The Magnificent Atty. Perez

 Well, so okay, maybe Kris, Sharon and Dolphy are product endorsers, and I was a mere crew member, but still, we all did work for McDonald’s, in one way or another.

(Well actually, Janjan was also a product endorser, even to the point of appearing on local TV while eating a hamburger. But this was for a local Cebuano company then known as MacJoy, which recently lost to a tradename infringement by McDonald’s and is now known as “My Joy” - Ed.)

Yup, believe it or not, the Magnificent Atty. Perez used to work for McDonald’s as a service crew. He used to man the front counter and spewed out lines like, “Good morning, welcome to McDonald’s, may I have your order please?” “Would you like that for here or to go?” “Wanna have that super-sized Sir?”

I used to have burn marks running all down my arm from scraping the grease off the large metal patty fryers. I’ve been inside the frigid walk-in closets and taken out boxes of barbecue sauce for the Chicken McNuggets. I’ve manned the drive-in counter and simultaneously take the order of the person at the speaker box, while handing the change of the person making payment, as well as running to front counter and yelling expletives at the crew member who’s slow at assembling my orders. (”Shove that Quarter Pounder with no pickles in the bag, beetch and be quick about —” *headset rings, indicating another car at the speaker box* “–Oh hi, welcome to McDonald’s, this is Jan, may I take your order? Would you like to supersize your fries?”)

It’s damn hard work. You have to be on your feet for 8 hours straight, ready to clean as you go, and drop everything to assemble an order. Cash register errors were limited to only fifteen cents, no more, no less. You have to smile and be courteous to customers, even those who are obviously looking to give you a hard time. Everything had to be assembled within 20 seconds. You have to drop fries, patties and hashbrowns into the fryer when you see a sudden line forming in front of the counters. It was tiring, inane and you get paid minimum wage.

But damn, I loved every minute of the job!

The first time I worked for McDonald’s was at the Travis Road branch in Fairfield, CA (a small town within the Bay Area). I had a Filipina boss named Faye, a mostly Filipino and Latino crew, and our lunch rushes were hell! I guess I grew to love the camaraderie and team work between me and the people. We watched out for each other’s backs and stood up for one another during tough situations.

I grew close to some of the regular customers, to the point that I memorized their orders. Every morning we had the Ilocos Mafia come in (a group of Filipino senior citizens who regularly ordered coffee and English muffins with jam and butter). For lunch, there was that business executive who always ordered the American Hamburger meal and carried with him a Guitar magazine. The pretty ladies who liked to flirt and beg for a free supersize came in at lunch-time, driving all the way from Armijo High School where my cousins were enrolled at.

It was a good life. I was the best at what I did and became Employee of the Month. I was with the company for only three months but they already promoted me to Crew Trainer. During a problem situation at a sister branch, me and three of the fastest supervisors were hauled off to a nearby town where we took over their undermanned staff.

But I had to leave because I was going back home to the Philippines. Everyone was sad to see me go. Faye and James even offered to have me stay at their place if I wanted to be left behind back in the US. Through my own negligence, I was not able to keep in touch with the wonderful people there. I wonder how they all are now.

I worked for McDonald’s again during the second time I came back to the US, but this time, instead of working at California, I worked at New Jersey in a mall which was the railway station connecting to the New York subway. Probably because I worked mostly with a Caucasian crew, I didn’t enjoy my stay there as much as I did back in California. But the fact that it was still McDonald’s made my work there pretty exciting as well.

The last time I interacted with McDonald’s was only recently when we represented one of the branches here in Cebu in one of their labor cases. I was the lawyer assigned to handle the case. We successfully had the case dismissed.

I hope to be connected with McDonald’s again someday, perhaps as a franchise owner of one of its branches. For sure, if that ever happens, you will find me in the front counter, helping the crew assemble their orders and interacting with our customers. Hehehe. But McDonald’s franchises cost millions, so that just remains one of my idle dreams.

But then again, who knows? To quote one of its older campaign slogans, I would like to say: “Do You Believe in Magic?”

If ever that happens, I guarantee free ice cream sundaes to all my regular readers in WordPress with every purchase of a Happy Meal. An extra toy if you are Tinuod nga Botbot.

This is an ongoing series delving into a new-found interest in photography. The author is a novice photographer who bought his first digital SLR camera on September of 2007. Prior to that, he was a long time campus journalist who occasionally dabbled in photojournalism using a point-and-pray, eerrrr, an analog P350 point-and-click film camera. To pay for his new-found expensive hobby, the author took a day job that involves suing people, kissing ass, and drinking copious amounts of cheap instant coffee. Someday, the author will find it: the rainbow connection… the lovers, the dreamers and me.

To be honest, I’ve never planned to get into photography.

My best friend Johndi has been persuading me since our elementary years to take up the hobby together with him, and although I listened intently when he explained the whole deal to me, I’ve always declined the offer to join him in photography. Unlike Johndi, I didn’t have a father that collected SLR cameras and lenses (a Leica, a Nikon, a Canon, and some obscure Russian brand, to cite some items in his collection), and unlike Johndi, I didn’t have an allowance that could afford to buy rolls and rolls of film for taking pictures of fish, ducks, and ugly dogs. In fact, prior to my SLR, I’ve only owned two other cameras in my life, both of them the cheap kind powered by ordinary AA batteries. Hence, his offer was met with a meandering half-grin that meant I’d rather spend my meager allowance on comic books, video games and women who will just end up dumping me for being such a fugly geek.

A decade after Johndi’s repeated and rebuffed offers of entering into the nifty world of photography, my sister bought herself an almost-SLR camera and toted it around with her when she came home to Cebu for a visit. Again, she offered to let me try out her gear, but again, I wasn’t interested. In fact, I was amused when she ended up taking pictures of almost anything and everything that she could find. Food, street merchandise, funny-looking people… you name it, she probably has a picture of it locked up somewhere in her hard drive.

My reasons for NOT going into photography were numerous: it is an expensive hobby; cameras are delicate equipment; the whole process looks boring; photographers are geeks yadda yadda yadda. I just didn’t find photography worth my time and money.

And yet, for some bizarre reason, I made a split-second decision on September of this year to take up photography. It all started when my friend Danny was telling me that he wanted to buy his own SLR camera and take pictures of Batanes. Coincidentally, I happened to have a cousin who was also named Danny who had previously won a photo contest, so I volunteered to learn more about photography from my cousin and share the information with my friend. So when the opportunity arose to talk to my cousin (which was unfortunately during the wake of our aunt), I tried to glean as much as I could about the subject from the learned and experienced.

Up to now, I still don’t know why I decided to take up photography after finding out more about it from my photographer cousins.

Maybe it was from the realization that photography looked like fun. When my cousins Danny, chito, and Terry started talking about glory days of running around the streets of Cebu for the Sinulog photography contest, I started getting the sense of the adventure behind the hobby. When they discussed gears and lenses, the geek in me was challenged by the promise of science and obscure gadgets. But I think it was when they mentioned taking pictures of scantily-clad women in a relative’s beach resort in Bantayan Island, I was swayed by the promise of my own private pornographic collection taken by my very own camera.

I think THAT was the tipping point for me. Photography. Pornography. DING! A light bulb lit up in my head. Hey! The words rhyme!

Two weeks after, I started hauling a Nikon D40 all around Cebu, taking pictures of anything and everything. Doors, my neighbors, stones, flowers, trees, and animals. You name it, I have an overexposed and blurry picture of it lying somewhere in my hard-drive, right beside my precious Barely Legal collection Volumes 1 to 192. Homaygas! Mothers lock your daughters! Janjan Perez is now wielding a 6-megapixel digital camera and has a DSL connection in his house!

My life has then changed in major ways.

Not all the changes have been good, however. So far, I have summoned all the willpower I had in my system to resist the photographer’s conceit…. I have successfully avoided placing a headshot of myself looking through the viewfinder of a camera in my Multiply, Friendster, Orkut, Myspace and Facebook profiles. However, the urge to look oh so sophisticated in all my photographerish glory is growing stronger and stronger everyday. I am holding out until I can get a lens hood for my 18-55mm Nikkor… maybe it can disguise the fact that I only own the basic set.

I have also developed the photographer’s version of penis envy…. I feel inadequate holding my rinky-dinky Nikon D40 with its oh so cute kit lens right beside someone carrying a Canon Mark II with a white L-series ultraelectromagnetic super zoom lens of DOOM! To compensate, I bought myself a sturdy and long black monopod. If ever the envy is too strong to hold, I can always hit that Canonian at the back of his expensive head with the monopod and run away laughing with my practiced evil genius cackle. MOOOHOOOHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! (with matching lightning and thunder booming in the background)

And gear lust. Let us not even get into gear lust. It is taking everything in my soul to hold myself back from splurging on an 18-200mm Nikkor VR lens.

But I guess the good things outweigh the bad. All things considered, life has been a lot more interesting when seen through the viewfinder of my Nikon D40.

I’ve discovered that I enjoy capturing special moments with my DSLR. I’ve taken pictures of a child’s first birthday, capturing the pride and joy in his parents’ faces, and the mirth and excitement of children crowding around a clown handing special prizes. I covered the baptism of my best friend’s daughter, and preserved for posterity the joy glowing from the grandparents of the beautiful new Christian. I’ve captured the golden sunset upon the tide and dark sands of Dipolog’s Boulevard, the whir of mechanical gears from a cigarette factory in Pasig City, the concern and worry of the faces of police officers from ground zero of the Glorietta 2 blast site, the love permeating between a young couple watching their reflection on the man-made lake in D’ Family Park of Cebu.

And now my blog entries in Multiply, WordPress and Friendster can be peppered with my very own thousand-words-in-one-image, lending veracity and color to the written story.

But I guess the best thing for me about taking up photography is that there is now a common link binding me to certain friends and relatives, photography enthusiasts, and picture onlookers. I can enjoy discussing the merits of spot metering vs. matrix metering with Johndi, who is ecstatic that I’ve finally taken up his long-time hobby. I can look forward to a Sinulog running alongside my Ybanez cousins taking shots for the contest in Cebu. I can share my sister’s excitement in saving up to buy a Canon 5D. I can deliberate with Danny (the friend, not the cousin) on which layering technique would work best for a certain image.

The best adventures are those that are unexpected, and that has been what photography has been for me. Yes, it is an expensive hobby, but the instant gratification I feel when I capture the perfect shot is something that money cannot buy. Priceless.

For everything else, there’s Mastercard.

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.

I am writing in the stark new whiteness that is Iloilo’s international airport, arriving an hour earlier than my scheduled flight. It is 7:43 in the morning, a diffused gray light permeating through gray overcast clouds and the vents of the airport roof.

Two days earlier, I was appearing for the private complainant in a criminal case for the violation of B.P. Blg. 22, the Bouncing Checks Law. It was an interesting experience for me, one where the gentle spirit of the Ilonggo people was laid bare before the halls of justice.

Being a case for bouncing checks, my hearing was held at the Municipal Trial Court, where jurisdiction over B.P. 22 cases is lodged. There were around 20 other cases slated for hearing prior to our case’s arraignment, in various stages of hearing, from arraignment to pre-trial to full-blown trial.

I was amused to observe the proceedings of these cases. Most of these were for violations of B.P. 22, and I was surprised to see that considering the number of cases slated for hearing that day, I only saw a few lawyers. The room could barely contain the throng of people gathering outside to participate in the proceedings. The first few cases were called, and to confirm my suspicions, most if not all the party-litigants weren’t represented by legal counsel. That was weird. In Cebu, it is very uncommon for parties to appear in court without being represented by a lawyer, while here in this court, counsel represented only 1 out of every 5 cases.

The judge started the day by berating the number of people gathered before her to try their cases, for the reason that so many of the B.P. 22 cases lodged with her court had barely moved from the date of filing. Now this is surprising, notwithstanding the delay in the Philippine justice system. In my experience in Cebu, B.P. 22 cases usually were resolved within a year, or 2 years most. But it seemed like each and every case that stood before the judge had long been stuck in litigation, taking around 3 to 5 years to move from arraignment to pre-trial, which is highly unusual.

Now there can only be two reasons for this delay of so many number of cases. It was either that that particular court didn’t have a judge for the said number of years and that the judge before me was newly installed to her position. But on the other hand, it could also be that the party litigants themselves delayed the trial of the case either through neglect, lack of interest, or mutual consent to delay the case.

Judging from the ebullient rantings of that judge, I guess the situation in this court was of the latter, that the litigants themselves have not moved for the prosecution of the case. Again, I found this unusual. Usually, in Cebu, once the private complainant filed the case for B.P. 22, his lawyer’s marching orders are to hasten the proceedings for immediate collection in the case. But here in Iloilo, I was amused to find that the private complainants themselves were asking the judge to give them more time to settle the case with the accused, as if they were embarrassed to have filed the case in the first place with the court. Of course, the judge got angrier at that point and started chiding the parties in Ilonggo.

“Ti lima na ka tuig inyong settlement haw, kag way pa gihapon mo na obra nga compromise. Guin-usik-usik lang ninyo akon oras, indi na puwede! Mag-pre-trial na ta subong, kay kun dili, akon i-dismiss ang kaso!” (You have been trying to settle this case for 5 years and until now, you still haven’t worked out a compromise. You’re just wasting my time, this cannot be. We shall have pre-trial today, otherwise I will dismiss the case).

I actually pitied the accused. Had they hired a lawyer, they themselves could have moved for the dismissal of the case with prejudice, for the violation of their Constitutional right to speedy trial. 5 years is an abnormally long time to resolve a B.P. 22 case. And for what? The amounts involved in the trial were very minimal, ranging anywhere from P10,000 to P30,000.

This reveals a lot about the Ilonggo people to me, insofar as litigation is concerned. Based on this, I infer that Ilonggos are very gentle people who would avoid direct confrontation at all costs, preferring to work things out through compromise and discussion. Judging from their behavior in the courts, the party litigants seemed like they didn’t want to have to resort to litigation to enforce collection of the checks, but perhaps to show the accused that they meant business, the private complainants filed the cases anyway for collection.

In Cebu, you would have found the party litigants arguing in heated debate before the judge. Here in Iloilo, after sheepish appearance before the courts, the parties walked away shaking hands and smiling at each other. Interesting. Indeed, the Ilonggos are a warm and gentle people.

My client, a Cebuano contractor for construction projects, also pointed out something interesting about Iloilo: the buildings and their interiors were better designed than the ones in Cebu. He concluded that architects here had more say over the outcome of the building and that Ilonggos were willing to spend good money for good-looking homes and offices, much like the people in Manila. This was unlike Cebu where cost, value and functionality were more important considerations over design and aesthetics, evidenced by the admittedly drab and Spartan design of Cebuano structures. In Cebu, the contractor had bigger say over the final outcome of the construction, much more than the architects, consistent with the Cebuano mentality that “We don’t care so much about it looking fancy, just make sure the building is stable and built at low cost.”

I wish I had more time to tour around during my stay here but my time was spent at the hotel studying my cases and working on pending pleadings. I would have wanted to visit the old houses and churches that the Ilonggos are known for. At least I got to meet up with old friends and sample some of the tasty Ilonggo cuisine. The batchoy and the inasal nga manok was superb. I also got to see that contrary to what I expected, Iloilo was actually quite urbane. I was expecting something like Tagbilaran or Dipolog, a city that still looks like a town.

Well… they’re calling my flight back home to Cebu. Thus ends my first ever trip to the land of batchoy, Dinagyang, beautiful buildings and gentle people. It was an interesting trip, but nevertheless, it would be good to go back home.

I am rousing myself from my self-imposed intellectual slumber to take part in a movement around the world calling one and all to care about the environment. It’s a movement called Blog Action Day, where bloggers like me are endeavored to raise ecological awareness.

As a Filipino living in the second most heavily-populated metropolis in the country, my ecological concern is about sanitation and garbage management, one of the biggest offshoots and problems arising from the rise of urban living.

As children, we were brought up to believe that “Cleanliness is next to godliness.” And although I was not the tidiest and most fastidious child in the planet, I was however very conscientious about putting my trash straight into the garbage can. It makes sense. We cannot abide clutter in our houses, right? We don’t like to see torn plastic packets, dust, fallen leaves, refuse, bottles, and food wastes lying around where rats, cockroaches and other vermin may scurry about and infest our well-kept homes and tidied apartments.

What doesn’t make sense to me is why our cleanliness and sanitation practices are left behind when we leave our houses. We are supposed to be a well-educated and highly-disciplined nation, and yet, when we go outside, it’s a common sight to see people throwing their waste and refuse just about anywhere. Back when I was still a student, I was distressed to see my fellow schoolmates throwing their barbecue sticks, puso wrappers, and candy packets on the floor, not caring enough to find a nearby trash can to throw their wastes.

I wish the practice stopped as I got older where people are supposed to be more mature and disciplined, but I fear that the older people get, the more callous they were of their surroundings. In fact, I often witnessed one of my classmates in law school, a professional, repeatedly throwing his candy wrappers inside our own classroom, when a garbage can was only a few meters away from where he was eating. I wanted so much to point out to him that this practice was offensive to me because I shared a classroom with him and as students of a prestigious university, a higher caliber of discipline and cleanliness is expected of us. I don’t know which is more disturbing to me, the fact that my highly educated classmate could callously live like a pig or the fact that I who knew better could not bring myself to scold him about his littering in the premises.

The fact is that our littering must stop. It’s the cause of so much of our problems as urban dwellers. Indiscriminate littering has clogged up our sewers and esteros so that come rainy season, we find our streets flooded with dirty rain water and the ghosts of our unsanitary practices coming back to haunt us. Our littering is then washed up to the rivers and seas, causing the pollution of our waters and the poisoning of our precious reefs and fishes.

But even these serious ecological problems aside, doesn’t the sight of trash and refuse disturb anyone anymore? I’ve had the privilege of living in great urban metropolises abroad, from Los Angeles, to San Francisco, to New Jersey and New York. I’ve been to Hong Kong and Toronto and seen cities that are much more heavily populated than Cebu or Manila, and yet walking along their busy causeways and streets, you would find nary a candy wrapper, biscuit packet, or broken bottle lying for all to see or walk on. In fact, it would be very rare to find ANYONE throwing their trash and refuse just about anywhere on the street.

The fact is, ladies and gentlemen, we Filipinos are PIGS. Our sanitation and littering practices are atrocious. Whether you’re walking along the highly urban streets of Ayala Ave. in Makati City or the sub-urban paths along Cardinal Rosales Ave. in Cebu City, you’re likely to find trash, refuse and the leavings of insensitive urban dwellers so callously left behind on our public streets and avenues.

In fact, one little anecdote sticks to my mind pointing out how unhygienic we Filipinos are. During my first time in the U.S., my American uncle treated the whole family out to a snack at MacDonald’s. I was the first to finish eating, and like most Filipinos, I just left my burger wrapper and plastic cup on my tray, lying on the table for the MacDonald’s busboy to clean up. My uncle called my attention and pointed out that in the U.S., after the customers finish eating, it was expected of them to put their own litter in the trashcan. And true to form, I saw the American patrons cleaning up after themselves, leaving the table ready for the next customer to use them.

We Filipinos pride ourselves in being thoughtful, educated and cultured as a race, and yet, why can’t we emulate something as simple and efficient as that? It’s just a simple matter of cleaning up after ourselves.

Whenever I confront the notorious litterers among my friends, they always give me the excuse, “Well, what are we paying the janitor for then?” Having a janitor or a busboy or a metro-aide to clean up after you is no excuse for us to practice good sanitation and hygiene in our premises, regardless of whether it is in the comfort of our own homes or in public areas of common use. The fact is that as supposedly highly-educated people, we owe it to ourselves to be responsible of where we throw our garbage.

As urban dwellers, you and I are no longer carefree citizens whose domain stops at the perimeter of our fences. We are very closely inter-connected that the practices of one will have a domino effect on the life of another. Every time you play your music too loud, or callously throw your refuse on the street, or even breathe out your cigarette smoke where other people breathe, you are already polluting the environment and affecting the people who live in the city with you.

We all have to be responsible because we do not live in a vacuum where we alone are affected by our own actions. The misdeeds of callousness of one can lead to the degradation of the quality of life of another.

I still believe that cleanliness is next to godliness and we Filipinos, who profess ourselves to be the only dominantly-Christian country in Asia, owe it to ourselves to reflect the Christ within us by living clean and pure even in the most little of practices.

Please… help ease our country’s garbage management problems by simply putting your garbage where it belongs… inside a trashcan. It’s really just as simple as that.

BLOG ACTION DAY

http://blogactionday.org/

On October 15th, bloggers around the web will unite to put a single important issue on everyone’s mind - the environment. Every blogger will post about the environment in their own way and relating to their own topic. Our aim is to get everyone talking towards a better future.

Blog Action Day is about MASS participation. That means we need you! Here are 3 ways to participate:

• Post on your blog relating to the environment on Blog Action Day
• Donate your day’s earnings to an environmental charity
• Promote Blog Action Day around the web

Compared to Manila lawyers, Cebuano lawyers make a fraction of the amount that lawyers based in our nation’s capital earn.

However.

You can’t beat the perks of practicing in Cebu, such as being thrown off to hearings in far-flung rural areas, especially if it’s a seaside one. Yes folks, I’m talking about the opportunity of getting to sleep with bit–, errr, I mean, getting to sleep at beaches.

Today is September 28, 2007, and yours truly, the Magnificent Atty. Perez, is having a quiet Friday morning by the poolside of Marcosas Cottage, owned by the gracious Spouses Herzenstiel, Michael and Marcosa, who are both clients of the firm that I represent. Normally, I try to avoid talking about my clients to respect their privacy, but considering that I am *cough cough* a minor Internet celebrity and in the interests of promoting the tourism industry of my beloved Cebu, I am humbly lending the gravity of my esteemed munificence (somewhere in the world, one of my bestfriends is gagging) in order to bring to fore the beauty of Moalboal and the warmth of Marcosas Cottages. Of course, this is written with the blessings and permission of Herr Michael.

For the record, I am not a Boracay type of tourist. The weight of my Magnificence is such that it must be used responsibly and not flaunted so openly in public, as the very sight of my very superstardom is known to cause sudden heart palpitations, the inexplicable urge to worship the ground that I walk on, and the acute need to burst into the dancing and singing of musical scores of love and adoration. (If I only had a dollar every time someone serenaded me with “In my life, he has burst like the music of angels, the light of the sun….”, I would probably already have… hmm… ten centavos.) Hence being the selfless and humble soul that I am, (I hear the Pope is still mulling over my application for living sainthood), I have instead made it a point to have my vacations over at out-of-the-way areas that nobody has ever heard about, much less frequent. I guess I just prefer having my peace and quiet.

At any rate, I have already spent 2 paragraphs on self-aggrandizement and senseless exposition, so I better go ahead to promoting my clients’ resort while my bispren DK has not yet thrown a rock at my direction.

Marcosas Cottages is a charming little out-of-the-way resort villa located in the town of Moalboal, located at the southern part of Cebu. It’s a true mom-and-pop operation run and operated by the smiling and friendly staff employed by Michael and Marcosas Herzenstiel. I guess this is what my friend Tina would call a “boutique resort”, or a “bed-and-breakfast,” or simply, something that’s too small to compete with the likes of top-notch beach resorts, without the modern and up-scale amenities offered by the latter.

But then again, not everybody can afford going to top-notch beach resorts. Or for that matter, even if they could afford to go to a top-notch beach resort, not everybody would want to go one. It could be filled with so many strangers, or it’s too loud, or there are too many events scheduled which detracts from the sense of “getting away from it all.”

The charm of Marcosas Cottages is that it is the anti-commercialized beach resort. The operation is being actively run by the owners themselves, and in fact, if you drop by over at the bar for a nightcap, you will find Michael himself mixing your drinks and engaging you in conversation over a cool bottle of San Miguel Pale Pilsen. (My favorite question to ask him has always been, “How does Filipino beer compare to German lagers?” The answer: It’s so light and refreshing, it’s like drinking mineral water.)

Forget about the plastic smiles and forced friendliness of big resorts, the staff here is made up of local and winsome barrio lasses who give you genuine mirth and warmth behind their smiles. The food here is delicious and has all the comforts of home cooking, but with a twist. Since the owner is German, the resort features meals that a Deutsch hausfrau would be serving back in the motherland. Just last night, a decade of juvenile green jokes were shattered as I ordered a weiner schnitzel and discovered to my disillusion that the dish is actually just a plain old breaded porkchop. Oh well. Damn good porkchop though.

(And to my good friend Muerte from high school, let me just say that our friend who roleplays the Cavalier Aurelius Stark could not therefore suck your schnitzel no matter how many times you goad him, on account of the medical impossibility of the act. The breadcrumbs would stick to his teeth. Ich gut, ya? Ya?)

Owing to the fact that the resort is small, you can expect more attention and a more personalized service. But if you are expecting some kind of Disneyland or Boracay level of fun, this is not the place to go. The only attractions that the resort has are its swimming pool and massage sauna. Other than that, this is just somewhere to go if you want to get away from it all, without sacrificing personal amenities like cable TV (the rooms also have their own DVD players), good airconditioning (you can choose between the powerful airconditioner and/or the ceiling fan, or both), clean and beautiful-looking rooms (check out my pictures), hot and cold showers.

If you really feel like going on an adventure, the resort is only a 3-minute walk away from a diving shop (Blue Abyss), a 5-minute walk from a public beach. If fresh water and waterfalls are more of your thing, for a small fee, you could charter the resort’s van and have it transport you to the nearby Kawasan Falls for a cool dip.

Moalboal is more known as a diving spot though, as it is found near one of the reefs outlying Cebu. There are numerous diving shops nearby where you could charter boat trips or rent diving equipment. The one I mentioned, Blue Abyss, is run by a German national who has decided to settle down here in the Philippines.

Curiously, I am the only Filipino guest in Marcosas. All the other guests are German. I just learned last night that Michael is affiliated with a diving club in Germany whose members make periodic trips to the Philippines. That’s not a big deal for me since Germans are okay by my book. They keep to themselves and don’t put on any airs unlike some other tourists who think their culture and gene pool is God’s gift to the rest of the heathen and uncivilized world. And judging from the reception given by the staff of Marcosas, the Germans are good and friendly guests as well.

Although I wouldn’t outright say that the rates are cheap, I could honestly say that the price of both the lodging and the food is reasonable and worth its price in value-added service and attention to detail. Room rates range from P1,450 to P2,000 a night, with in-house provisions like tea, coffee, snacks and the like charged surprisingly at retail prices. Food prices ranges somewhere from around P100 to P300, depending on the item ordered, which is not bad, if you think about it.

Well, I guess if you’re up for the adventure, I’ll be seeing you at Marcosas Cottage every now and then. Till next time, guten tag!

Homeygas!!! I can’t bilib it!! I’VE NEVER POSTED A LAWYER JOKE IN MY BLAWG!!!!

I must rectify that situation at once!

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Lawyer Joke #1: The Idealistic New Lawyer

There was once this idealistic, young, good-looking and magnificent new lawyer that recently passed the Bar and he was offered to join this large law firm, because he had so much magnificent potential.

So the law firm made him all the fancy offers… a new car, a million peso acceptance bonus, a condominium in Makati… yadda yadda yadda.

But the lawyer was so idealistic that he told the firm: “Thank you for your offers but I must know… what is your firm’s policy on pro bono cases?”

The firm partners looked very serious and asked the new lawyer for some time to discuss the matter.

The partners got together in a huddle and debated and argued and discussed the matter. After an hour of this, one of the partners finally could take it no longer and approached the young lawyer.

He said: “Uhm… what’s pro bono?”

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Lawyer Joke #2: Say Cheese!

When taking a lawyer’s picture, what is the one word that a photographer can say to make the lawyer smile?

“Okay Attorney, say “FEES!”

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Lawyer Joke #3: How to Save a Lawyer

QUESTION: What is the best way to save a drowning lawyer?

ANSWER: Take your foot off his head.

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Lawyer Joke #4: The Devil’s Advocate

The Devil once visited the Magnificent Atty. Perez’s office to make him an offer.

Our brilliant young lawyer, very much shocked, could only stand up and scream, “HOMEYGAS!! Speaker of the House De Venecia!!! What are you doing in my office??? I swear, my internet connection is legal!!! I did not pirate my broadband connection from my Chinese client!!”

To which the Devil laughed and said, “Oh shush, I am not Speaker De Venecia… I am only the Devil. Now listen up. I can arrange some things for you.”

The Magnificent Atty. Perez sat down and pressed his stopwatch, so that he could bill the Devil.

The Devil continued, “I’ll make you the richest and most handsome lawyer in the Philippines. Your partners will all be Erap, Marcos and Arroyo cronies. People everywhere will fear your power and your prowess in court. You’ll have four months of vacation each year and live to be a hundred. You will be so sexy and popular that sex-film starlets will pay you money just to have you visit their bed. You will no longer be a minor internet celebrity but instead, your blawg will be so popular that you will need your own lease line and dedicated server to handle all the traffic” And then the Devil paused.

The Magnificent Atty. Perez was interested and listened more. He glanced at the Devil’s shoes and was surprised to find that the Devil did indeed wear Prada.

The Devil finally concluded, “In exchange for all this, Atty. Perez, I will…” then the Devil leaned forward and whispered to the handsome young lawyer’s ears.

The Magnificent Atty. Perez was shocked, amazed and stood up, yelling.

“IN RETURN FOR WEALTH, FAME, POWER AND PRESTIGE YOU WANT ME TO SELL THE ETERNAL SOULS OF MY WIFE, MY CHILDREN, MY CHILDREN’S CHILDREN, THEIR YAYAS AND THAT OF THE FAMILY DOG????? ARE YOU KIDDING ME?????”

Then the Magnificent Atty. Perez leaned forward and asked the Devil,

“What’s the catch?”

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Lawyer Joke #5: Criminal Law Tips

When I was in Manila last week, I helped my fellow graduates from Harvard University by giving them our Pink Tips, which all the other law schools and universities are fighting for. Since it was criminal law, I predicted one question and put it in the Harvard Notes. Sure enough, the question was asked by the Criminal Law examiner in Item No. 11 of last Sunday’s exam.

The situation was, “R was married to Y, who was a Turkish citizen. Y had a fight with R, who had to fly over to the Philippines to be comforted by her mother A, who was a Cebuana, and her father E, who was not. Y flew over to the Philippines to say that he was sorry to R, who blew off his invitation to bring their family on a beach abroad. R said that she would rather go to Boracay or to Hadsan. Y got insulted and took the family cat hostage with him to Turkey.”

Item No. 1 then asks, “What is a criminal lawyer. Please define.”

The Harvard Notes suggested answer: “A criminal lawyer? That’s redundant.”

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Lawyer Joke #6: Prized Possession

The Magnificent Atty. Perez was driving his big Ferrari Testarossa down the highway, singing to himself, “Lalalala… I love my Testarossa. Lalalalala…. I love my Testarossa.”

Focusing on his car, not his driving, the Magnificent Atty. Perez smashed into a balete tree. He walked out, with bloody bruises on his face, his body hurting all over, and with his nose broken and mangled beyond repair. Then he stopped to assess the damage.

“My Ferarri Testarossa!!!!!!!!!!!!! NOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!” he screamed in sorrow.

Surprisingly one of the loyal fans of his blawg drove by and cried out, “Oh no!!! Magnificent Atty. Perez!!! You’re bleeding! We have to take you to the hospital and… HOMAYGAS!!!! WHAT HAPPENED TO YOUR LEFT ARM??? IT’S GONE!!!!”

The Magnificent Atty. Perez, horrified, looked at the stump of his left arm and screamed. “MY ROLEX!!!! NOOOOOO!!!!!!”

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Lawyer Joke #8: Victory!

One day, a magnificent young lawyer was in Dipolog defending a criminal case in favor of the accused. He fought with such verve, passion and expertise that the judge found the case to his favor and acquitted the lawyer’s client.

The magnificent young lawyer’s boss subsequently sent him a text message asking, “So, how was the case?”

Feeling pleased with himself and his great victory, the magnificent young lawyer txt’ed back and replied, “Justice triumphed.”

His boss called him up and said, “APPEAL IMMEDIATELY!!!”