basketball

The Philippines lost to Jordan in the FIBA-Champions Cup. It was a tightly contested game and we were ranged against bigger opponents reinforced by 2 American imports.

There was a post on a message board that implied that if our team isn't good enough then we might as well give up.

I told him that if that was his attitude he wouldn't amount to anything. We do things for a lot of reasons but the best reason is that because we love it. I told him that if he was fortunate enough to witness a Philippine Team in the Olympics in his lifetime then he should spare a few seconds to look back and give thanks to those he deemed were not good enough but have blazed the trail.

I love basketball. Playing it and watching it. I can't shoot with my left hand, I don't dribble that well, my passes are often weak and telegraphed and I can't say I have much height or heft or talent. But all that doesn't matter - I just love it.

Sometimes I'm happiest when I'm playing by myself trying to beat an invisible opponent. Faking and driving the lane, spotting up for a three-point shot, going for that mid-range jumper. It's often my stress reliever.

I can pound the backboard and it doesn't hit back. I can tire myself out with seemingly impossible catch-and-shoots. I can lose myself for sometime and be back with a clearer mind, a more positive disposition. Communing with myself, with God and the ball.

"...A bird doesn't sing because it has an answer, it sings because it has a song..."

The Other Side of the Fence

I've been wondering when I'd get to tackle these thoughts. You see I've been irritated by fellow Filipinos who, having lived in America for sometime, look down on our country and our people.

You know what I'm talking about. Maybe you have that college batchmate that posts irritating stories that put down Filipinos. Or that former officemate that always malign our government. Or that relative that all too well mimics that commercial. ("Walang ganyan sa 'states").

Its so easy to get defensive when we feel we are being slighted. And I, all too human felt self-righteous. Looking at them as proud, arrogant people who think so highly of themselves and their adoptive country.

That is before i came back from Vancouver.

I remember when my brother fetched me from the airport and a jeepney cut as off the road to unload some passengers - right in the middle of the road. That's when i knew i was back in the Philippines.

And i realized that those scathing remarks that i used to hear from those "arrogant people" could have easily passed my own lips. That for the lack of knowing something better, we Filipinos have been contented and complacent with passing off rude behaviour, graft and corruption, inefficiencies and laziness as "normal".

Ok, so before someone gets angry and gets defensive I have to admit that there are still traffic violations in Vancouver. The difference is in there it is a violation of laws and is frowned upon while here it is tolerated and some even chalk it up to resourcefullness (maabilidad). To be perfectly candid, it is sad to think that when my brother and I saw someone committing a traffic violation in Vancouver we were wondering if the driver was Filipino.

So now I have to reacquaint myself with crossing the streets and riding public transportation. Where once I'd often get myself and a car to a standstill because I wouldn't cross the street even when the car was waiting for me to cross, now I have to dodge the cars. Here the pedestrian has to find his way thru the cars as the cars are all blocking the pedestrian lane.

So where am I getting at? I'm saying that there is a better way. That we shouldn't be contented by what we see and what we have become accustomed to.

If I had one wish that would have clinched a decision to migrate to Canada. It would have been if the whole Filipino population was there too.

Minus the careless drivers, gossipy talk show hosts and dirty politicians of course! :)

32

Hello world!

This is what you usually get as a first exercise in programming. It's a proclamation of existence. Of being. Of affirmation, if you will.

Someone once said that the unexamined life is not worth living. I guess its driven by our nature, our desire and need to see that our life has meaning. Or in retrospect, find meaning in our life.

I am no stranger to recording one's thoughts and experiences on paper or magnetic surface, having done so countless times and often losing them in the process. In times past I agonized at my loss but then it also dawned on me if I really want to keep a record of things. That it may be too much of dwelling in the past. In time I have consoled myself and even laughed at the thought that somehow, somewhere all of it is still there verbatim in my three pound grey matter I call a brain.

There is great consolation in the belief that nothing is ever lost. Its just somewhere else. :)

I turned 32 yesterday. Yup, I have passed the days of the calendar. Don't worry I wont ask you for a gift. Weeell, maybe one: that you look upon my words and withold judgment and criticism. Good or bad, for good or for bad, experiences are a part of you. My words are but expressions of my perceptions, my experiences, (sleep-deprivation from channel surfing), my weird thoughts.

I'd rather you read my words as if you didn't know me. Or you are getting to know me for the first time.

Hello world!