Tuesday, October 31, 2006

Halloween, The Beginning

No, this is not a write-up about an upcoming prequel to the successful horror movie franchise, even though I'm pretty sure Michael Myers and his legions of fans will be ecstatic about it. Neither is this an introduction as to how the Halloween season came to be or got its name. Nor is this about how the practice of trick or treating came about.

This year's Halloween simply just happens to be...my first. Bwa-ha-ha-ha-ha! Did I get 'ya there for a moment? Well, then there's your trick. (,")

Yes, it's my first Halloween here in the U.S. where they celebrate it with much bustle. I heard they are closing West Hollywood and Sunset Boulevard for the celebration. It must be exciting! I wish I can join the street party later tonight but I can't.

One, I don't have a costume. It's too early for me to be spending much for it when I haven't been here long enough to save up.

Improvise using things at home? I've thought about it. Maybe I'll grab an old pitch black blanet, inflict it with some ghastly tears, and bring a huge cleaver along. Har-har-har-har-har! There's some meat from the fridge I can thaw and use the blood for added props. Naaah, it's going to stench. Besides, a costume, as the name implies, is supposed to be make-believe. It's too risky to bring a real sharp I might end up inadvertently slicing up someone. And my aunt's going to wonder why her cutlery's incomplete.

Two, I don't have a car yet. I don't think my uncle & aunt, who are baby boomers, are excited about the street party as I am . They must feel such events are way behind them already. Besides, they'll be coming home tired from work tonight. We'll just have to settle for the trick or treaters who'll come by later. Public transportation? An access is quite far from where we live, and it's too much of a hassle and a risk with my costume in mind, don't you think?

Too bad, I know. I'll just make up in next year's Halloween. This early I've been conjuring up images from the darkest recesses of my mind as to who I'll come out as next year. For sure, I will dress up as one my horror icons. Here's a peek at three.

Jason Voorhees! Oh, yes! He is my ultimate childhood horror film hero. He has such a lingering presence that we've been through a lot together, from my prepubescence to early adulthood. Hak-hak-hak! His regenerative abilities make him immortal. They've killed him so many times and yet he's still around. You go, Jason! I wouldn't be surprised to see a billboard for "Friday the 13th part XI" (that is, not counting "Freddy vs. Jason" as part of either franchise). And you have to give the man the respect he deserves. He happens to get a lot of things done without saying much. Add to that his nanotechnology-induced reanimated body and enhanced invulnerability (as if he needs it). He's a real killer in every sense of the word.


Freddy Kreuger! Okay, I'm a tad large to assume his role but it's make-believe anyway. I'm sure I can get away donning a large-striped, green and red-orange sweatshirt, an unmistakably ghoulish fedora and his delightfully diabolical sharped gloves. It will be an honor to continue his lurid legacy of terrorizing people in their dreams. Hee-hee-hee. "A Nightmare on Elm Street" is by far the most imaginative horror film in its time and one of the most original horror films of all time. Horror master Wes Craven really had something brewing in his devil's pot with it. And even though most of the sequels are lame, I remain a loyal fan of this disfigured fright film fixture. Freddy took "nightmare" and "macabre" to inventive levels it never before triumphed in.

Last but not least, an Alien soldier from the mind of H.R. Giger! Now this is a kick-ass, badass character from the most compelling sci-fi/horror movie franchise of the 20th century. The primordial film from Ridley Scott was atmospheric. The adrenaline-pumped sequel from James Cameron was electrifying. The third installment from David Fincher had a deliciously doomsday feel. And Jean-Pierre Jeunet's "Resurrection" of the Alein legacy was refreshing. Lt. Ellen Ripley is a certified action/scifi/horror film heroine. Now, who can beat a genre-crossing and an astonishingly committed performance (earning an acting nomination) from Sigourney Weaver in all films?!

But the real stars of the show are the alien creatures who jump out of their eggs or ovums as facehuggers and leave an alien embryo to gestate inside the human body which, in turn, will eventually make its grand entrance into the world as a chestbuster. The adult alien has acid for blood, two sets of incredibly sharp teeth, and the dexterity of an ultimate killing machine. What more can you ask for?

Well, that's as far as my dream - or nightmare - of mephistophelean reveling on Halloween can get for now. I can't wait for next year. There's just so many nasty things you can do in so little time.

Muahahahahahahahaha!
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Photo credits: Michael Myers & Jason Voorhees images from Wikipedia. Freddy Kreuger image from official movie site. Alien image from official movie site.

Friday, October 20, 2006

Coming to America

The promising sentiment that the United States of America is a nation of immigrants became ever more perceptible in the last several months when arguments on immigration policies started to simmer and inevitably reached boiling points. The lure of this proverbial land of milk and honey had beckoned millions of people across the globe to come and partake of the bounty since several centuries ago.

Like most people, I came to America to seek greater opportunity, "greener pastures" being the timeworn phrase to refer to this generations-old ambition. Although I did not belong to the lower socioeconomic stratum, my life in the Philippines could be better. In a developing country that leaves much to be desired in its social, political and economic structure, and where the underprivileged far outnumber the affluent, a commoner's day's worth of labor is oftentimes less than a day's worth of decent goods. Common people's lives are stories of daily survival - how one gets by each day, one day at a time. The first level of Abraham Maslow's hierarchy of needs had nowhere been more palpable.

Providentially, my parents compelled me to take up Nursing in college. These times, being in the health care industry gives one advantage migrating to developed countries. It was an inopportune time, however, when I finally garnered my bachelor. The U.S. was struggling with recession. In effect, Philippine nurses scrambled into hospitals in the country creating a surplus of supply. Most of the new graduates found themselves in odd jobs and workplaces incongruous to their college education. Ties replaced stethoscopes over the necks of some. Others started to figure bills and coins over a counter rather than determine the number of gauze pads and surgical instruments over an operating table. There were those who opted to put up their own business. The rest, I included, went for further studies.

I eventually found work in the communications industry. My goal was fairly common as anyone else's when I started earning money. I set out to achieve three things: to provide myself the basic necessities of food, clothing, water and shelter; to buy a house, a car and a dog; and from time to time, to indulge myself and my loved ones. All that with my own hard-earned money. Not so much to ask for, is it?

But almost five years being part of the country's workforce did not entirely fulfill all three. Materialistic as it may sound, it felt utterly pathetic that I cannot even acquire all essentials with my own money. That being the case, I could not even begin to conceive being able to possess not only things I needed but also wanted. Auspiciously by then, things were again looking up - and overseas - for health care professionals. I decided to set my sights on a harbor I deserted a long time ago and prepared myself to leave behind the country that I have grown to love fervently despite its imperfections.

It was not easy to go back to Nursing as it had been almost a decade since I last read significant literature and, more important, nurtured another person's health and life. Armed with perseverance to make life better for me and my loved ones, and words of encouragement from classmates who have established themselves in different parts of the world, I read endlessly, underwent training diligently, and conscientiously reviewed and took all the necessary exams to become a U.S. R.N.

Now in the land of the plenty and still reeling from culture shock as of this writing, I feel astounded starting afresh in a strange world and making sense of this overwhelming new life as an immigrant. It is both a daunting and delightful state, like being left alone in a mansion of labyrinthine hallways, ornate stairways and massive doors requiring riddles to solve that will lead to rooms full of endless possibilities. There are so many things to do, plenty of places to go to, a multitude of people to meet, and an onerous amount of information to digest. I figured it best to take things as how most people went about life back home in my beloved country - one day at a time.

Thoughts about millions of immigrants that have come before me inevitably occupy my mind, and I could not help but ponder on my story and confess as to how it pallidly pales in comparison to those who came here for essentially more pressing reasons.

I read about this Rwandan man who escaped from ethnic cleansing and political oppression. He swam across the border to reach safety in Congo. Wanting to be as far away from his hauntingly harrowing past and imminently perilous present as possible, he settled in Austria and was able to come to the U.S.A. about three years ago and is now teaching human rights.

Another story is of a Tibetan girl locked up in prison since age 13 for the crime of peacefully professing her faith. After 11 years of incarceration, enduring beatings and harsh treatment, she has now found asylum in this land of the free and is a student, learning English so that she can speak out to more people about Tibet's cry for religious freedom.

And then there is this boy who was sneaked across the border from poverty-stricken Mexico for a chance at a better life. His American dream started to take flight when he was accepted into Harvard Medical School. Now a legalized citizen, he is a resident at a medical center in L.A. that provides health care services primarily to less fortunate blacks and Latinos.

Various people have individual reasons and personal stories of coming to America, but these different threads of dreams and desires all weave together to form a strong fabric of one cohesive design or purpose - to live free of the things that make our existence less meaningful and our lives less human.

I have not yet been to the Statue of Liberty but had heard and read about this epochal writing engraved at its foundation. One day I will find myself standing diminutively before that colossal and eminent symbol of empowerment and see with my own eyes, utter with my own lips and feel in my heart the words that have called upon many to make a new life for themselves in this new land:

"Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless,
The tempest-tossed to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!"

Monday, October 09, 2006

Blast Off

It has been more than three years now since I started thinking about having a blog. Time to invest in one is crucial, and propitiously at this point in my life I have the blessing of time on my side to start one. I only hope I can maintain it even for a certain period of time.

Anything first is generally considered a milestone in itself, for examples: firstborn child, first love, first honor, first human in space. This being my first flight into the immense expanse of the blogosphere is quite frightening for me. I have no formal training in professional journalistic writing. My writing manner and style are solely based on how I feel, letting ideas and emotions flow out as they please.

English is my second language, but I will use it as the primary communication tool for this blog. It is a powerful communication medium widely used in a variety of fields such as business, education, and international relations. More important, English is the language of enlightenment. It has been the proverbial weapon against myriad forms of oppression: social inequity, racial prejudice, religious bigotry, political persecution, gender insensitivity, cultural intolerance. It is interesting to note that people who are not native English speakers find reliable use of it to defend themselves against different faces of injustice.

My mother tongue, the Filipino language, I will use from time to time. It is as dynamic as any progressive language can be. It has evolved from the ethnocentric Tagalog to what is now a beginning amalgamation of the plethora of dialects of the Philippine archipelago, with various homages to Chinese, Spanish and English words. It is still largely based on the Tagalog dialect with the hope of developing into a unifying language for the whole 7,107 Philippine islands.

It is of crucial significance that people have an appreciation of their heritage, language being one of its many manifestations. Use it or lose it, as they say. Staying close to the ancestral light is a pertinent lesson I learned thus far in life. It is the light that will guide us in our personal journey. Sir Winston Churchill aptly put it: "The farther backward you can look, the farther forward you can see." We have equivalent words-of-wisdom in Filipino which we refer to as salawikain: "Ang hindi lumingon sa pinanggalingan ay hindi makakarating sa paroroonan." (Those who cannot look back to where they came from cannot get to where they're going). Staying close to the ancestral light also keeps us warm in cold and cruel moments of self-doubt, for it is in embracing our origin are we essentially ourselves.

Writing is said to be cathartic. It's like warm chicken soup in a cold, rainy afternoon. Some people encounter it as hobby, others discover it as livelihood. Writing, for me, though, is neither hobby (or at least, not yet) nor livelihood. I have not written often. My writings had been few and years between. I just write whenever and whatever I feel like. From that vantage point, this blog will probably contain random, run-of-the-mill postings and fleeting moments of literary brilliance.

But I have been blessed with those magical moments of verbal creativity, and when those moments come writing becomes my serving of joy and helping of refuge. As many shades of ink splatter on the pages of my life, it is in writing that I find the passion to make good use of the splatters, creating out of them compositions that render to me my existence more comprehensible, ultimately capturing the world in a more intelligible light.

Wherever this digital journey might take me, I hope it will be in the best interest and toward the enrichment of things that matter to me most. What are they? At this point, I have no freaking idea! Hahaha! I suppose the discoveries will come into light when my thoughts finally come into fruition.

Unang Sabak

Matagal ko nang pinag-iisipan gumawa ng sariling blog. Bigo ako noon mahanapan ng panahon isakatuparan sa pamamagitan nito ang mga kathang walang tigil palutang-lutang sa aking imahinasyon; Maraming responsibilidad na kailangan unahin at mga prayoridad na dapat pagtuunan ng kaukulang pansin. Magkaminsa'y matagal bago ako bisitahin ng antok. Ang pagkagat ng dilim ang nagsisilbing batingaw para maglabasan mula sa aking isipan ang samu't-saring ideya, lumilikha ng animo'y pelikula na walang katapusang gumigiling sa aking ulirat.

Bago ko nasimulan itong paunang salita, maraming pangalan ng blog ang naglaro sa aking isipan. Maraming beses akong nagpalit ng pangalan kaya't ang paunang salitang ito'y dumaan din sa ilang pagbabago bilang pag-aakma sa pangalan ng blog. Bakit "Undress Me Gently"? Kasi para kang naghuhubad sa ibang tao sa pagbahagi mo sa kanila ng iniisip mo, ng nararamdaman mo, ng mga importanteng aspeto ng buhay mo, at ang pagkilala sa isang indibidwal ay hindi nadadaan sa paspasan. Kaalinsabay nito ang pag-asang mas mauunawaan ka ng kaulayaw mo dala ng iyong paggiging makatotohanan sa iyong sarili at sa kanila.

Batid ko ang takot maging personal blogger. Hindi ka ligtas sa pagkilatis ng sinuman sa mundo na may koneksyon sa Internet. Bukod diyan, hindi ako eksperto sa pagsusulat ng ganitong tipo - 'yun bang parang diary o journal. Nagsusulat lang ako tungkol sa mga personal na bagay kung kailan ko, 'ika nga natin, "feel". Isa pa, limitado pa rin kahit paano ang bokabolaryo ko sa Filipino. Pero sa kabilang banda, nakakapagpalaya ang makapagbahagi ng nasasaisip at nasasapuso mo sa pamamagitan ng pagsusulat - putaktihin man ito ng batikos, yakapin ng pang-unawa o paulanan ng papuri.

Ingles ang gagamitin kong midyum ng komunikasyon para sa blog na ito para mas maraming tao ang makatagpo ng kaugnayan sa aking mga akda (akda raw, o!). Pero dahil walang kasing sarap ang makapagbasa ng sulatin sa wikang sarili, gagamitin ko rin ang Filipino paminsan-minsan. Ngayong nasa ibang bansa na ako, mas lalo ko pa dapat panatilihing buhay at pagtibayin sa aking sarili ang isa sa mga matayog na pagkakakilanlan ng ating kultura - wika - sa pagsusulat man o pakikipag-usap. Bakit 'kanyo? Itanong kay Jose Rizal. Sagot niya? Ang hindi marunong magmahal sa sariling wika ay higit pa ang amoy sa malansang isda.

Marahil pinakadamang palagay ko sa pagkakaroon ng blog ay isa itong buntong hininga para sa mga taong tulad ko na naging daan ang pagsusulat sa pagpapayabong ng mga ngiti at paghihilom ng mga sugat na natamo habang namumuhay sa mundong ibabaw, gaano man kadalas o kadalang ang mga pagkakataong iyon. Ang mga panahong yaon ay mahahalagang bahagi ng ating personal na kasaysayan sapagkat ang mga ito'y mga pagkakataon ng pasasalamat at pagsubok, ng biyaya at kalinawan.

Dito sa panibago at panimula kong paglalakbay sa walang sukdulang kalawakan ng blogosphere, mula sa aking isipan hanggang sa computer screen ng sinumang makatagpo sa aking mga katha saan mang sulok ng daigdig, umaasa akong mas makikilala ko pa ang aking sarili at ang munting unibersong ginagalawan ko. Sa pamamagitan nito'y makakapag-ambag ako ng kahit kaunting bahagi ng aking pagkatao sa mundo.

Sa ngayon, hanggang dito na muna at maraming salamat.