Tag Archives: Rant

“This is madness.”

One of the most wonderful people I know, Misha, suggested I watch this documentary by BBC. It’s about a bus driver from London who goes to Manila with a challenge to become a jeepney driver by the end of the trip – DRIVE A JEEP ALONE IN MANILA (Siya pa nanunukli)! He lives with Rogelio (a jeepney driver) and his family and learns, firsthand, how tough it is to live in our country.

I cried. And cried again. The world is anything but fair. I urge you, if you have a little less than an hour, to watch the docu below – The Toughest Place To Be A Bus Driver. You can watch it now or later. But I assure you, it is not a waste of time. My thoughts and frustrations are below.

I will write about 2 things. You may read one and not the other. Or not read at all. But I’m hoping you read both! :p

Road Rage

I, too, drive through the streets of Metro Manila. I confess that I do scream, curse, and lash-out (in the confines of my car) at pedestrians and other drivers on the road, most specially jeepney and bus drivers. In these moments, I feel I live in a place that is the epitome of inconsideration. And, against all my better judgment, I get sucked into the bandwagon.

Inconsideration, in my opinion, is an extremely huge problem in our society. I’ve always believed that if people were more considerate of each other, lines would move faster, traffic would ease up, mall-wide sales wouldn’t give me a migraine, and stress levels of most everyone when outside the confines of their home would decrease.

But where does this come from? Why can’t most people think of anyone but themselves?

I guess the true questions is, “How can one be considerate when one’s mind is on survival mode? Can I feed my family today?”

Inconsideration stems from this dog-eat-dog world, the reality of day-to-day survival.

What happens to my road rage now? It’s so much easier to be angry, curse at faceless strangers and not care. But how can you be angry knowing what these people come home to? … Knowing they’re stuck in a vicious cycle of suffering they can never get out of?

Rage turns to sorrow.

Life. To live. It is more than just physical survival.

To understand this rant, you’ll have to watch the documentary… Or just keep in mind that millions of Filipinos live in the slums, in their makeshift homes. Many are young married couples with 12-13 children.

How can one truly value life but accept the condition in which so many Filipinos are living?

How can one value life and accept that people eat recooked rotting food from the trash if they eat anything at all?

How can one that values life be OK with bringing a new life into this world only to starve, suffer, and have nothing but survival in mind?

How can one value truth but withhold readily available information, that is common knowledge to most educated people, from the less fortunate with less access?

How can one be against the RH Bill? I really CANNOT understand. What are you afraid of?

More abortion cases? Please explain to me how this happens with less cases of unwanted pregnancy.

Are you afraid that our country will have a problem of underpopulation like other developed countries? Oh my goodness. Do you really think that it’s as easy as the simplest cause-effect equation? There are so many factors that will contribute to that future possibility. Besides, if you have people that value having a family, this will not happen. I am aware of most all methods of contraception but I still want to have my own children one day… When I can actually sustain them financially and emotionally. Values formation and valuing the family as the basic unit of society can be taught and developed.

Please help me understand… Because my brain can’t seem to wrap itself around this.

What kind of person would think that a young married woman living in a makeshift box with 13 (THIRTEEN!) children and barely anything to eat is wrong for taking measures to prevent any more pregnancies?

Would you condemn her to hell? Isn’t she already living there?

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Get me out of me.

Imagine if you saw yourself as you see your character in an RPG game.

There’s a reason why most games show characters from a 3rd person perspective – WoW and Diablo, SIMS… Even racing games!

I remember my Dad telling me it’s easier playing those racing games in a 3rd person view. He said you can see how the car reacts to everything so you know whether you’re too fast, braking too early or too late.

Same goes for characters in the other games I mentioned, even those I didn’t. You see how your character moves. You’ll catch the things you’re doing wrong; see things you’re doing right.

I’d imagine life would be easier if I could choose a 3rd person view.

I’d probably realize more quickly when I’m saying something out of line or doing something stupid. I’d like to see my face, not JUST to make sure I look good (Hehe), but to make sure my facial expressions don’t reveal negative thoughts and emotions like anger, annoyance, distaste, or utter disgust… Not unless I want them out in the open. :p

Plus, it might make it easier for people to come to terms with how they look physically. Maybe you’ll be forced to accept how you look since you’re seeing yourself constantly… Maybe it’ll be easier to accept yourself AND motivate yourself to be healthier.

There’ll be no need for mirrors to remind you to lose weight, brush your hair, or get more sleep.

And I think that it would help me prevent loads of foot-in-mouth and face-palm moments.

BUTTTTT…

I don’t really need that 3rd person view option.

That may make it easier… But it isn’t the only way.

I can just work work work to take my self out of myself. Think think think that though I do have thoughts, those thoughts are plagued with my own perspective and are oh too subjective.

It’s a constant struggle to stay open to other people’s new discoveries and thoughts and opinions… But to be a good human being, I believe that’s a necessary struggle. And a blissful one – not the happy-laughy-type-of-joy but the deeper kind.

So many seem trapped in their own viewpoint forgetting that a mind has the ability to step out.

AYAYAY.

My ramblings.

I don’t want to write.

I don’t want to write.

There are so many other things I can do besides write.

I can finish Season 3 of True Blood.

I can play Diablo 3.

I can read a book.

I can stare at the ceiling.

I can eat.

I can play with my dog.

I can exercise.

I can wander aimlessly through my endless mind.

I can get trapped in the inter webs.

Ok. I won’t write then… Wait. I already did.

*facepalm*

Stopping now.

A Letter From On High

The Philippine Flag
(From MyJaninay ‘s Instagram)
 

Dear Metro Manila,

I fly over you now amid the pitch black. Looking down, I see your city lights. I wish I could keep you that way – neat, pretty, and far away.

But descending into your chaos, I leave my naive wishes in the darkness to join in the wondrous complexities of your crude existence.

Bah. Humbug.

So much easier being a jaded adult rather than an idealistic and rational individual.

With wavering love,

MyJaninay

The Hanoi-ing Impression Sandwich

The French occupied Hanoi in 1873 and became the capital of French Indochina after 1887.

My weeklong stay in Hanoi was, unfortunately, sandwiched by frustrating impressions, which I will release here in order to write a bitter-free blog post on Vietnam’s capital.

Upon leaving the arrival gates of the Noi Bai airport, I was greeted by a swarm of taxi drivers looking for unsuspecting passengers. Taxis in Hanoi have meters (those rate calculators) and these cabbies try and get you to agree on a fixed rate.

AYAYAY.

So should you go Hanoi-ing, don’t forget to ask your hotel to have someone pick you up. And keep the number of the hotel with you in case no one’s around to sweep you and your luggage off your feet or wheels or whatever… Lest you wind up like me – waiting for someone who never arrives.

Due to the odd time Cebu Pacific flights arrive in Hanoi (1am or so), there was a mix up with my “pick up”. So I waited over an hour for a cab that never came while overeager Vietnamese mosquitos feasted on my extremely sleepy boddeh!

Good thing a cab just so happened to pass by the dark and empty airport or else I may have spent the night there. (HEEYIPES.)

Oh, just so you know, there’s a curfew in Hanoi and almost everything shuts down at midnight so I cannot stress enough the importance of arranging someone to pick you up from the airport specially if you arrive late.

The Impression Sandwich title should give the correct impression that both the first AND last impressions will be written about. So let’s get the extremely irritating and intensely frustrating last impression out.

Saturday night, whilst trying to spend all my Dong (the Vietnamese currency) on pasalubong for friends & family…

(pasalubong is what we Filipinos call presents bought for others, usually when on a trip.  Para means “for” and salubong means “to greet” or “to meet” and these gifts are meant to be given when you “meet/greet” your loved ones again.)

My bag was slashed open from behind and some AWESOME person took my iPhone. I was extremely careful with the iPhone I named BUD WHITE throughout my stay and, admittedly, that night was the most careless I had been ’cause I was in a rush to finish my shopping and get back to my hotel before having to leave for the airport. I WAS STILL PRETTY CAREFUL THOUGH. I’d make sure the zipper of my bag was close to me and I’d hold my phone extremely tight most of the time. But the night market really is the perfect setting for thieves. You’ll eventually get stuck in a tight crowd. You’ll eventually look at items in stalls and not have all your attention on your bag.

*sigh*

You have no idea how pissed I was.

*sigh*

Farewell, Bud. And bye bye to all the photos and videos I took on the trip to provide a more entertaining and informative blog entry… So you guys should say bye bye to a more interesting Hanoi post from moi, too.

*sigh again*

ANYWHOOOO. Though my post on Hanoi will definitely be way LESS entertaining, I’ll still try to provide you with all the information you need to enjoy a trip to Hanoi as I did, for the most part.

Don’t worry, it’s still a very interesting place to visit. The buns that hold the sandwich may taste like crap, but what’s important is what’s in the sandwich itself rightttt? Right.

(Yep. That’s what I keep telling myself.)