james.soriano

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PUBLISHED: Student & Campus Section, Manila Bulletin, 24 December 2008 Issue (Page G-2)

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One of the unique things about our country is the fact that Christmas always starts much, much earlier here than the actual season does. I know for a fact that TV and radio hosts start hinting at it as soon as September, the first “-ber” month, begins. By the time we hit October, countdowns start appearing on our favorite morning shows, and commercials begin to have a Christmas-like feel.

When November rolls around, they start doing a variety of Christmas-related segments, like where to get your gifts and how to celebrate Christmas most economically. Households start putting up their decorations, friends start practicing their Christmas carols, and people in general are caught up in the spirited frenzy of Christmas shopping. It is an amazing phenomenon, since by the beginning of December it looks as if our country were one big Christmas tree, and we’re just waiting for Jesus to get born already.

This year, though, that atmosphere is noticeably absent—at least around the area where I live. Where the streets would usually be lit up with multi-colored Christmas lights, and noisy with those annoying Christmas carol tunes that manufacturers attach to them, the roads are as dull and quiet as they were all year long. The only Christmas carols I hear are from street children who knock on your car window in Quezon Avenue or pester you while you walk along Katipunan. Most of my neighbors haven’t even put up Christmas decorations.

In fact, if you were to come into my house you might think we had forgotten all about it. Save for one grey-colored wreath hanging on the front door and a couple of unopened gifts lying around in one of the corners, there is no sign that Christmas has entered this household. We didn’t even set up the Christmas tree.

The Christmas spirit seems to be dead.

But sometimes I wonder: what if you removed every single material manifestation that we have to remember Christmas by? Take away all the lights, the decorations, the commercials, the songs, and even the gifts. Would Christmas still be worth celebrating? Would Christmas still exist?

Last Friday at a Christmas party, my friend and I joked that you could boil down the true spirit of Christmas to gifts. And not in giving gifts, I said, but in receiving them. This is why in contrast to receiving, which is always unconditional (who wouldn’t want to get gifts?) we give gifts expecting something in return. This ’something’, of course, does not have to be material. It could be an emotion, like a feeling that someone is grateful, or putting a smile on someone else’s face. For this reason, Christmas is always partly selfish.

But I think that’s okay. I think everyone’s looking for something during Christmas, and that’s why the true spirit of Christmas depends on who you ask. For some, it is the chance to be with family you haven’t seen in a year. For others, it is the chance to be alone and get away from their own problems. Some look for love and the opportunity to be with someone special. Others look for forgiveness. Some people want to be able to finally complete the whole Simbang Gabi cycle. Other people, like me, don’t really know what we want for Christmas.

But the beauty of it all is that this season is just as much about receiving as it is about giving. You might not get exactly what you’re looking for, but it is that one time of the year that people are willing to collectively give, live, and let live—quite a remarkable feat for humankind. That is why miracles happen, why people find love, and why most people, even those who have nothing to smile about, can smile during Christmas.

The beauty of it all is that Christmas has always been about people.

That is why I don’t need to see decorations hung up or have gifts under the Christmas tree to feel the Christmas spirit. I just need to look around the dinner table, see the face of each member of the family, and I am reminded that whether or not it’s Christmas, I will always have a place to come home to.

Merry Christmas, everyone.

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PUBLISHED: Student & Campus Section, Manila Bulletin, 17 December 2008 Issue (Page G-2)

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At the Ayala Avenue-Paseo de Roxas junction in Makati last Friday afternoon, the multi-sectoral rally against Charter Change proved at least two things.

First, that rallies still work– sort of. During the days that followed, the Senate voted to junk the Constitutional Assembly, and House Speaker Prospero Nograles declared a ‘ceasefire’ on moves to amend the Constitution.

Second, it proved that people still cared. Well, some people, at least. The multi-sectoral rally did live up to its name. It drew a wide spectrum of protesters, from priests to politicans, capitalists to conservatives, students to street people. It was, on a miniature scale, almost ideally representative. Despite the disillusionment that pervades society when it comes to issues of politics, it is encouraging to know that some people still care about whether our government is doing the right thing.

It didn’t occur to me that it happened last Friday, though, until I came home that same night, when I came home to the sound of my parents watching TV Patrol in the living room, and in my head I blurted out, “Oh, that was today?” I guess I had been too preoccupied with my academic work the past week to be able to keep abreast with national news. I had the television turned off on most nights.

But the truth is, I consciously avoid following news on national politics whenever I can help it, which unfortunately isn’t very often because there is only one place at home to study in, and that place is where my parents watch the evening and midnight news, whichever is on by the time they arrive. Part of me is disenchanted whenever I hear talk on political squabbles or scandals or Charter Change, because it seems to me that nothing positive ever happens. But alas, due to ANC being on all the time, I am regrettably quite informed, and very disillusioned.

I used to be one of those young people who actively kept aware, though. I used to stay up to watch congressional sessions and impeachment votings, even if the results were mostly in favor of the Administration. But besides that, I used to make myself heard: I aired out my views to classmates and friends, whether or not they gave a damn, I blogged my positions, and I tried to join demonstrations whenever it was within my means to do so.

Nowadays I just sit around and watch re-runs of old sitcoms. I figure my voice won’t matter in the end. This issue proves my point.

It isn’t so much that amending the Constitution is such a horrible thing to do, it’s that they’re amending it for all the wrong reasons.

For one thing, this isn’t the first time that the Administration has brought it up. In fact, if my memory serves, they bring it up at least once every year. Not only that, they’re intent on making it happen before election time arrives, before her term expires. It’s been shot down again, but I’m wiling to bet a million bucks that it will come back to life by the time next year rolls around. This issue is turning out to be immortal.

For another, the method which they advocate to do it with, a constituent assembly, seems suspect. Loosely speaking, it will bring both the Senate (24 senators), and the House of Representatives (250 congressmen), the two houses of Congress, together in a meeting to vote on charter change. If three-fourths of all the members (198 votes) vote in favor of it, then amendments can be made to the Constitution. It would be fairly easy to predict how this one will go.

Somehow, I find it hard to convince myself that this little charade is for anything else than to keep some people in power.

Of course, it’s not like my voice will matter. My congressmen haven’t asked me whether I would be in favor of Cha-Cha, and I doubt they’ve asked anyone else who isn’t in government. I’ll have to wait until 2010– if we ever get there.

It’s thoughts like these that make me wish I had switched to another channel.

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PUBLISHED: Student & Campus Section, Manila Bulletin, 10 December 2008 Issue (Page G-3)

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Although I honestly expected (and wanted) The Golden Boy to win in his bout with Manny Pacquiao, I was as proud as anyone else to be a Filipino when Pacman handed him a decisive beating in eight rounds.

To find myself feeling this way was quite strange, to say the least. After all, I’ve been a ‘Pacquiao hater’ since he ceased becoming an underdog, and I honestly believe that people just put him on too high a pedestal. While he deserves recognition for what he does, I certainly do not believe that he is an adequate role model, much more worthy of the label ‘national hero’.

But during those moments of elation, I was very much able to put aside all of that. How couldn’t I? He had just dominated one of the ring’s most indomitable figures; what he had accomplished was the stuff of boxing legend. He had made history, and no matter which way I looked at it, I thought that was something our nation can truly be proud of. It was a large dose of inspiration, something that perhaps everyone needed in these times of desperation. I know I certainly did.

That’s what Manny Pacquiao is: a gigantic and addictive dose of inspiration. His life story in itself is inspirational. He was the poor peasant boy, the ultimate underdog who would beat all the odds, and upon whom Fortune would eventually smile upon. His represents the happily-ever-after of Juan de la Cruz’s story. In other words, he gives hope. He unifies us in our identity as Filipinos. It is in this way, I guess, that he is deserving of praise.

But while much has been said about the man of the hour, I feel that not enough has been said about the man who was behind his greatness.

That is why I want to talk about Freddie Roach, his trainer.

Freddie Roach comes from a rather mundane background. His career as a professional boxer was relatively unremarkable, save for the fact that he was on the losing end of most of his high-profile bouts. His fighting style was focused on being durable enough to outlast his opponents, and this eventually took a toll on his body. Due to the injuries he sustained throughout his boxing career, he currently suffers from Parkinson’s disease.

After he retired, he opened up his own boxing club in Los Angeles and became a full-time trainer. As Fate would have it, this is where he would eventually gain some measure of fame. He was thrice voted as Trainer of the Year, and among boxers he is one of the most popular trainers around. He has worked with figures such as Mike Tyson, Bernard Hopkins, and even Oscar de la Hoya himself, but on no other boxer has he had a more profound impact than on Manny Pacquiao.

This impact exceeds his influence on Pacman as a fighter. To Manny, Roach is more than just a mentor in boxing. “He is a friend, almost a father figure, and I listen to Freddie, whatever he tells me. He teaches me not just about boxing but about life. I am fortunate to have Freddie Roach in my life,” he stated in an article on ESPN.com published three days prior to his fight. It is worth mentioning here that Pacquiao did not have a father figure growing up.

It is perhaps a flaw of humanity that we never pay enough attention to the people behind the scenes, our eyes simply too focused on the man in the spotlight. For I believe it is doing this kind of good that is just as worthy, if not more so, of being written about and remembered. Freddie Roach is no hero, but he certainly deserves more credit for being the influence that he was to Manny Pacquiao, both as a fighter and as a person. And I think his story is something we can all draw inspiration from as well.

Nobody ever makes it entirely alone. Hercules would not have been Hercules if he didn’t have Phil. Even legends had their mentors.

To be that kind of a mentor; I think that is truly the stuff of legend.

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PUBLISHED: Student & Campus Section, Manila Bulletin, 3 December 2008 Issue (Page G-3)

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The eve of Bonifacio Day brings back memories of my first days as a freshman in high school, particularly the one where I was sitting in Filipino class listening to my then-teacher, Mr. Pioquid, give an introduction to the course.

I especially remember that the reason it wasn’t boring was because he made a lot of noise by dropping his empty tin can onto the cement floor, and then proceeded to liken our young minds to tin cans which must be empty in order to be capable of receiving new and valuable knowledge. Back then, it struck me as very profound.

But there is one other thing that I remember from that first Filipino session, and that is a small parenthetical remark he made while glossing over the more boring (and unfortunately, the more important) parts of the syllabus.

He mentioned something about us taking an Honors course in Filipino by the time we got to sophomore year. I remember that this struck me as very strange: I could understand taking an Honors course in Math or Science or English, like most other gifted students would in other schools. But why would we have an advanced course in Filipino?

Looking back, maybe I was asking the wrong question. What I ask now is: why don’t most other schools have advanced courses in Filipino?

Oops, dumb question. There are a number of good reasons why we don’t.

For one thing, what is the Filipino language in the first place? Is it Tagalog? Is it Tagalog with tidbits of regional dialects? Or is it a genuine halo-halo of all of our major tongues?

As for me, I really don’t know. Members of the academe are still debating these questions as we speak. Therefore, maybe Filipino is just our cop-out: it allows us to say that we have a national language, even if in reality, we don’t.

Besides, it’s not very wise to master a language that isn’t utilized very often in politics or trade. Our laws, for example, aren’t written in Filipino, and neither are our court rulings and executive orders. They are all written in English. That’s why our lawyers take the bar examinations in English, and those who come out on top, more often than not, are people who are very well-versed in the English language.

The same is true with the language of education. In what language are we taught Science, Math, and Religion? Heck, we can even go beyond that: what is the language of the educated and the elite?

It really isn’t a surprise, then, that people who belong on the upper limits of society, like many of the people I come into contact with everyday, like to laugh at people who don’t speak English very well. English is the language of the man in the mansion, while Filipino is the language of the man on the street.

Besides, English is the language of the professional. It is the key to getting employed. This is especially true nowadays, when the trend is to go abroad where all the lucrative jobs are. If your employers can’t understand you, how can you expect them to hire you? In fact, this is also true with jobs here at home. Do you think call center agents are paid to speak in Filipino?

Hence, maybe I should be thankful that I’ve been trained to value the English language ever since I was a young boy. I should be thankful that I was exposed early to English cartoons and stories, for without them I don’t think I would have developed affection for the language. I should also be grateful that I was sent to schools that put a premium on being able to express yourself effectively in English; otherwise my skills as a student would never have been recognized.

Finally, I should be grateful that I was born in a society that never fails to remind me why that’s important.

After all, you don’t need to love your language to be able to love your country. Right?