Thursday, July 31, 2008
Debtless
Borrow is not a Harrow
Ironing out the Financial Crease
Wednesday, July 30, 2008
Money in a Jiffy
Life is What You Make It
It's More of a Win-Win Situation
Wheeling on Your Own
Tuesday, July 29, 2008
When Push Comes to a Shove
Achilles' Plastic Heels
Home and Mortgage Loans
The Philippine Expeditionary Force to Korea
If you want to hear firsthand accounts from a Korea War veteran, give this a click. I think your time will be better spent reading that than poring over the hottest male and female Korean stars.
By the way, have you ever wondered why a Filipino would wear this kind of clothing?
(image taken from a 500-peso bill)
Monday, July 28, 2008
Unsung Filipino Heroes of Korean War
MANILA, Philippines--On June 25, 1950, war broke out between the northern and southern parts of the Korean peninsula.
While the battle did not affect any part of the Philippines, the country sent 7,000 Filipino soldiers to fight on the side of the South Koreans.
They were the first foreign troops from Asia to come to Seoul's aid, next to the United States and United Kingdom.
The Filipino soldiers--though not individually named in local history books--were considered among the best fighters who stood by the South Koreans during the war.
One of them, Maximo Young, an 86-year-old retired major, was a member of the 10th Battalion Combat Team (BCT) and among the first batch of 1,400 Filipino troopers sent to Korea. They were also the first to see overseas combat since World War I.
Young said that while the North Koreans were known as "hard fighters," the Filipinos were just as well-trained, disciplined and experienced, having been exposed to guerrilla fighting from facing the Japanese and the Hukbalahap.
Between October to November 1950, the members of the 10th BCT crossed the 38th parallel which separated the North from South Korea. They were there to secure the town of Syngue.
Along the way, the Filipinos were ambushed by a North Korean battalion at the town of Miudong. "We were attacked from higher ground. Our infantry was pinned to the ground," said Young.
During the critical situation, Young, who was commanding one of the tanks, immediately launched a counterattack.
He said he remembered opening the turret hatch, swinging the .50 caliber turret machine gun toward the enemies and firing away, sending many North Koreans scampering out of their foxholes to seek more secure positions.
His action inspired the other members of the battalion to mount a rally. The victory at Miudong was the first battle won by Filipino troops in a foreign land.
Koreans, in gratitude to the soldiers who fought alongside them, encourage them to visit the country, shouldering most of their expenses.
"The Koreans have never forgotten us," said Young.
He added, however, that the most touching gesture of gratitude he experienced was made by a young Korean who sat beside him during an event.
Young said that when he introduced himself as a Korean war veteran, the youngster respectfully took his hand and placed it on his forehead--much like the Filipino tradition of "mano po."
"Had it not been for these soldiers, we would have been enslaved," the youngster said his father had told him.
To read the unabridged article, please visit:
newsinfo.inquirer.net
Sunday, July 27, 2008
Farewell to My Fave: Sung Si Kyung's Here in My Heart Album
Sung Si Kyung joins the list of stars releasing a new album before enlisting for mandatory military service. Hailed as the "King of Ballad" since his debut in 2000, Sung has maintained solid popularity with a string of hits like Miso chonsa ("Smiling Angel"), Neon Kamdongi eosseo ("You Touched My Heart"), GeoriESeo ("On The Street"), and Han bun deo yi byeol ("Another Goodbye"). While touring across the country over the past year, Sung immersed himself in deep introspection, searching for the identity of a true musician. Now, carrying a new sense of maturity and appreciation for his music and his fans, the singer releases his much-awaited sixth album Here In My Heart.
Written in collaboration with Yoo Hee Yeol (a.k.a. Toy), the principal track An nyeong na euh sarang ("Goodbye, My Love" - Track 4) bears sadness beneath the upbeat melody. As if making his personal farewell, the song rolls out heartfelt lyrics like "this could be my last gift to you" and "it'll be okay, goodbye my love". In addition, the titular song Here In My Heart (Track 1) is a modern folk ballad written by Yoo. Besides Sung's own creative contribution, many noteworthy talents also participated in the making, namely, Kim Hyun Cheol, Kim Kwang Jin, Noh Young Shim, Hwang Sae Joon, and Lee Seong Hwan. Other highlights include pop ballad Noon bu shin go baek ("Luminous Confession" - Track 8) and pop oldie Geu dae wah choom eul ("Dance With You" - Track 6).
Track List:
01 여기 내 맘속에 (Yogi Ne Mamsoge)
02 어디에도 (Odi-ye do)
03 더 아름다워져 (Doh Areumdawochyo)
04 안녕 나의 사랑 (Annyeong Na-e Sarang)
05 잃어버린 것들 (Iroborin)
06 그대와 춤을 (Gu-dewa Chumeul)
07 Baby You Are Beautiful
08 눈부신 고백 (Nunbushin Gobek)
09 사랑하는 일 (Saranghaneun Il)
10 소풍 (Sopung)
11 당신은 참.. (Dangshineun Cham)
Thanks to ambershinbi.
Saturday, July 26, 2008
Spring Roadtrip
Today, Kevin brought us to Daecheong Dam Park. It is a dam, surprise.
But damn! The cherry blossoms--in full bloom, lining the pedestrian, gracing the lifeless gray roads, falling like pink snow on our heads--were such creations to behold!
Here is our party: The guy with a pink inner wear is Jinhyeong, my 1st semester Korean buddy;
Tanya, my most beautiful co-scholar from the Philippines;
and Freda (Singapore) and Kenneth (Malaysia), my barkada in those times.
What I like about parks in Korea is that they are never boring, even if you go there without a girlfriend or a boyfriend. Daecheong Dam is just one of the few educational parks where visitors can get to know how hydroelectric power is generated by strong water currents and a turbine. This park also has a museum that showcases miniature setup of a hydroelectric plant, live aquatic organisms that thrive well within the operating perimeters of the dam, and information boards on how there should be very minimal footprints of development on ecology.
This day was really a walk to remember for the six of us. Driving back, I bid farewell to the cherry blossoms whose life is transitory, as it was beautiful, as my 10-month stay in Korea.
Friday, July 25, 2008
Ewwphony of the Night
This room was unlike what I've seen before. We don't have a singing room with an interior like this in the Philippines. I thought it was uniquely Korean.
Alas, inside the sound-proof walls of the Noraebang I sang like I have never sung before. It was a wild night! And I am not showing the photos!
1 hour later, the ajjoshi (mister) entered the room to announce a "free service". Koreans broadly use the word "service" to mean freebies, extras, and discounts. The mister was kind enough to give us 20 more cacophonous minutes for free. But we were kinda worried about the curfew actually; the dorm closes at 11pm and we started walking back at 10:30. The dorm is 20 minutes away from the Noraebang by foot if we walk leisurely.
"Horeb, gwenchana", says YeongHun. I asked him what "gwenchana" means. He said that Koreans say gwenchana to mean "It's okay. Don't worry." YeongHun told me that the dorm administrator would let us in because they're friends. haha.
Ooh. I learned three Korean words today, aside from discovering my hidden talent worth hiding: noraebang, so-bi-su (service), and gwenchana. ^^; The boon of informal learning begins here.
We made it to the dorm on time, yearning to go back again to the Noraebang.
Thursday, July 24, 2008
And the Atomic Bomber Award Goes to...
Hydrogen Bomber - Crissy's Heaven
TNT Bomber - Big Boys Have Toys Too
Thank you very much for much EC drops!
As promised, the winners will receive the top 3 most picturesque shot I have of Mt. Geumgang in North Korea. ^^;
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EC DROPPING CONTEST ROUND II
Luftwaffe Droppers be ready. Winners will be announced on August 22. He or she will receive the best photo of Mt. Sorak in South Korea.
Wednesday, July 23, 2008
The Chronicles of the Northern Kimchi 3 of ~
After dinner and a short dabble in the East Sea, we prepared for our 3-kilometer walk towards a high-school near the 38th parallel. The place where we are now is the most proximate town to North Korea. (Unfortunately, I cannot remember the name; I hope I would dream of it since I always dream lucidly). We were chanting "dongil-euro", which means "towards unification" while walking under the pouring rain, side by side with fired-up Daejeon University students. It was good that we were provided with raincoats that we used for this march and for hiking Mt. Geumgang. This raincoat is one of my valuable possessions since it has been rained upon both in the South and North. I am keeping it safe in my drawer.
Anyhow, upon reaching the high school, we watched an on-stage performance of Daejeon University students. There were things of sorts and wacky stunts that I've never really seen anywhere: head-smashing a huge watermelon, a drama that I really didn't understand, thanks to my diligence studying Korean, and a tribute of happy (and some lugubrious) parents who are really proud of their children who are participating in this reunification march.
But what struck me most was the rubberband stunt performed by two male Daejeon University students where they both wore five huge rubberbands encircling their bodies, walked apart from each other till the rubberbands snap off, flinching their backs and tummies. Ouch, ouch! I'm so sorry for them. And I'm also sorry for the two famous rappers who took the stage and brought the house down though it was raining like hiking the next day would be impossible.
The Chronicles of the Northern Kimchi 1 of ~
The Chronicles of the Northern Kimchi 2 of ~
Monday, July 21, 2008
Just another "F" Word
Our lives are bound to a lot of farewells. But this fact is just so unforgiving that most of us have never really learned to come to terms with it. Tomorrow you might be hearing the "F" word. And you could very well respond with yet another "F" word.
Today was Sir Philip Kim's last day in Duzon. His resignation was unwelcome, as it was unexpected, for those who love him. But for those who don't, well, I won't give a damn writing about what they could have felt. When I was a terrorized newbie in Duzon, Sir Philip became my reassurance that there is Good--as there is Bad--in any 'race'. To Team Rio, he was more than just a competent class manager; he was a friend, a good adviser, he was loved than feared. To others, Sir Philip could just be a source of abundant laman-tiyan. He won't mind. For so long as you'll be eating pichi-pichi, so long as you'll be passing by Amber, his name would just become more indelibly written on your memory. Philip. Pichi. Philip. Pichi.
Amber.
The Girl and His Cat
It was the warmest, most feline hug I have ever seen in my life. I almost felt it myself when the Cat hugged the Girl. They were always together, not wavering in their love for each other. Wherever the Girl goes, she brings with her the Cat. I saw them blithely playing on top of a small green hill where an old catholic chapel and a playground stand. They were enjoying under the summer sky and the light, crisp wind from the East when the dogs arrived. The dogs ran after the Cat. But the Girl lifted the Cat up to her bosom and the Cat clung to her like a vulnerable human soul. The girl scared the dogs away and warned them not to harm her Cat ever again.
The Cat thought: "Why do I feel such connection with this Girl? I cannot remember...Why? ..."But try as she may, she cannot put to rest the mysterious feeling. The Girl, too, thought about the affection she holds towards the cat. She couldn't figure the whyness of it all either.
But Fate knows.
The Girl had a friend who died not so long ago...
Sunday, July 20, 2008
Mine the Free Stuff
My Life Verse
Dear Lord, teach me to understand the timing of Your great will...
A Time for Everything
Book of Ecclesiastes
1 There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens:
2 a time to be born and a time to die, a time to plant and a time to uproot,
3 a time to kill and a time to heal, a time to tear down and a time to build,
4 a time to weep and a time to laugh, a time to mourn and a time to dance,
5 a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them, a time to embrace and a time to refrain,
6 a time to search and a time to give up, a time to keep and a time to throw away,
7 a time to tear and a time to mend, a time to be silent and a time to speak,
8 a time to love and a time to hate, a time for war and a time for peace.
Ride Money Carpet
Can You Catch a Fly with a Pair of Chopsticks?
There is a Chinese saying that if you can catch a fly using a chopstick, you could do anything. And I cannot pick even a chunk of radish using those two metal rodlets. T__T So I browsed the net on how to properly hold a pair of chopsticks when I stumbled upon PuNiaoPuNiao blog. She is Chinese, obviously, and her blogs are about things Chinese and Japanese. I think her blog is also a money-making one. Though there never really is a reference on using chopsticks properly, I think this site was helpful to practice some Hanja characters I know. The layout of this site is quite good, not cluttered, simple—just like the Chinese. I also adore the banner message:
Chopsticks: A delicate hand and a patient mind will ultimately nourish your soul.
Saturday, July 19, 2008
Haiku Mum
The Ultimate Blog Bloom Tag
I got tagged by Ms. Betchay and this time it is not one, but two tags:
The Ultimate blog bloom Tag!
This tag will give you 2 techie points per successful tag. The rules are:
1. Copy and paste the URLs (ALL OF THEM!) on the list and add them to your blogroll (this gives your buddy one techie point)
2. Add your name according to the alphabetical sequence of the list
3. link your webbie to your name in the list (the second techie point opportunity)
4. add your URL next to the linked name…
5. Voila! just do this, tag as many as you can and wait until your techiepoints grow exponentially! Don’t forget to linkback… in your case link back to JoanJoyce.
THE ULTIMATE BLOG BLOOM LIST
Apt 1014Life in Korea
JoanJoyce
Mckhoii
Nursemagic
Everything Kimchi
The Double Tag
RULE: What you are supposed to do… and please don’t spoil the fun… Click copy/paste, delete my answers, type in your answers and tag 4 people in your lists!
(A) Four places I go over and over:
Chonggyecheon Stream, Milgiore, Namsan Tower, Daejeon University Library
(B) Four people who e-mail me regularly:
Multiply, ASEAN scholars, Hannah, UPLB CCC
(C) Four of my favorite places to eat:
TGIFridays, Sbarro, Pizza Hut, mah own house
(D) Four places I’d rather be:
Daejeon, South Korea. Coron, Palawan. Saturn. Neptune.
(E) Four people we think will respond:
Elliot, Cher, Eden, Chris
(F) Four TV shows we could watch over and over:
Grey’s Anatomy, Friends, Lee Sun Shin, All About Eve (Jang Dong Gun and Chae Rim)
I’m tagging:
Cher, Eden, Chris
Girl for All Status
The Super Goddess Crissy's Heaven Ms. Liz a Simple Life Ms. SolLee
Silent Sage
Friday, July 18, 2008
My Psychotic Heart
It is very difficult to harbor Mutual Love, especially if you're not sure that the other person shares the same feeling. ML is a psychotic hallucination of the heart, a mirage that you'd like to capture only to find out at the end that it indeed is a mirage--nothing more, nothing less.
전 진짜 미친다! T__T
The Green & Leafy Blog
I am really amazed at how the Internet is being used for desirable ends. Information is power, and easy and free access to it can guarantee a net benefit for society. I happen to stumble upon Nisha’s blog, which is about Pregnancy and parenting, childbirth, parenting and women and child issues. One can find here healthy recipes that anyone might just enjoy, especially the kids. Topics range from not-so-commonplace to ethically contestable: Parenting issues like MJ’s bad parenting was blogged about, why sex determination in India is banned by law, and children’s rhymes and songs are some of the niceties that you can find in this blog. Layout-wise, Nisha’s “motherhood” blog also offers a refreshing place to lounge at, especially with the fresh green theme color that signifies new life.
Thursday, July 17, 2008
Catching Up is Hard to Do
지금부터 전 한국어 문법을 배우려고 해요. 저에게 도음을 줄까여? ^^;
엘리엇 씨, 빨리 따라가세요.
Wednesday, July 16, 2008
Aliens in the Outfield and Tesla's Death Ray
There were aliens invading the planet and they almost got away with it. These aliens donned very attractive human skin and they paraded to be kind and all. Add to that, these aliens also participated in humanitarian activities that they were able to gain the trust of the community. Eventually, this coterie of extra terrestrial phonies were able to capture the reins of government. They were benign at first.
But in the parliament is where terror began. These aliens tried to eliminate mankind by planting on the ground pulsating embryonic-red alienific spheres that when activated would fire to the sky concentric red circles that vaporate everything under them. I saw men and women writhing in pain--think of worms sprinkled with salt--and turning gaseous in 5 seconds. There were only a few remaining humans. Living among them were oust-the-aliens independence fighters. The leader was a woman. I cannot remember the details fully but I am sure that she seduced the leader of these aliens while the freedom fighters deactivate the alienific spheres.
Love eventually conquered all and the aliens were defeated using the same nefarious technology that literally befell the human race.
Yet another lucid dream.
Meaning in Minutes
Reading is my favorite pastime. I regard it as a virtual journey that could take me to places that I can only dream of going. I am not really particular about the source of the text—may it be a lap-shattering microbiology book that takes me deep to the cellular level, a newspaper that I fold into a pamaypay eventually, or a friend's blog—they all help to make the most out of my time. Liane Schmidt’s blog, Make the Most of Your Time, is a collection of inspirational advices, motivational posts, reflective entries, and basically things about the rationality of emotions. She also posts song lyrics coupled with videos from youtube—songs that can touch your sensibility to appreciate small but wonderful things in life. She also writes about her personal travels but she never misses to introspect a bit about how her comings and goings make her a better person at the end of the day. Perhaps not only the readers could make the most of their time in this blog, but also the blogger herself.
Cyberest
There is something warm about the layout of this blog. Perhaps it’s the peach-colored theme that makes it very homey. Or it could just be the blog’s title: My Resting Place. I was intrigued by the philosophy behind the name of this blog. Unlike perhaps 8 out of 10 blogs that appear not to be resting places for the blog’s owners or the blog’s readers, this blog is different, though the content's theme is shared with other bloggers. The owner recognizes that this web space is a place for her to vaporize whatever is in her head; this could be relaxing for her, if not at all cathartic. This blog is about family, health, fitness, and random thoughts. You can also read her intimate stories in this blog, a perfect lounge for those who’d like to take a scoop of other people’s eventful lives. There are also pictures peppered all over, which make this site more interesting. Visit Now princessa and king’s blog’spot. ^^;
Tuesday, July 15, 2008
The Chronicles of the Northern Kimchi 2 of ~
Just a few minutes away from this landmark is North Korea. A field of ecstatic tension filled the bus and my insides were churning from the thought of communism. It never occurred to me that this abstraction could actually produce a psychosomatic discomfort. "What could the experience of crossing the 38th parallel be like", I asked myself. I'm sure that there's much more to this than just landing both my shoes on North Korean soil (and I have to keep those shoes after they've been worn out). I felt an unwelcome surge of guilt when, for a brief moment, I had escaped from my self-induced hypnosis--how come that I've really never felt strongly about walking on historical places in my country? I thought I should be more grateful when I get to visit the Aguinaldo Shrine than when I visited King Sejong's Memorial Museum.
Anyhow, we didn't cross the border directly. We had to spend the night in an apartment that's very near the border. It also faces the sea. The girl in red, Jelyn from Thailand, is seen contemplating by the window. Who wouldn't be mesmerized by this view? Foods were also prepared for us: there was spicy beef soup and Kimchi. Surprise! Since the tent was wasn't big enough to accommodate everyone for dinner, I and Freda (Singapore), Ken (Malaysia), and Joe (Laos) had to find a place where we could refill comfortably.
It rained heavily that day but we had to continue marching to a certain High School where a presentation was prepared. Two famous rappers brought the house down despite the falling rain. Participating students also gave their best to their comedic stunts. I remember the poor guy bashing his head through a watermelon. ... Toughie.
Sleepy now...it's 2:31am. I'll just edit this tomorrow.
Monday, July 14, 2008
The Chronicles of the Northern Kimchi 1 of ~
We rode the bus at around 9am and went northwards. It was a very long drive. But the seats in the tour bus were so comfortable that I really didn't mind siting for hours. The view was unspeakably magnificent for it was Summer. The hills and mountain ranges were green with life, farming areas teeming with ginseng and other growths, condominiums sparsely dotting the landscape. We're divorcing form the city, I thought. After about 2 hours of wheeling continuously, I thought I should get some sleep. But my brain's sentimental hemisphere nags at me to look outside the bus' window because it knows that I won't see the landscape again the same way as it is now. I guess the reason was well-founded so I resisted the urge to close my eyes. However, these days, try as I may to recall what were seen, all that appears is a whipped-up imagery of greens and browns and the monotonous grayness of the road; the beauty wasn't preserved at all in my head. I should have just gone to sleep. As I always say, my mind is so fragile as to keep the subtleties of nature, friendship, and virtually all other things, intact for a reminiscence anytime.
to be continued~~
Sunday, July 13, 2008
Two Faces of My Girlfriend
Today I watched Two Faces of My Girlfriend (Du Olgeuri Yeochin/두 얼굴의 여친), which is about a college male student who has never had a girlfriend before. Gu-cheong is a "rare species deserving to be under the protection of UNESCO". He eventually meets a girl named Anni who also attends his university. Anni's split-personality disorder (I think SPD is a misdiagnosis, a misnomer actually; find out for yourself why) made Gu-cheong's life sassy, eventful, and half of the time painful.
This movie would really take you to comedic peaks to dramatic troughs. It might seem to be just your another humdrum humor flick in the first hour but it is NOT! Definitely not!!! The twist near the end is just so fantastic that I thought the movie was carefully planned; it won't insult your logic even if it's a comedy film.
Two Faces of My Girlfriend is funny but not dumb and sappy. I really recommend this to everyone! ^^;
Saturday, July 12, 2008
North Korea Rejects On-Site Inspection Into Shooting Death
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North Korea Saturday rejected the South's demand for an on-site inspection by Seoul officials into the death of a South Korean tourist at the North's Mount Geumgang.
In a statement, the North's operator of the joint tourism program expressed regret about the death, but claimed that the South should take responsibility for the incident.
It urged Seoul to apologize for it and take steps to prevent recurrence of similar incidents.
As to the South's decision to suspend the tourism program, the North said, ``Until the South apologizes for the incident properly and take measures to prevent recurrence of similar incidents, we will not accept tourists from the South."
The government attempted to send North Korea a telegram demanding an on-site inspection by Seoul officials into the death of Park Wang-ja, 53, a resident in Nowon-gu, Seoul. But it was unable to get a clear response, the Ministry of Unification said.
Park, a housewife, was shot to death by a North Korean soldier early Friday, while taking a pre-dawn stroll on a beach near the Mount Geumgang resort.
Pyongyang claimed the woman crossed about 1.2 kilometers into a fenced-off military area, but fled back toward the hotel where she was staying when the soldier ordered her to halt for investigation, Hyundai Asan, the South's operator of the tour program, was quoted as saying by Yonhap News.
article reference
Friday, July 11, 2008
South Korean Tourist Shot Dead at Mt. Geumgang
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Thing is, she was unarmed but she was shot thrice. That couldn't be any more terrible for an old lady like Ms. Park. It was reported that she fled after hearing a warning shot. But who wouldn't be scared to his wits after hearing a gun fire? That N. Korean soldier clearly doesn't know the distinction between a human being and a wild boar. I bet he grew up without a mother.
As for the South Koreans, this reader's comment from Korea Times, in my opinion, is very incisive: "Two months of violent protests over safe beef, nothing for an old lady who as executed." Is this incident not enough a reason for S. Koreans to collectively express vehemence (on this particular issue only) towards the North?
But then again, this is an outsider's perspective. The South could still be regarding the North as fellow Koreans so this incident doesn't appear to them as hostility from 'another' country.
The Call
It started out as a feeling
Which then grew into hope
Which then turned into a quiet thought
Which then turned into a quiet word
And then that word grew louder and louder
Till it was a battle cry
I'll come back when you call me
No need to say goodbye
Just because everything's changing
Doesn't mean it's never been this way before
All you can do is try to know who your friends are
As you head off to war
Pick a star on the dark horizon and follow the light
You'll come back when it's over
No need to say goodbye
You'll come back when it's over
No need to say goodbye
Now we're back to the beginning
It's just a feeling and no one knows yet
But just because they can't feel it, too
Doesn't means that you have to forget
Let your memories grow stronger and stronger
Till they're before your eyes
You'll come back when they call you
No need to say goodbye
You'll come back when they call you
No need to say goodbye
Thursday, July 10, 2008
Are We Beyond Redemption?
Let's pray for peace and recovery.
1) Tibet (Everything Kimchi - Philippines)
2) The Cake Chronicles
3) You
I'm tagging:
CrissyHaven
Vhiel
Etavasi
Iris
Macky
Ms. Liz
Pinay Mommy
Sol Lee
SuperGoddess
BonoTravel
Life in Korea
Mariuca
Lady Java
The Fringe Benefits of Failure, and the Importance of Imagination
The Fringe Benefits of Failure, and the Importance of Imagination
Harvard University Commencement Address
J.K. Rowling
Copyright June 2008
President Faust, members of the Harvard Corporation and the Board of Overseers, members of the faculty, proud parents, and, above all, graduates,
The first thing I would like to say is 'thank you.' Not only has Harvard given me an extraordinary honour, but the weeks of fear and nausea I've experienced at the thought of giving this commencement address have made me lose weight. A win-win situation! Now all I have to do is take deep breaths, squint at the red banners and fool myself into believing I am at the world's best-educated Harry Potter convention.
Delivering a commencement address is a great responsibility; or so I thought until I cast my mind back to my own graduation. The commencement speaker that day was the distinguished British philosopher Baroness Mary Warnock. Reflecting on her speech has helped me enormously in writing this one, because it turns out that I can't remember a single word she said. This liberating discovery enables me to proceed without any fear that I might inadvertently influence you to abandon promising careers in business, law or politics for the giddy delights of becoming a gay wizard.
You see? If all you remember in years to come is the 'gay wizard' joke, I've still come out ahead of Baroness Mary Warnock. Achievable goals: the first step towards personal improvement.
Actually, I have wracked my mind and heart for what I ought to say to you today. I have asked myself what I wish I had known at my own graduation, and what important lessons I have learned in the 21 years that has expired between that day and this.
I have come up with two answers. On this wonderful day when we are gathered together to celebrate your academic success, I have decided to talk to you about the benefits of failure. And as you stand on the threshold of what is sometimes called 'real life', I want to extol the crucial importance of imagination.
These might seem quixotic or paradoxical choices, but please bear with me.
Looking back at the 21-year-old that I was at graduation, is a slightly uncomfortable experience for the 42-year-old that she has become. Half my lifetime ago, I was striking an uneasy balance between the ambition I had for myself, and what those closest to me expected of me.
I was convinced that the only thing I wanted to do, ever, was to write novels. However, my parents, both of whom came from impoverished backgrounds and neither of whom had been to college, took the view that my overactive imagination was an amusing personal quirk that could never pay a mortgage, or secure a pension.
They had hoped that I would take a vocational degree; I wanted to study English Literature. A compromise was reached that in retrospect satisfied nobody, and I went up to study Modern Languages. Hardly had my parents' car rounded the corner at the end of the road than I ditched German and scuttled off down the Classics corridor.
I cannot remember telling my parents that I was studying Classics; they might well have found out for the first time on graduation day. Of all subjects on this planet, I think they would have been hard put to name one less useful than Greek mythology when it came to securing the keys to an executive bathroom.
I would like to make it clear, in parenthesis, that I do not blame my parents for their point of view. There is an expiry date on blaming your parents for steering you in the wrong direction; the moment you are old enough to take the wheel, responsibility lies with you. What is more, I cannot criticise my parents for hoping that I would never experience poverty. They had been poor themselves, and I have since been poor, and I quite agree with them that it is not an ennobling experience. Poverty entails fear, and stress, and sometimes depression; it means a thousand petty humiliations and hardships. Climbing out of poverty by your own efforts, that is indeed something on which to pride yourself, but poverty itself is romanticised only by fools.
What I feared most for myself at your age was not poverty, but failure.
At your age, in spite of a distinct lack of motivation at university, where I had spent far too long in the coffee bar writing stories, and far too little time at lectures, I had a knack for passing examinations, and that, for years, had been the measure of success in my life and that of my peers.
I am not dull enough to suppose that because you are young, gifted and well-educated, you have never known hardship or heartbreak. Talent and intelligence never yet inoculated anyone against the caprice of the Fates, and I do not for a moment suppose that everyone here has enjoyed an existence of unruffled privilege and contentment.
However, the fact that you are graduating from Harvard suggests that you are not very well-acquainted with failure. You might be driven by a fear of failure quite as much as a desire for success. Indeed, your conception of failure might not be too far from the average person's idea of success, so high have you already flown academically.
Ultimately, we all have to decide for ourselves what constitutes failure, but the world is quite eager to give you a set of criteria if you let it. So I think it fair to say that by any conventional measure, a mere seven years after my graduation day, I had failed on an epic scale. An exceptionally short-lived marriage had imploded, and I was jobless, a lone parent, and as poor as it is possible to be in modern Britain, without being homeless. The fears my parents had had for me, and that I had had for myself, had both come to pass, and by every usual standard, I was the biggest failure I knew.
Now, I am not going to stand here and tell you that failure is fun. That period of my life was a dark one, and I had no idea that there was going to be what the press has since represented as a kind of fairy tale resolution. I had no idea how far the tunnel extended, and for a long time, any light at the end of it was a hope rather than a reality.
So why do I talk about the benefits of failure? Simply because failure meant a stripping away of the inessential. I stopped pretending to myself that I was anything other than what I was, and began to direct all my energy into finishing the only work that mattered to me. Had I really succeeded at anything else, I might never have found the determination to succeed in the one arena I believed I truly belonged. I was set free, because my greatest fear had already been realised, and I was still alive, and I still had a daughter whom I adored, and I had an old typewriter and a big idea. And so rock bottom became the solid foundation on which I rebuilt my life.
You might never fail on the scale I did, but some failure in life is inevitable. It is impossible to live without failing at something, unless you live so cautiously that you might as well not have lived at all – in which case, you fail by default.
Failure gave me an inner security that I had never attained by passing examinations. Failure taught me things about myself that I could have learned no other way. I discovered that I had a strong will, and more discipline than I had suspected; I also found out that I had friends whose value was truly above rubies.
The knowledge that you have emerged wiser and stronger from setbacks means that you are, ever after, secure in your ability to survive. You will never truly know yourself, or the strength of your relationships, until both have been tested by adversity. Such knowledge is a true gift, for all that it is painfully won, and it has been worth more to me than any qualification I ever earned.
Given a time machine or a Time Turner, I would tell my 21-year-old self that personal happiness lies in knowing that life is not a check-list of acquisition or achievement. Your qualifications, your CV, are not your life, though you will meet many people of my age and older who confuse the two. Life is difficult, and complicated, and beyond anyone's total control, and the humility to know that will enable you to survive its vicissitudes.
You might think that I chose my second theme, the importance of imagination, because of the part it played in rebuilding my life, but that is not wholly so. Though I will defend the value of bedtime stories to my last gasp, I have learned to value imagination in a much broader sense. Imagination is not only the uniquely human capacity to envision that which is not, and therefore the fount of all invention and innovation. In its arguably most transformative and revelatory capacity, it is the power that enables us to empathise with humans whose experiences we have never shared.
One of the greatest formative experiences of my life preceded Harry Potter, though it informed much of what I subsequently wrote in those books. This revelation came in the form of one of my earliest day jobs. Though I was sloping off to write stories during my lunch hours, I paid the rent in my early 20s by working in the research department at Amnesty International's headquarters in London.
There in my little office I read hastily scribbled letters smuggled out of totalitarian regimes by men and women who were risking imprisonment to inform the outside world of what was happening to them. I saw photographs of those who had disappeared without trace, sent to Amnesty by their desperate families and friends. I read the testimony of torture victims and saw pictures of their injuries. I opened handwritten, eye-witness accounts of summary trials and executions, of kidnappings and rapes.
Many of my co-workers were ex-political prisoners, people who had been displaced from their homes, or fled into exile, because they had the temerity to think independently of their government. Visitors to our office included those who had come to give information, or to try and find out what had happened to those they had been forced to leave behind.
I shall never forget the African torture victim, a young man no older than I was at the time, who had become mentally ill after all he had endured in his homeland. He trembled uncontrollably as he spoke into a video camera about the brutality inflicted upon him. He was a foot taller than I was, and seemed as fragile as a child. I was given the job of escorting him to the Underground Station afterwards, and this man whose life had been shattered by cruelty took my hand with exquisite courtesy, and wished me future happiness.
And as long as I live I shall remember walking along an empty corridor and suddenly hearing, from behind a closed door, a scream of pain and horror such as I have never heard since. The door opened, and the researcher poked out her head and told me to run and make a hot drink for the young man sitting with her. She had just given him the news that in retaliation for his own outspokenness against his country's regime, his mother had been seized and executed.
Every day of my working week in my early 20s I was reminded how incredibly fortunate I was, to live in a country with a democratically elected government, where legal representation and a public trial were the rights of everyone.
Every day, I saw more evidence about the evils humankind will inflict on their fellow humans, to gain or maintain power. I began to have nightmares, literal nightmares, about some of the things I saw, heard and read.
And yet I also learned more about human goodness at Amnesty International than I had ever known before.
Amnesty mobilises thousands of people who have never been tortured or imprisoned for their beliefs to act on behalf of those who have. The power of human empathy, leading to collective action, saves lives, and frees prisoners. Ordinary people, whose personal well-being and security are assured, join together in huge numbers to save people they do not know, and will never meet. My small participation in that process was one of the most humbling and inspiring experiences of my life.
Unlike any other creature on this planet, humans can learn and understand, without having experienced. They can think themselves into other people's minds, imagine themselves into other people's places.
Of course, this is a power, like my brand of fictional magic, that is morally neutral. One might use such an ability to manipulate, or control, just as much as to understand or sympathise.
And many prefer not to exercise their imaginations at all. They choose to remain comfortably within the bounds of their own experience, never troubling to wonder how it would feel to have been born other than they are. They can refuse to hear screams or to peer inside cages; they can close their minds and hearts to any suffering that does not touch them personally; they can refuse to know.
I might be tempted to envy people who can live that way, except that I do not think they have any fewer nightmares than I do. Choosing to live in narrow spaces can lead to a form of mental agoraphobia, and that brings its own terrors. I think the wilfully unimaginative see more monsters. They are often more afraid.
What is more, those who choose not to empathise may enable real monsters. For without ever committing an act of outright evil ourselves, we collude with it, through our own apathy.
One of the many things I learned at the end of that Classics corridor down which I ventured at the age of 18, in search of something I could not then define, was this, written by the Greek author Plutarch: What we achieve inwardly will change outer reality.
That is an astonishing statement and yet proven a thousand times every day of our lives. It expresses, in part, our inescapable connection with the outside world, the fact that we touch other people's lives simply by existing.
But how much more are you, Harvard graduates of 2008, likely to touch other people's lives? Your intelligence, your capacity for hard work, the education you have earned and received, give you unique status, and unique responsibilities. Even your nationality sets you apart. The great majority of you belong to the world's only remaining superpower. The way you vote, the way you live, the way you protest, the pressure you bring to bear on your government, has an impact way beyond your borders. That is your privilege, and your burden.
If you choose to use your status and influence to raise your voice on behalf of those who have no voice; if you choose to identify not only with the powerful, but with the powerless; if you retain the ability to imagine yourself into the lives of those who do not have your advantages, then it will not only be your proud families who celebrate your existence, but thousands and millions of people whose reality you have helped transform for the better. We do not need magic to change the world, we carry all the power we need inside ourselves already: we have the power to imagine better.
I am nearly finished. I have one last hope for you, which is something that I already had at 21. The friends with whom I sat on graduation day have been my friends for life. They are my children's godparents, the people to whom I've been able to turn in times of trouble, friends who have been kind enough not to sue me when I've used their names for Death Eaters. At our graduation we were bound by enormous affection, by our shared experience of a time that could never come again, and, of course, by the knowledge that we held certain photographic evidence that would be exceptionally valuable if any of us ran for Prime Minister.
So today, I can wish you nothing better than similar friendships. And tomorrow, I hope that even if you remember not a single word of mine, you remember those of Seneca, another of those old Romans I met when I fled down the Classics corridor, in retreat from career ladders, in search of ancient wisdom:
As is a tale, so is life: not how long it is, but how good it is, is what matters.
I wish you all very good lives.
Thank you very much.
The Clutter Junkster
Dedication Post
1) Creature of Habit
2) Hope for Joy
3) Frozen in Time
4) Precious Wound
5) Ironed Fashion
6) My Name is Rain
7) Winning Moment
8) Life on Film
9) I Can't Touch the Things that are True
10) Kaleidoscopic Bibimbapish Post
11) Two Faces of My Girlfriend
11) Chronicles of Northern Kimchi 1 of ~
12) Chronicles of Northern Kimchi 2 of ~
Post-Korea Stress Syndrome
1) Time in a Bottle
2) For a While
3) Still Single
4) Thesis Acknowledgments
5) A Tribute to the Triad
6) Prince Caspian: A Must See
7) Halo-halo for the Rainy Days
8) Family Reunion
9) Lying is A By-product
10) Gladiators in My Dream
11) Turning a New Leaf
12) Is There a Bane to Being Brown?
13) Serve the People?
14) Lament of a Call Center Agent
15) A Mechalife
16) Aliens in the Outfield and Tesla's Death Ray
Weapons of Mass ECtraction
The rule is simple: My top 3 EC droppers will each receive a special photo I took from North Korea's Geumgangsan in Summer of 2007.
Many people (including South Koreans) reckon Geumgangsan to be the most majestic mountain in the Korean peninsula. I was lucky to have walked North Korean soil as it was a privilege to ASEAN scholars 2007. Many thanks to DJU and to the professors that sponsored us in this 3-day excursion to the North.
Bombing starts today till July 30.
Atomic Bomber Prize Geumgangsan Waterfall
Hydrogen Bomber Prize Geumgang Landsape
TNT Bomber Prize Geumgangsan Stream
Photo properties: 1280x800, without the watermarks, color-enhanced.
Wednesday, July 9, 2008
U.P. Closed to Brightest of Poor
While his Math 17 instructor was deleting his name from the class list, I could see the poverty, desperation, anger and sense of resignation in their faces. It was not the disappointment of winning the lottery and being denied the prize later. The young man is a member of a minority group in Mindanao. Without any connections and in the absence of any socialized admission policy, he qualified as a freshman in the College of Science of UP Diliman, a distinction he earned through intelligence, pure hard work and perseverance amid poverty. But in a few days, father and son are going back to Mindanao for good.
The father explained they could not afford the “socialized” tuition at P600 per unit for students in Bracket C, families whose annual incomes range from P135,001 to P500,000 per annum. The father and son expected to be in Bracket D, families with annual incomes ranging from P80,001 to P135,000. Students in bracket D pay P300 per unit.
UP president Emerlinda Roman seems to be disconnected from reality, or she must be fooling herself by insisting that the new Socialized Tuition and Financial Assistance Program (STFAP) is fair and proper for an “iskolar ng bayan” [scholar of the nation]. Her family should try living on P6,666.75 a month (which when multiplied by 12—the number of months in a year—equals P80,001, the lower bound of Bracket D incomes).
UP, no longer conscious of its role in society, chooses to ignore the long-term impact of offering greater genuine educational opportunities to the brightest among the poor, who are getting poorer amid the reported economic gains of the country. Socialized admission and tuition fee schemes do not lower academic standards. I’ve had countless students from public schools and far-flung provinces. They come to UP not as well prepared as their counterparts from the best schools in Metro Manila. But many later outshine the sometimes overconfident Manila-raised kids.
After the new STFAP took effect last year, UP is no longer an option for the brightest among the poor. I agree with the cab driver whose daughter qualified for UP Diliman, as narrated in Youngblood (Inquirer, 3/24/08) by Mariel Kierulf Asiddao, a UP Mass Communication student. The cab driver insisted it was ESTIFAK and not STFAP.
article reference
Vote for the Philippines Naitonal Costume Meme
***start here***
A tag for ALL Filipinos!
The 2008 Miss Universe comes to Vietnam for a night of stars and glamour in search of the most beautiful woman in the world! The winner for Best National Costume will be decided by online votes. So now, the main objective of this tag is to increase awareness for all Filipinos regarding the online voting. Let’s VOTE for our very unique Philippine National Costume worn by our representative, Jennifer Barrientos.
General Instructions:
1. Go to THIS LINK!
2. In the Menu Bar just above the thumbnail pictures of the delegates, click ASIA/AUSTRALIA.
3. Look for the Philippines’ Costume (like the picture above & it’s actually in the page 2).
4. Click its thumbnail.
5. After clicking, a preview will then appear on the right side of the page. Click “SELECT THIS DELEGATE” located just below that preview.
6. The bad things is, we are to choose 3 delegates! So be sure NOT to vote for those countries that will surely be a strong competitor for the AWARD! :)
7. After choosing the Philippines and the “other” two countries, click on “SUBMIT VOTE” located just below the thumbnail pictures.
8. Follow the SIMPLE instructions after that!
9. You’re done! Go Philippines!
* As much as possible, TAG all your FILIPINO friends.
* Copy this post from ***start here*** until ***end here***.
* Also invite your foreigner friends to vote for our national costume! LOL.
* Add your blog link below as a proof that you are one of the TEAM PHILIPPINES!
IMPORTANT REMINDERS:
The Team Philippines
Miss Universe 2008
Tikatlon
Aeirin’s Collections
BiznHoney
JoanJoyce
PinaysaKorea
Everything Kimchi
I'm tagging
A Simple Life
UMAK Chorale
A FilAmJourney
Bluish16
Can of Thoughts
TambayanBox
DonnadeGarcia
Jekay
Kengkay
Mommy's LIttle Corner
Marvz18
Pinay Mommy Online
Filipinos Rock
Sol Lee
Sweet Lyka
Tentay Patis
The Lucky Wan
***end here***
I like the simplicity of Korea's national costume! (uuy biased! hehehehe)
In the Eyes of Koreans
Incredible Stylish New Frames From Zenni. Good eyeglasses in Korea usually sell for a pricey 50U$D and higher, while Zenni Optical $ 8 Rx Eyeglasses
only sells for merely 8 bucks. Moreover, I can choose from a wide selection of Variable Dimension Frames From Zenni. I’m going to consider buying a Zenni eyewear one of these days.
Monday, July 7, 2008
Top 10 Entre Card Droppers
Crissy's Heaven
Work at Home Mom Revolution
Life in Korea
The Spirit of Blogging
Girl for All Status
The Super Goddess
Bored Room
Real Man Toys
A Simple Life
Work at Home Mom Revolution
This Side of Eternity
Thank you all! Maraming Salamat!
Let's continue the EC revo!
sEntry: The Clutter Junkster
Dedication Post
1) Creature of Habit
2) Hope for Joy
3) Frozen in Time
4) Precious Wound
5) Ironed Fashion
6) My Name is Rain
7) Winning Moment
8) Life on Film
9) I Can't Touch the Things that are True
10) Kaleidoscopic Bibimbapish Post
Post-Korea Stress Syndrome
1) Time in a Bottle
2) For a While
3) Still Single
4) Thesis Acknowledgments
5) A Tribute to the Triad
6) Prince Caspian: A Must See
7) Halo-halo for the Rainy Days
8) Family Reunion
9) Lying is A By-product
10) Gladiators in My Dream
11) Turning a New Leaf
12) Is There a Bane to Being Brown?
13) Serve the People?
14) Lament of a Call Center Agent
15) A Mechalife
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