in times of adversity and shortage in money.
“I love you and long to see you my dear friends, for you are my joy and the crown I receive for my work”

A game for Philippines

“I am pledging $ 1,000 for every point I score in the Lakers’ game on Friday (November 22) to the US Fund for Unicef. Will you help, too?” Los Angeles Lakes Star Pau Gasol asked in the website of United Nations Children's Fund (Unicef) to his avid followers.
The Spaniard had an additional motivation on crushing deeply Golden State Warriors in his drive to point more as he offer the near tourney for the young victims of typhoon Haiyan (Yolanda).
Gasol pledged a $1000 for every point he is going tom earn versus the warriors and convinced his fanatics as well to help and contribute in his advocacy campaign for the US Fund to the world organization for the youngsters.
“Children are suffering in the Philippines… They desperately need shelter, clean water, medicine, and nutrition,” said Gasol showing his earnest compassion for the youth of the country.
His supporters can also pledge with him for every point he is going to score on any amount by just posting it on his Twitter account @paugasol. They can also forward their donation directly to Unicef organization by visiting the website via link

Shoot it for the Philippines!

Saturday, November 16, 2013

The Man whose Tears Fell at Warsaw by Marc Ace B. Palaganas

“We can fix this. We can stop this madness. Right now. Right here, in the middle of this football field. I call on you to lead us. And let Poland be forever known as the place we truly cared to stop this madness.”- Yeb Sano
Yeb Sano, the official Philippine delegate at UN Climate
 Summit at Warsaw, Poland wipe
 his tears after delivering his heart felt 
speech in front of the world.
 Photo credits to
Every aftermath of a disaster is true weary. Assuredly, it is lots of tears, full of cries, brimming with sorrow and saturated with grievances. The chaos that kissed Philippines recently can be the greatest but it is still one of the many catastrophes that caught the attention of the world.

Before, I keep in visualizing what it feels like being under the wild breeze of Hurricane Katrina, fleeing from being submerged under from an approaching tsunami, be shaken on the earthquake in Haiti, or by a torpedo in Texas. I may not have experienced anything alike circumstances (and still not wishing for it to happen). But recently, by the effect of Yolanda that struck Philippines is an eye-opener of how damn tragedies are.
After the shower of doom given by the typhoon, the sun had shine but there is still the shower of lamentations, people bewailing for their dead/missing relative, for their dead livelihood and for their somewhat dead future.
During these days, there is really no reason yet to make fun though we are kilometers away from Leyte and other nearby, almost-erased islands. Yet, we are not blind and deaf not to see and hear how those people mourn for our help on television, radios and even to sensational tabloids.
I all see them cry and it is true, no drama. The pearl of the orient is now submerged in tears. Don’t be numb.
But there is one Filipino that stood them all and soulfully touches my heart and my eyes teary as well. He is the man whose tears fell at Warsaw.
Yeb Sano, the country’s climate change commissioner and the Philippines’ delegate to the UN climate summit in Warsaw, Poland has conveyed an agonizing plea on Monday.
In the summit, he associated the misfortune the country had undergone to persuade the people of the world to start up to clean their engine and fuel everyone’s desire to save our environment.
“I speak for my delegation, but I speak for the countless people who will no longer be able to speak for themselves after perishing from the storm. I also speak for those who have been orphaned by the storm. I speak for the people now racing against time to save survivors and alleviate the suffering of the people affected.” Sano said with a cracking voice that signals for the burst of emotion that is going to explode.
The Philippines’ representative refuses the fact that those calamities are natural and unavoidable thus, calling for an urgent resolution for such matter.
Having not get the resolution, he urge the people to commence a voluntary fasting as moved by his very own compassion to those Visayans having no food for the last weeks after the onset of the disaster.
He just made those flags cry, touch their hearts and inspire them as well. He just made it clear how the country appeals for ceasing climate change.
Above all those people who cried bemoaning for their missing relative, Sano, made us cry at all. That brown who gained a standing ovation and a round of applause showed how he love the Filipino people. He, indeed, just deserves to be the delegate of the Philippines to that summit at Warsaw.
As a Filipino, I’m overwhelming with pride because I never think Filipino could have say the right words of motivation and inspiration, the perfect syntax of words ever combined, that could enthuse, change and awaken the spirit of the world on that extent.
Long live to you!

Monday, November 11, 2013

Accrediting the Press ( pursuance of the accreditation exam in Journalism) by Marc Ace B. Palaganas

         Many are called, but few are chosen.
Before, a journalistic career was attainable by everybody as long as one can write. But freshly, when Senator Jinggoy Estrada projected a resolution that requires journalism graduates to take an accreditation exam in order to be a licensed press people, many got indignant and many journalism students's dream turn into blurry as if it move much further, drafting supplementary staircases towards it.

 These gain many pessimistic complaints from different sectors prodding this proposal will just aim to diminish the number of credible journalist existing in this-highly corrupted political country. It was like filtering our race to reduce the number of mouth that will speak against them, hands that will write to reveal their secrets and eyes that will espy over them (including the nose that will sniff their bad-smelling clandestine inside their closets).

All of those stuffs can be true but on another side of the river, however how evil this people plan for our future, we are PUPian journalist, can we fail such simple trial? It is just a matter of proving yourself. Comm’n, we are from the CHED’s Center of Development. Moving on. That's not the real case.

 It is a good thing that out of nowhere, the fourth estaters were in the limelight and we're noticed. The move provoked by the legislator is just a living proof of how religious is it to be a news man, as religious as engineers, architects, accountants and many more science-oriented, mathematically-inclined and mind-twisting courses.

We all know that everyone can write and in this age, it is really hard to distinguish who of them are genuine and who are not. Many stand to be a part of the newsroom but are they credible enough than those who spent four years to master their craft?

Bloggers, pharmacists, doctor, fashion designers, and even actresses are getting easy to obtain the glory of the byline. Are they worthy enough to endure with these powers?

Executive, legislative and judiciary branch move across a needle hole to have their spot on the pinnacle. How about our petty journalists, the fourth branch and the government’s watchdog? Indeed, an accreditation exam is painless if compared and just a simple pre-requisite to acquire such big, gigantic power, the power of the pen.

Today that the news became an essential stuff in life, newsmakers emit much louder noises, happenings and events to cover growing more brutal, it is the perfect time to rear an accredited press, a sifted set of scribes, a registered fourth estaters, a flock of journalism board passers, and a team of licensed writer that will comprised every newsroom, to gauge a spot on our most coveted dream, to have this piece of small paper ( if there’s any) that will certify our right for the privileges laid by the powers of the press and above all, to have journalism itself embedded as a part of our name, of our line and of our career.

Journalism offers one of the biggest powers a citizen could grasp and an accrediting exam is a sieve that will sift those that will qualify to hold the holiest job: only for the able and for the credible. It is just a matter of who are the fittest ones that can manage to captivate the exhilarating powers of the ink.

The accreditation stuff is of good worth to us. At last, we could attain the distinction that before was never given. We will never be just soon a mere journalism graduate but a journalist; registered and licensed. We must not be afraid whether we will or will not pass it or it is just a devil strategy to deduce our number. In the end, our fate is in our own faith. Let us all together hope to acquire our license for us to enter the door of the newsroom of the next-generation press. I decree and declare that within Pupian journalists, many will be called and all will be chosen.