The Magnificent Atty. Perez

Despite the looming food shortage and political crisis of our turbulent country, I still have faith that we Filipinos will prevail.

Let our loving and compassionate nature seek to help one another in these times of hardship, and together, we can surmount these tough times.

This is reposted from my friend Jeneen’s Multiply blog: http://neenerish.multiply.com/reviews/item/12. Jeneen used to live in Cebu and wrote for one of our local dailies. This is one of her best pieces, which I’ve always loved the first time I’ve read it.

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I should have known moving to Cebu would be anything but normal.

Twenty minutes into my six-month stay here, I found myself standing by a grassy embankment a few hundred meters from the Mactan airport, dumped by an irate taxi driver when I refused to pay the P150-fixed charge to my boarding house in Gorordo. I tried to keep my righteously disdainful look on, but it was hard with rain dripping from my hair. It seemed the city hated me at first sight.

Cebu, I soon found out, had a secret language all its own—I was doomed to getting dumped on some nameless road unless I learned it. No way was I standing on that embankment ever again.

I resolved that my first lesson in the language was to find my way around. I’ve never seen a map of the city, but I paid attention when my Cebuano friends toured me those first few weeks. Despite my poor sense of direction, I began to notice that Cebu’s streets make no sense at all.

Driving down the twisting streets that defied planning logic, we would end up back where we started by going in the direction away from it. On the other hand, supposedly parallel streets would lead to opposite sides of town.

Traffic flows in at least 10 different directions at the Gorordo and Mango intersection. Only one traffic light acts as referee. In any other city in the world, it would be a pedestrian’s nightmare. But not in Cebu where jaywalking is a foreign word.

At least four streets are named Osmeña in this city alone—Osmeña Boulevard at the Capitol, S. Osmeña along the pier, E. Osmeña in Banawa, J. Osmeña near Mango—even a Fuente Osmeña rotunda where the traffic routes are crazier than at the aforementioned intersection. Curiously enough, I’ve never met a Cebuano who confuses any of the streets.

Having a car is one matter, commuting another.

My first weekend, I decided I wanted house supplies from SM. I asked my neighbor for directions since all my Cebuano friends were out. “Take the 13C to Ayala,” she said, “You’ll find the right jeep from there.”

Not knowing what a 13C was, I took the first jeep I saw and said I wanted to go to Ayala. All the passengers vainly tried to hide their laughter. A kind soul said Ayala was “duol na”, and pointed to some vague, opposite direction. This jeep would take me to Colon, he said, where I could get a ride to SM. Who would have thought even Cebu’s jeeps had an alienating code?

It wasn’t long, though, before these oddities began to fascinate instead of baffle me. The crazy streets to me now are like secret passageways that somehow all lead to my street. It delights me that every road is connected to every other road, no matter how inconceivable it seems. I relish giving out jeepney codes like a natural when a stranger asks for directions.

And it didn’t surprise me to see bars and restaurants popping up everywhere when the national economy was supposedly at its worst—Cebu is a city you accept, not attempt to understand. Until you know this, you can never fully appreciate its charm.

I should have known it from the way I got out of that first sticky situation.

There I was, alone on the highway, with nothing but my staunch principles, a suitcase, and a box of worldly possessions at my feet. I was getting wetter by the minute and no passing car seemed to care.

Suddenly, rounding the bend was an empty taxi that stopped in front of me. The driver agreed that I pay by the meter. Exhausted, I exchanged only a few words with him, who thankfully did not force a conversation.

When we got to the boarding house, the driver even helped me carry my things! I couldn’t believe my change of fortune. I made a mental note to thank him profusely after paying my fare. As I opened my mouth to say “Salamat”, he stopped me with a barely audible yet definite “I love you”.

I couldn’t say anything, and he didn’t wait for my reaction. He simply rode off in his white taxi, never to be seen again.

No matter that my knight in armor looked like a cross between the April Boys and the Reycards, complete with longish hair, an earring, and oversized shades. He is ultimate proof that Cebu does love me—in its own unpredictable, often irrational, but always, always endearing way.

Our Father, who art in Heaven — Holy be Your Name.

Your Kingdom Come

Your Will Be Done

On Earth as it is in Heaven

Give Us this day our Daily Bread

And forgive us our Sins

As we forgive those who Sinned against Us

And lead us not into Temptation

But deliver us from Evil

For thine is the Kingdom, and the Power and the Glory.

Now and Forever.

Amen.

We live in dire times. It is the Ides of March, and the heat of summer brings with it whispers of shortage, famine and economic downturns.

I was reading the column of Alex Magno in the Philippine Star (click on <this link> to read it), and it tells a cautionary tale of how the United States’ impending recession brings with it an adverse effect on the world and our very own Philippines. To quote Mr. Magno:

Analysts are now talking about things that seemed unthinkable only a few weeks ago. Oil, for instance, could reach $120 a barrel very soon.

The reason for that is no longer the dynamics of supply and demand. Oil futures are now under great speculative pressure. As a hedge against the falling dollar, the large institutional funds are putting their money in commodities futures — oil being one major commodity.

Hedging in commodities are pushing prices across the board. It is not only oil that is rising. Grains prices are rising too.

That hits us as well.

Unusual weather the past few months have cut into global grains productions. China, hard hit by extreme cold weather and excessive rains, is prowling all the markets, buying up rice. Vietnam, unsure about its own supply, is not exporting.

We are facing a grains shortage here. Heavy rains in the Visayas and Mindanao drenched the harvest. Imported rice is going to cost significantly more, if we could find enough being exported by other countries.

Rice supply is going to be a problem for us the next few weeks. We are not sure we will be able to procure enough. Even if we do, the commodity is going to cost us more.

The news that the Philippines is hit with a rice shortage is especially frustrating for me. I was just recently in Iloilo, which is one of the country’s major rice producers. During my stay there for the past few days, I’ve been riding the bus going to both Roxas City in Capiz, and Kalibo City in Aklan, and witnessed for myself the endless expanse of ricefields and flatlands, seeing with my own yes how rich our Western Visayas land is. For sure, this is not the only province in the Philippines that has a strong agricultural sector. In Luzon, Visayas and Mindanao, we have been blessed with abundant natural resources that will allow our country to be self-sustaining, if only in terms of food production.

And yet, look at us!

We import rice from Thailand and Vietnam, countries that were back before the 1970’s, lagging so far behind us in terms of economy and food production. In fact, the Philippines had the best scientific research institute for the production of rice, which is the International Rice Research Institute in Los Baños, Manila. The Thai and Vietnamese government sent their own scientists to learn how to grow the best rice yield from our country.

But look at us now! We have to beg for rice from our own neighbors who learned how to optimize rice production from us!

It gets even more infuriating when you think about all the opportunities we have had and lost to improve our agricultural sector. The most major opportunity being the “Comprehensive Land Reform Program”, which supposedly empowers our farmers by breaking them from the bondage of agricultural tendency through granting them land which the government mandatorily purchases from private landowners.

Has the CARP really improved our farmers’ lives in any way?

Look at the sugarfields of Negros Occidental, where you still see to this very day, poor and uneducated laborers being paid so much less than minimum wage for backbreaking work. Look at the farms and haciendas that conveniently side-stepped coverage from CARP by allegedly growing “cattle” and having “agricultural corporations” on their land. Go to the farmlands of Capiz where in this age of tractors and the scientific method of farming you still see farmers tilling the land with the lowly carabao and drying their grain by the roadsides where it may be swept away by strong winds and rain.

You see, the problem is not that our population is too big for our food production to supply to. Our problem is that our current agricultural system for the whole country is still stuck on methodologies and farming techniques used at the turn of the 19th Century, which does not yield enough to feed our starving nation. Hence, we have to import food at a higher premium when we have the capacity to solve our own problems with the right farming science and technology.

One of our problems is our very own Filipino farmers. The CARP Law is one major blunder. While the dream of having our own farmers tend to their own land is a laudable objective, the Philippines never developed a comprehensive program that followed up after the CARP. While it is true that SOME of our farmers now own the land that they till, the reality is that these farmers do not know what to do with that land after acquiring ownership. For sure, to increase the land’s yield, they should buy more fertilizer and learn scientific means for better agriculture. If they lacked capital, they could turn to agricultural loans provided by the government, the Asian Development Bank, and a host of private lending institutes offering various credit arrangements for agriculture. They could have sent their children to UP - Los Baños, or to the Visayan State University in order to specialize in courses like BS Agriculture with a Major in Soil Science, and a multitude of other like courses. They could even have banded together through agricultural cooperatives upon which our government grants numerous tax and fiscal incentives, as well as grants and loans.

But most of our farmers did not do any of this! Sometimes, the reason for sticking to the old ways of agriculture is: “I’m old and too set in my ways. I don’t have the time to learn how to use a tractor or these scientific techniques. I just want to farm the way my father did and his father before him.” These farmers do not even want to send their children to agricultural schools because (1) they need the extra manpower in the fields, (2) they would rather send these children to professional schools where they can become office workers, nurses, lawyers and accountants and earn more.

Clearly, these farmers are too poor and ignorant to know that there is a better way for them to improve their lot in life without abandoning their family’s calling to become farmers. It’s just so sad because all the avenues and opportunities have been made within their reach, if only they were not scared to try a different way of farming.

And while our government has been trying hard to encourage our agricultural sector, still, its efforts are not enough. There is still so much room for improvement that it is not taking advantage of.

The government could ultimately solve the peace-and-order situation in Mindanao so that its farmers can finally till the land in peace, and economic development could finally find its way to the fat and abundant agricultural potential of the southern region of the country. It could provide better teachers and facilities to our far-flung barrios, educating our children and making them see that agriculture can and will lead to financial prosperity with the right application of knowledge and skilled endeavor. It could build better roads, provide superior infrastructure, and set up administrative systems to ensure fast and efficient distribution of food and resources.

But what do we have instead? Anybody remember the fertilizer scandal of last year involving a certain unpopular president and her even more unpopular husband?

Our own private institutions are wanting. Instead of encouraging our children to become farmers, scientists, entrepreneurs and skilled workers, we are instead pushing them to become seamen, nurses and medical professionals so that they can go abroad and bring money back to the family. Instead of upholding the dignity of labor and the beauty of the countryside, we have a culture that sneers at probinsyanos and looks down on municipalities that do not have their own shopping malls and fast food outlets. Where we encourage our young to go out and build businesses of their own, instead, we give them the easy way out by becoming call center agents with ludicrous salaries for unskilled work.

We Filipinos are killing our own Philippines! We used to be the richest country in Asia! Japanese housewives came to our country in the 1950’s looking for work as househelpers. When Vietnam used to be just a poor hovel that travelled on rikshaws and on foot, our country already had its own airline service that flew to international destinations.

Look at those countries now! Japan was thrown nuclear bombs but it built itself from the ashes to emerge as one of the leading technological wonders of the world. Vietnam just recently launched its first satellite to outer space!

We used to be so much better than our neighbors, but we’ve become the country that everybody looks down on. Our women have become commodities sold on the internet for lonely and desperate old white men who just want to marry a glorified housemaid. We’ve become entertainers, and minstrels, exporting our skilled and learned by the droves to other countries. We are so poor that we cannot even afford to grow our own rice and buy it instead from neighbors who learned how to culture rice from our own laboratories.

And yet….

There is still hope. There is always hope. I refuse to believe that things are so bleak that we have no other recourse but to desert our country like rats fleeing from a sinking ship instead of working hand in hand to solve our problems. We are so much better than this. We are so much better than we allow ourselves to give credit for.

We need a PARADIGM SHIFT and we need it NOW!

I am calling upon the Philippine government to stop playing politics and start running the country back to track.

I am calling upon the farmers and private institutions to realize the value of a strong agricultural backbone as a means of making our country self-sufficient and economically feasible.

I am calling upon our youth to realize that there’s no such thing as easy money, and challenging them to work towards going back to the farmlands and reaping the true riches from our Philippine soil.

I am calling upon each and every Filipino, from Luzon, Visayas and Mindanao, to each and every foreign land and clime, this is a wake-up call because it’s no longer a question of will the Philippines become the economic superpower that it once was in Asia.

It has become a question of SURVIVAL and we are soon going to become a dead country unless we get our act together and start making sure that our institutions, systems, values and philosophies are geared towards becoming greater than the morass of pettiness that we have become.

We live in dire times.

It is the Ides of March, and the heat of summer brings with it whispers of shortage, famine and economic downturns.

We need to act NOW!

In one of my previous picture posts, I talked about the symbolic significance of water in my life and how during times that I am stressed, troubled or in despair, I dream of being near bodies of water.

I am going through one of those times now.  A lot of times I think about how much simpler life was when I wasn’t an adult, where I didn’t have to deal with choices, responsibilities, relationships, or be worried about the state of the nation and the rising costs of basic commodities and goods.

Sometimes I find myself wanting a quiet and uncomplicated life, much like the subject of this series of pictures lead, the Badjao children.

How much simpler it is to be Badjao.  A lot of people look down on the Badjao, because it seems that they live a life spent begging.  It didn’t used to be like this.  My bestfriend Danny C. told me that the Badjao are really a peaceful tribe of indigenous people from the Southern parts of Mindanao who had spent a simple life of subsistence fishing.  They are a peaceful tribe, unused to conflict and warfare, getting along well with each other and always smiling.

It’s a pity that these Badjao have been displaced back in the 1970’s during the time of the political upheaval in Muslim Mindanao.  These poor non-violent people were forced out from their ancestral homelands by their more warlike neighbors, and in order to escape the massacres of that era, the Badjao were made to flee to various parts of the Philippines.

Unused to a life of toil and hardwork, it is now common for us to see the Badjao here in Cebu, in Cagayan de Oro, in Davao, and yes, even in the wharves of Tagbilaran, Bohol, where I took these shots.

Growing up in a family where I was raised to value the dignity of work, I had come to look down on the Badjao.  All you ever see them doing is beg, beg, beg.  They’re dirty, unmannered, and rude.  However, after I heard the story from Danny, I grew to see the Badjao in a different light.  These people have never known better because all their life, they had always known simplicity and living off the sea.  To force them to adapt to the complicated rules and values of the big city is asking too much of these simple people, who now adapt to it the best way they know how… through begging.

I am older now.  I have adapted to the city.  I have work that keeps me facing my laptop the whole day long.  My life has definitely become complicated, and sometimes, it is too complicated.  I’m always exposed to pressure and expectations and a lot of times, it takes everything I have in me just to keep up with my job.  Unused to running, I trip on my feet and land hard on my face.  To quote a toy figure that my other bestfriend Johndi gave me back in high school, “Getting older sucks.“

And now, these times, I envy these Badjao children.  Instead of looking down on them, I envy their simple uncomplicated lives.  I envy their freedom, their ability to laugh at their hardships, the close bond that they have with the sea and with each other.  Yes, their lives are tough and it borders on day-to-day survival.  But then again, can we really say our lives are much better?  True, we have more resources and wealth than these little beggars, but in exchange for these, we are saddled with burdens such as taxes, responsibilities, and for us lawyers, an exacting code of professional ethics.

Tell me now, are our lives really any better than theirs?

We are still beggars, living off grace and looking to God to provide us with our daily bread, regardless of whether we are Badjao children, Philippine presidents, or struggling CPA-lawyer-photographers.  Each of our lives are hard on one way or the other, frought with hardships, sacrifice and tears.  As that song by REM goes, “Everybody hurts.“

It is times like these that the Badjao children remind me that each and everytime a question of love, faith and hope arises with Jesus, it somehow always involved the water.

We see it when the apostles were trapped out at sea during the height of a mighty storm, and Peter called out to a soundly sleeping Jesus to save them.  “Oh ye of little faith,” Jesus said, as he brought the squall to subside and the boat back to safety.

We see it again when the apostles were out at sea and encountered Jesus walking on water.  Calling out to him, Peter got out and started walking on the waves towards Jesus.  But he looked at the tides, got scared and started to sink to the depths.  Again, calling out to Jesus, he came by and saved him.

Finally, I’m reminded of the time after the resurrection that Jesus told the apostles to cast their nets to the other side of the boat, and came back with a catch of fish overflowing to the brim.

We all experience the storms.  We all have questions of faith, and look within only to find ourselves sorely lacking.  And we cry out calling to the Lord for succour and He tells us, “Oh ye of little faith.”

Like the Badjao, we need to believe that despite all our troubles, tomorrow will be another day.  The sun will be shining and the tides will subside.  Like them, we are all beggars of faith, wholly dependent on our Father to get us through another long night.  And with this trust in Him, we lean back and smile.

The storms will not last forever.

It takes one step then another, holding Jesus’ hand, for us to find out to our disbelief, that yes, through the certainty of faith, we CAN walk on water.

I knew it was going to happen someday.

I would finally want to sit down and update my blog, but there is nothing that is worthy of writing about. So I just sit here, enumerating mundane points-of-time vignettes about my relatively dull life which are only of importance to myself.

So SHOO!…. you can stop reading now. I might bore you to tears.

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What, you’re still here?

You’re a lot more bored than I thought you would be. Well okay then, here are snapshots of my so-called life, as it is at the moment:

1) Christmas Party season

December is here and Christmas Parties about all over Cebu. I’ve so far been invited to two Christmas parties. The first Christmas party was supposed to be last November 30. It was to be an island hopping event with an overnight stay at a small beach resort. Well… it pushed through except for one thing: the office manager of the company (who was the one who invited me) conveniently forgot to pick me up on the day that we were to leave for the beach, which she said she would do. She called me up on the following working day, explaining that she had so many things to take care of that she only remembered forgetting to pick me up when she got to the beach herself.

Yeah right.

Oh well… I didn’t want to make a big deal about it, so I just let it slide. I don’t know what the deal was with her, so I just let her be. *shrug* I was kinda disappointed though because I was looking forward to taking pictures of our island-hopping trip, as well as night shots of the moon-lit beach.

Last night, I attended another client’s Christmas Party, which was a masquerade ball held in Fort San Pedro. That one was very interesting. I bought myself one of those cheap 9-peso plastic masks sold in the local department store, expecting my client and his employees to do the same, but to my surprise, they came with elaborate masks that they fashioned themselves, very much like those found in Venetian gala parties in the Victorian era. Well, what would you expect from a company that exports furniture accessories? They’re bound to have very creative craftsmen. I was made to be one of the judges in all their contests for the night, witnessing their hidden talents, such as singing, dancing, and creativity in certain games. And, as concluded by their very own bosses, it was remarked, “Some talents should remain hidden.”

They had very interesting games which I’ve never seen before, such as “Dress Up Your Santa Contest” where each team was given red crepe paper, a roll of scotch tape, and a whole bag-full of foam-cotton, the objective being to convert one of their members into the closest parody of Santa Claus, front and back. We had to disqualify one team because they dressed up their member as Mrs. Claus.

Another interesting game was the “Gift Wrapping Contest.” This was interesting because it comprised of two members from each team, each pairs’ right and left hand tied together while their untied hands had to work in tandem to wrap a Christmas present.

I have a feeling that I will be invited to three other clients’ Christmas parties within the month. Our firm’s own party is coming up on Friday, and already there is this really gigantic box under the office Christmas tree with my name on it. I hope it’s not a stripper in hiding. I only plan on opening that box on Friday. She might starve.

2) Christmas Gifts -

I’ve done my Christmas shopping early and bought gifts for all my inaanaks and some pamangkins, as well as some gifts for the people in the firm. I’ve gotten some gifts in advance as well. A client sent me a cake from La Marea, and another sent me that gigantic box which I previously mentioned. My parents gave me my Christmas gift in advance, a handsome and lightweight black jacket with reflector stripes. Also, last November, I got a stack of books from my sister.

The only people I haven’t bought a gift for yet are for those close to my heart: some friends (the special children), my sister (Nips, timbon na lang when you get home), and my parents. It is impossible to buy gifts in advance for my folks, especially for my dad, who is picky about the things you give him. So for Christmas, I will have to take them both to the mall to do our shopping.

3) Simbang Gabi -

One of my favorite Christmas traditions is coming up tomorrow, the Simbang Gabi. I’ve been going to the Simbang Gabi all my life, accompanying my mom, lola, tita, sister and cousins for this annual tradition, but it has only been for the last 5 or 6 years that I’ve made a habit of completing the attendance of all 9 days of the Simbang Gabi.

My family attends the Simbang Gabi of Redemptorist Church, which is held on 5am, starting tomorrow. The nice thing about going to Redemptorist Church is that they have immediately after the mass, as certain charitable churchgoers sell foodstuff the capital AND proceeds of which go directly to the Church fund, which has benefitted many scholars and calamity victims over the past few years. Plus, some of the pama-init stall vendors include Cafe Laguna which sells their well-reknown bibingka.

Since tomorrow is the first day of the Simbang Gabi, and a Sunday to boot, expect very large crowds.

4) Balikbayan in town -

One of my oldest and closest friends arrived in town yesterday night, flying over from New Jersey in the United States. This friend is Dr. John David Seno, a Board topnotcher twice over (once in the Philippines and the other time in the US, where he scored 99 in the recent exam… the highest score ever achieved in the State of New York).

This guy has been my bestfriend since the 5th Grade. If you think that I’m one of the screwiest and most green-minded persons, you’ve ever met, well let me reveal to you that my corrupting influence is this guy, Johndi. This is the same guy who introduced me to the wonderful world of pornography and hard partying, for which I am eternally grateful for.

Johndi was into photography even way back in our teens, so I hope to take Johndi out down South later this month for a photoshoot with me in one of the Churches. Plus, I wanna see how it feels like to use a Nikon D80, which is the SLR being used by Johndi.

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And that is my life, so far.

And whoah! I’m blogging again.

In basic general science, we’ve learned that a body at rest does not launch into motion unless propelled by a force of energy sufficient to overcome the pull of gravity upon its stationary mass.In my case, I am a body at rest and in lieu of gravity, the forces which have frozen me into inaction (and sometimes stupification), are the mind-numbing paralyses of stagnation and ennui.

The fact is that I just don’t want to move.

I just want to crawl under a rock like a dung beetle and bide my time away while I make sense of my bearings and understand where True North lies for this mangy, flea-bitten wolf.

Unfortunately, Time won’t stand still with me. It moves in tides and ebbs with the threat of prescriptive periods, deadlines, and deliverables. While I remain as a practitioner of law, I cannot afford the steep price of killing time to get to know myself better.

My responsibilities to the law firm and its clients is paramount over my own selfish self-interest. These are without mention of my heavier duties to my family, as one of its breadwinners.

I am an object in motion whose critical mass of stagnation and discontent demands that I shut down and store potential energy. Unfortunately, the strong winds of duty, necessity and survival prod me along unwillingly towards a stumbling vector of resistant movement.

In truth, I do not wish to be made to move against my will. I want to act of my own volition, towards the first quadrant of the vector, where the passion of my spirit increases in proportion to the distance covered by my movement. Rather than be made to move against its intent, this object that desires to be at rest wishes to find the energy within itself to move and run by bounds and leaps.

And what is this inner energy that I seek? Some men have named it as Inspiration, Passion and Purpose.

But of those, I have none.

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And with this, I apologize to my regular readers (if I have any left) from my long absence and erratic pause-gaps in blogging. I just don’t have it in me to summon the arrogance and project the sublime bastardry of the Magnificent Atty. Perez. Right now, I’m just Janjan, a tired and overworked new lawyer.

Ever since I’ve graduated from high school, I’ve either been studying or working or both. At the most, I have had only my summer vacations back in my undergraduate years in Accounting to count as real vacations where I had nothing to do but lounge around in the house.

And I’ve realized that I’m tired. I want to run away. That is my fondest wish. I want to get lost to this world, to be a complete stranger in a strange land. I want to take time, a year and a day, to just stop and reflect. I want to reorient myself, know where I’m headed, understand who I am, and just reconnect to the world that I feel I’m alienated from. I want to take time to meditate and get to know my God better.

But of course, that is just an idle fantasy. The reality is that I have duties at home, to my clients and to life in general that bars me from irresponsibly dropping everything and being self-indulgent. But nevertheless, I can always run away in my dreams.

The question begs therefore… where will I run off to? What will I do? What will I carry?

Well… in my imagination, I’m packing the following things: One week’s worth of change in clothes, plus a lot of laundry soap for my washing. A strong, sturdy and waterproof knapsack. A nuclear-powered laptop with satellite link to the Internet (so I can still keep track of the world and let everyone know that I’m alright and alive), a magnesium-alloy body DSLR, with a full complement of Nikkor lenses (macro, fisheye, tele-zoom, and wide-angle). The camera should be chargeable against the laptop’s nuclear battery.

I would be riding an amphibious car that can run on land or water, powered by super-efficient solar panels. My wallet would have enough to meet for my basic needs during all the time that I’m away. I will carry a cellphone with satellite link-up, but on a strict firewal that only allows me to be accessed in case of someone dear to me.

And now… where do I go off to? Where will I spend my year and a day in solitude?

My conditions are that the place where I am going to must be quiet, solitary and cut-off from the rest of the world. I would like to hear myself think, that’s why I would like to go to:

1) The Benedictine Trappist monastery in Belgium that reputedly brews the best beer in the world. I would love to stay there and learn the secrets of their brewery. Plus, I could also learn the Benedictine’s discipline of prayer and meditation. They could assign me somewhere, perhaps to their vegetable patch or to their carpentry room, where I could make myself useful. I could already imagine myself in the beautiful and cold temperate forests of Belgium, taking pictures of black bears and wolves, and hying off for vespers at the Trappist chapel. And as we turn in for the night, we are handed our ration of heaven’s beer.

2) Osaka, Japan, the birthplace of karate, where I will train with the best karate masters in the world. I’ve been a Japanophile way before the advent of the anime craze in the Philippines. I love the quiet minimalism associated with Japanese culture. I want to wake up to a glorious sunset with a D300 in hand, taking pictures of cranes bobbing for fishes in the Osakan sea.

3) The Banaue Rice Terraces. I want to live amongst the Ifugaos, and get my hands dirty planting rice alongside them. I want to take pictures of their ritual medicine dances and sleep in their conical stilt huts.

4) The Wudan Temple in inland China… the one that was used in the movie “Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon.” Oh to learn meditation principles and kung-fu with the Wudan masters…. that would be a treat. Mind you, I am not talking about the Shaolin monks (the ones in orange robes, practicing Buddhism), but the brown robe-clad monks of the Taoist sect. Why? Because if you’ve seen the movie, you’d know how breathtakingly beautiful the Wudan Temple is and how hard it is to access.

5) The wineyards of Champagne, France, where I will harvest the delicate white wine grapes together with the French peasants. A bonus for me would be if it has an eerie forest, just like the one seen in “Le Pacte le Loupe” (Brotherhood of the Wolf), where there are great photo opportunities waiting to be captured.

6) Barcelona, Spain, where my Perez roots are said to hail from. Barcelona… a city full of painters, passionate women, flamenco guitars and tango dancers. Beautiful stucco roofs, old buildings, flourishing art all around… strong, full-bodied… just like brandy.

7) A castle in Germany. I’m a big fan of the medieval ages, and what better way bto retrace the roots of the Dark Ages than visit the land where Goths, Visigoths and Vandals once rampaged? I could spend hours learning German and then poring over ancient manuscripts hand-written by Jesuit friars.

I guess this is my list of idyllic places where I want to run away and hide from the rest of the world. One can only dream.

During the Bar Examinations (and in any other major exam, for that matter), superstitions run high among the examinees. I myself partook and observed those superstitions when I took the Bar. Let me enumerate some of them:

1) Don’t get into a romantic relationship during the Bar – for examinees of USC, we observed that guys (and girls, in particular!) who acquire girlfriends and boyfriends while reviewing for the Exam are likely to fail. The rationale is of course, that you will most likely spend time and emotional resources being in the throes of passion and love, and will not be reviewing properly.

2) Pregnancy – Surprisingly enough, we observed a trend among our USC barristers. Guys who get someone pregnant, and girls who get pregnant during the review will always pass the Bar. Always! There’s an eerie 99% ratio that backs this theory up, based on actual people I know. For instance, one of our classmates, a girl, was at the height of her pregnancy when she took the Bar. I don’t know how she managed to fit into the little armchairs of La Salle considering her belly was so big and round! A week after the last Sunday, she immediately gave birth to a beautiful baby girl. And yes, she became a lawyer, along with five other guy classmates who got girls pregnant during the review.

3) White Rabbit candies - This is a personal superstition for me. People I give White Rabbit candies to during the Bar Review end up passing the Bar. This is a very tricky superstition. First of all, you have to give the White Rabbit candies out of your own volition, meaning that the reviewee must not ask it from you. Second, you have to give the original White Rabbit candies… the white chewy kind with the edible inner wrapper, and not the hard toffee candy being sold locally. Unfortunately however, this candy is among those recently banned for import by the Philippines because of allegations of formalin content. However, the barristers need all the formalin that they can consume since it helps preserve whatever stuck-up knowledge that’s there in their heads (formalin is a chemical used for preserving and embalming corpses). So, since I wasn’t able to buy White Rabbit for this batch, I improvised by buying them Haw Haw Flakes (the “Body of Christ” red flakes of my youth). Being from China, I surmised that it had equal doses of memory-preserving formalin. The barristers loved it!

4) Red articles of clothing – I’ve never seen so many people having more birthdays than on the First Sunday of the Bar. Everybody is wearing a red t-shirt! It’s a bigger red t-shirt day than Valentines, Christmas and New Year all combined. Red is supposedly a lucky color for the Chinese. To get in on the fun (and because I’m 1/8 Chinese), I wore my lucky red t-shirt to the First and Second Sunday of the Bar. To offset, since green is also a lucky color for the Irish (I don’t have Irish blood but green is my favorite color), I wore my lucky green t-shirt during the Third and Fourth Sundays. I still wore a red article of clothing though, but it’s something that you couldn’t see in public. *blink blink*

5) Coin in your sock – This is a Perez family tradition observed every time someone takes a licensure exam, whether for Law, Accounting or Medicine. We slip a coin inside our left sock, with the coin touching the sole of your foot. It’s supposed to reduce tension in the examinee. I suppose it works because everyone I’ve told it to has passed the exam they observed this tradition on. One even went so far as to frame the lucky coin. I just hope he washed it thoroughly with soap and water.

6) Manila Zoo – This is a fun tradition started by my best friend and his barkada. Supposedly, people who go to the Manila Zoo a week before taking the exam will pass the Bar. I suppose there is some truth to it because I brought my friends Ed and Carmelle to the Manila Zoo on the last Sunday of August, and all three of us are now lawyers. I guess the rationale behind that is that it’s always good to ask the blessings of all your family members before taking the Bar. By the way, your lolo says hi.

7) Blessed pens – In USC, we have the sign pens that we used during the Bar blessed by a priest the night before the exam. I gave mine away to people taking the Bar on 2006. The ones who got one of my pens all passed.

Lawyer Snoopy – McDonald’s once gave out limited editions of Snoopy toys in various professions. On the Christmas of 2005, I knew that I was going to pass when during one mystery bunot-bunot gift at the office, I got the gift that contained Lawyer Snoopy. It was an omen. After I passed, I gave Lawyer Snoopy away to my close friend Gremz after she took the Bar Exam of 2006. She also passed. If you get Lawyer Snoopy as a gift or present, I tell you, it’s a sign!

9) Pilgrimages – Oddly enough, I wasn’t into pilgrimages that much. Oh sure, I did go to Church and did ask people to pray for me. I observed my novena to the Sto. Nino and the Mother of Perpetual Help. I went to the shrines close to my home and my school and lit candles for my petition. But I didn’t go to out of the way pilgrimages. I never went to St. Jude’s Chapel, or to the Miraculous Lady of Binan, or to any of the other holy shrines. My reason was that the same God is in every altar and shrine that you go to. He will hear you clearly whether or not you pray before Him in the pews of the school chapel or at the Church in Quiapo.

10) Prayers – Ask someone to pray for you. Ask someone to give eggs to the Carmelites in Mabolo or to the Pink Sisters in Talamban. Ask your lola to pray the rosary in your behalf. Pray to all the saints in heaven for help. Remind St. Arnold Janssen and St. Joseph Freinademetz that you’re a product of SVD education since Kinder 2 and that you need their prayers. Locate former lawyers, judges, barristers and Bar topnotchers in your line of ancestors and ask them to stand by you during the exam and whisper the answer in your ear. (Fortunately for me, I do have a lawyer, a judge, a barrister, and a Bar topnotcher in my ancestry to run to). I don’t care whether or not you are an atheist, when the time comes, prayers do indeed help.

These are the traditions I observed for the Bar. Some of them, I did with a belief that they will indeed give me spiritual intercession and good luck, and some of them I did just for kicks and fun. But all of them I observed for the sense of tradition… that many barristers before me had gone through what I did, and that by observing their tradition, I was keeping their memory and honor alive.

September 15, 2007 - It’s a slow Sunday in my hotel in Manila, and I’m still grappling from the profundity of my trip here. This is the fifth Bar Operations that I’ve done in my life. The first two were done when I was still a law student and an active of the USC Bar Operations. For both those two times, I went there as a Team Leader, directing and managing the operations of the Bar Ops for the third Sunday of the Bar. This was for the Bar Exams of 2002 and 2003 respectively.

The next three Bar Operations that I’ve attended to were already when I was a lawyer. I was in Manila twice for the Bar Exam of 2006, and finally now, it’s my fifth Bar Ops for the Bar Exam of 2007.

It is admittedly tiring and expensive work. Back when I was active in my school’s Bar Operations, third Sunday was a dreaded time slot because this was the Sunday when the barristers are at their surliest, having just faced the rigors of the past two exams, and still having to go through the fourth (which is the last).

So what exactly is Bar Operations? Simply stated, Bar Operations, or Bar Ops, is just showing up in Manila to attend to the needs of your friends, family and classmates who are taking the Bar. It can take the form of a simple flying over to Manila to cheer, wait and anticipate the taking of the barrister of the exam over at De La Salle University in Taft Avenue, Manila. Or, it can be an elaborate and well-planned affair, just like the Bar Ops of my school, the University of San Carlos.

In USC, Bar Ops is a very big and well-coordinated activity that requires funding in the hundreds of thousands to pay for expenses such as the ticket fare of a 10- to 15-man crew flying to Manila and back to Cebu, four times for the month of September; hotel rental for the said team; photocopier rental, and its related sundries, etc. etc. We house all our barristers in one hotel near La Salle every Saturday night, where they are then given last minute lectures by our professors, and given dinner for Saturday night. The barristers are treated like special guests… during my time, I was witness to many caprices. For instance, there was this barkada of lady barristers who requested 5 sheets of Manila paper during Saturday night. We were wondering about what they would do with these 5 sheets and later on found out that they used it to cover all the mirrors in their room because they didn’t like looking at their faces when they were taking the Bar. Back when I was taking the Bar, one of my friends asked a pretty Bar Ops member to give him a back and neck massage. We laughed when the girl actually complied and did give him a pretty decent rub.

I would like to elaborate more and more about the actual Bar Ops but confidentiality prevents me from doing so. USC runs one of the best Bar Ops in the Philippines, and we jealously guard our trade secrets and processes. It is one of the reasons why USC is one of the top five law schools in the Philippines, and the number one law school in the Visayas and Mindanao. How good is our Bar Ops? The training in USC Bar Ops is so good that any of its Chairmen and their executive officers could effectively run an NGO after the experience.

I guess, the mens rea of this article is to discuss the necessity of having a Bar Operations and the reasons why parents, siblings, friends, and classmates of a barrister should be in one.

I was a barrister once. I know what taking the Bar is like. The emotional strain of taking what could be the biggest exam of your life. The cumulative weight of four years and six months of hard studying, expensive costs, and heavy emotional and time investment. The six months of separation from family and friends living in an urban jungle where you don’t know anyone. Believe me, the stakes are high for each and every barrister, and you are gambling it all away in one exam… one exam where only two out of ten examinees will become lawyers. Nobody is spared in this exam, nobody. I have a friend who got a weighted average of 87 in one of the Bar Exams and should have rightfully been in the Top 5, what with grades like 98 in Remedial, and 85 in Labor. But instead, she failed the Bar Exam. Why? Because she got a grade of 49 in Political Law. Just one more point… just one more point… all she needed to get was a 50 in Political Law and she would have fronted the headlines of our country. But instead, she did not pass. She got disqualified (DQ’d)

That’s how cruel the Bar Examinations can get. One point spelled the difference between failure and glory. This my friends is the gun in the Russian roulette that all barristers are made to go through each and every time they take the Bar exams.

It is during these four Sundays of September that barristers are at the lowest ebb of their professional lives. We have just went through six months of review where we did nothing but read, read and read, trying to remember the everything that we learned during four years in law school, compressed in six months. Sometimes, even the best among us crack. The Bar is rife with tales of people who had nervous breakdowns. Last year, someone started singing and throwing tantrums in McDonald’s near La Salle, and when asked where he was from, he said he was from San Carlos. Someone brought one of our Bar Ops over thinking the man meant that he was from our school. It turns out that he is actually from San Carlos, a town in Negros Oriental.

In USC alone, there are tales of the USC barrister who went berserk a week before the Bar and wielded a knife against her fellow dorm-mates, babbling nonsense about imaginary enemies. One of my best friends in fact, almost quit the Bar Exams halfway through September, utterly convinced that he was going to fail it and that the Bar was hopeless. When he informed me of this decision, I quickly flew to Manila, bringing with me his plane ticket back home to Cebu. Fortunately, I was able to talk him out of quitting the Bar and finishing it, results and hurt feelings come what may. It turns out that contrary to what he believed in, my best friend did in fact pass and became a lawyer. Had I not flown over to Manila and given him a good bitch-slap in the head, he would not be a lawyer now.

I am trying to highlight the fact of each and every barristers’ vulnerability during the Bar. Now, more than ever, the barrister needs the support of his family, friends and school to give him the needed moral and emotional support to push him through the four Sundays of September. Believe me, moral support is NOT overrated. Contrary to what most people believe, Bar Ops is NOT about the tips of the exams, nor the last-minute lectures by teachers, or the free meals. Those are just the auxiliary concerns of the barrister. What the barrister really needs and wants is someone to show up for him or her. Someone to cry on when they feel like giving up. Someone to remind them of home and that somebody is waiting for them after the Bar is over. Someone to pamper them and cheer them

I know what it’s like because I used to be one of those barristers, and friends showed up for me to cheer me on. When I took the Bar, my friends among the third-year Law students of the then future Batch 2007 joined the school’s Bar Ops and did their best to make my Bar Exam a comfortable experience. But in particular, I would like to cite my best friend Raymond who showed up and rented a car for his other best friend’s personal use and mine. He bought us a whole bag of groceries for consumption while studying during Saturday. After the exam, he took us to Max Fried Chicken for a very comforting hot meal. And when my name was announced as one of the successful examinees, Raymond ran an ad on a local newspaper congratulating me for my success. He stood in as my representative when I took the Lawyer’s Oath.

To reiterate, a barrister needs emotional support during the Bar. More than anything, now is the time to break one’s piggy bank and fly over to Manila to give him or her your unconditional love and pampering. Now is the time that you show them how important they are in your lives.

I’ve been on a personal Bar Operations after I became a lawyer, fully intending to keep my promise to those who are close to my heart that I WILL be there for them when they take the Bar Exams. In gratitude to Raymond, when he took the Bar after me, I took frequent trips to Manila both to coach him during the review AND to see him through second and fourth Sunday of the Bar.

Now, I’m showing up for all my friends among the USC Law Barristers of Batch 2007. These are the people that I took under my wing during law school, whom I tried to be a surrogate big brother to. I promised them that I would be there for them when they take the Bar, and here I am now in Manila to fulfill that promise, with good luck candies and bookmarks in tow. In gratitude, one of the girls gave me a long and tight hug and thanked me for showing up all alone to support them during the Bar.

Yes, in all these instances, I flew in at my own personal expense. Yes, the price and cost of flying over is staggering, not to mention the time forgone that should be spent working on pleadings and contracts that are due next week. I will have to work much longer hours next week to make up for lost time.

But you could not put a price tag on friendship. I may have lost a lot of time and money coming to Manila this week, but in doing so, I have cemented my friendship with people who are worth the time and money. And that, for me, is more valuable. *Cue orchestra music playing the strains of “That’s What Friends Are For”, as cherry blossoms fall over my head while I gaze dolorously at the setting sun*

So, if you know someone who is taking the Bar or is about to take the Bar, and you value this person dearly, please… go on a personal Bar Ops. You could join your school’s own Bar Ops program, or you could do it on your own, but in any case, please be there. The barristers need you, now more than ever. They need you to pacify them when they’re feeling cranky, they need you to reassure them that they can and will indeed pass the Bar. There’s one more Sunday left before the Bar Exams of 2007 is formally over. It’s called Fourth Sunday, the best and most fun Sunday to attend to. You will see people partying on the street, some of them running through naked (I schitt thee not!), splashing the barristers with beer and champagne, playing loud music and drums. It’s a lot like the crowd waiting for marathon runners at the finish line. Would finishing the race be just as fulfilling knowing that nobody waits for you at the end? Please, if you can spare the time and the money, go and join your dearly beloved barrister.

In closing, Bar Ops is not about the tips and the notes, the last minute lectures or the spoiling of the barristers. It’s about being there when someone needs you the most. It’s about showing that you care and value someone enough that you would take the time and money to go to Manila. It’s about giving that little emotional push to catapult your barrister over the finish line. Believe me, just being there makes all the difference in the world.

And with that, I join my prayers for all the family and friends of the barristers of the Bar Exam of 2007. May they have the strength, peace and spiritual guidance to see all of these through. Good luck and God bless!