My brother complained about his name being “messed up” by the government because he apparently lost his second given name on a document. He thought of calling the office and have it changed. Well, I told him he didn’t have to.

We’ve been born to think that Middle Names are actually our mothers’ maiden name. That’s the Philippines’ case, I guess. But did you ever wonder why the President is named Benigno S. Aquino? His Middle initial is an ‘S’ and not ‘C’ for Cojuangco, his mother’s maiden name. Well, that’s because the ‘S’ is actually his second given name. It stands for Benigno Simeon Cojuangco Aquino.

Another Philippine President who popularly used his second given name as his middle initial is Manuel L. Quezon. His mother’s maiden name is Molina and not Luis.

Jose Rizal messed up his name even further. Both ‘Jose’ and ‘Rizal’ are his given names. When I was a kid, I thought Rizal was just being “maarte” because seriously, why do you have to mess up your name?

That’s not even the worst case. F. Scott Fitzgerald, author of my favorite short story, the Curious Case of Benjamin Button didn’t use his first given name. While J.R.R. Tolkien simply didn’t want to use all of his given names. LOL

So anyway, this is because there is actually no concrete rule in using names. Most people with multiple names use those that they are commonly known for. In the Philippines, we are using the Spanish naming custom. In Thailand, middle names aren’t common. They are usually given very long names while surnames are rarely used.

My brother was surprised that he’s now known as Wilson A. Yu. I find it interesting, though. Because I think that full names are identities that reach farther into the paper. It speaks of our whole identity, it speaks of our soul and revealing it to anyone makes me feel like I’m so bare. Well, not exactly. I don’t even have a second name to hide. Pffft!

Mom, I wish you gave me a second name. ‘Allen’ is just plain boring. :(((((

P.S. Did you know that I didn’t know what my surname was until I reached Grade 1? Back in Kindergarten, all I knew was that I am Allen, nothing more. So whenever there are exams, I would only write my first name and my teacher would do the rest for me. Until now, I still wonder why she didn’t dare teach me how to write my surname. Weird.

Last Monday’s hostage-taking crisis seriously was a pain in the nape. But seriously, I do feel bad and sorry for the victims and from the bottom of my heart, I apologize to the victims’ families and the entire Chinese nation.

But (yes, there will be buts), I am alarmed and worried at the path this issue is taking. There has been news that China/Hong Kong is very much outraged by the incident. Yes, it is normal, who wouldn’t be outraged with that unfortunate incident? If I am from  Hong Kong, I would be very angry too. But that doesn’t mean I will hate the one whole nation just because one man did that.

I read on the news that several Filipinos working in Hong Kong immediately got sacked as retaliation from angry Chinese employers while Diplomatic staff at the Philippine consulate in Hong Kong are being shouted at by angry Chinese protesters.

Even my former professor at the university posted this status on his Facebook account:

“My friend just arrived from Hong Kong. When he showed his passport to an immigration officer there and learned that he is a Filipino, the officer suddenly changed his pleasing expression into an evil look and threw his passport back at him.”

I have also discovered quite a few hate pages to the Philippines by the Chinese and Hong Kong people and countless hate messages aimed directly at the entire nation.

Where I live now, there are people from all over the world living in harmony. There are lots of Chinese people living in our neighborhood, there’s even a Chinese supermarket not far from here and that’s where we buy our food. However, I am afraid that the Chinese people here would think differently of us Filipinos. I do hope that doesn’t happen.

I do understand that there was negligence on the part of our government and that there should’ve been better ways to save the victims. However, much has been done and investigation is under way to find what really went wrong. Until then, we can never assume anything.

As a nation of 90 million people, I know, although I am not in the Philippines right now, that my people isn’t happy about this and that we, the Filipinos from all over the world, want to extend our apologies to the people of Hong Kong and whoever that might have been affected by the unfortunate event.

However, I call upon the Chinese people, especially to the people of Hong Kong that anger and retaliation is making it worse. We didn`t want that to happen so I call upon you to stop acting as if you are the only victims in this situation. We Filipinos have always regarded you as our friends, our allies and most importantly, our brothers with whom we shared an entire civilization with. We have embraced your people in our land and considered them our own as much as you did with us. We have never criticized China`s acts against human rights in Tibet and the continuous dispute against the Dalai Lama. We never criticized how your government oppressed Taiwan and your massive production of materials that are way below quality standards. I hope the Chinese people would understand that what happened in Manila is much much smaller than what is happening in your country. But we take no action against it because we believe that the Chinese people will later understand their own mistakes just like we do now. No country, nation or race is perfect.

How many times do we have to say sorry for something most of us had nothing to do with? How many times do our innocent people have to suffer from retaliation?

We didn’t blame the Germans for what Hitler did. We didn’t blame the Japanese people for what the Japanese soldiers did back in the World War II. We never blamed the Spanish people for what the Spanish friars and officials did with Jose Rizal and the other patriots in our country.

We are deeply sorry, I guess that’s everything we can say for now. Please do not mistreat innocent Filipinos in Hong Kong. They are having a hard time as much as you are.

And I hope that the Chinese people  especially the people of Hong Kong also learn from what Mahatma Gandhi has to say:

“If we practice ‘an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth’, soon the whole world will be blind and toothless.”

Again, and we will never get tired of saying this, we are deeply sorry.

对不起

So eto ang ilan sa mga bagay bagay na nabibili ko dati sa tindahan ni Aling Ason sa J.Ruiz St., San Juan City (lagot ka Aling Ason, sinabi ko address mo).

Purefoods Corned Beef: 176 Pesos

Sa tindahan ni Aling Ason, ito ay humigit-kumulang 60 Pesos lamang.

Magic Sarap Seasoning: 132 Pesos

Sa tindahan ni Aling Ason, ito ay humigit-kumulang 30 Pesos lamang.

2-Litre Sprite: 88 Pesos

Sa tindahan ni Aling Ason: humigit-kumulang 60 Pesos lamang.

Lucky Me Cup Noodles: 50 Pesos

Sa tindahan ni Aling Ason, 25 Pesos lang ito.

Bus/Train Ticket: 110 Pesos

Obviously, wala to sa tindahan ni Aling Ason. Hindi konduktor si Aling Ason. Pero ang itcket na ito ay sapat lamang sa byaheng kasing haba ng buong EDSA na kung sa Kolorum na bus ay nagkakahalaga lamang ng humigit-kumulang 60 Pesos.

Real D 3D Movie: 616 Pesos

Hindi mall ang tindahan ni Aling Ason kaya baliw ka kung iisipin mong meron nito sa kanila. But then again, ang Real D 3D sa SM (sa pagkakaalala ko) ay nagkakahalaga lamang ng 200-300 Pesos.

Imagine kung ganyan din ang presyo sa Pilipinas? Edi pulubi na tayong lahat. Haha. Sisihin natin ang mga ekonomista dahil sila ang sumisiguradong hindi yayaman ang lahat ng tao (which means sisisihin ko din ang kuya ko dahil ekonomista sya). LOL

___________________________________________________________________________________________

There was a pang of anxiety the moment I got off the buss that day. It was unusually windy on a day at the peak of summer, very much not as I expected. I dropped my heavy bag carelessly on the ground and dust exploded right on, almost covering my feet entirely. The place was silent aside from the birds chirping at a nearby Acacia tree whose vines and aging trunks seem to have aged much in just a few years. The wind blew again and the leaves from the old tree rustled that seemed like a whisper, telling me that I should go forth. I retrieved my bag from the ground and headed straight towards the unpaved Calle Arboledo.

There really isn’t anything interesting about this road, aside from the memories that I had here. Memories that I shared with one particular woman, who might have been the reason why fate brought me back here. The rice paddies on both sides of the road lay dry, eagerly waiting for the rain to come and water its thirsty surface. We used to spend our afternoons here, sitting in the hay while watching the distant sun bury itself in the mountains of the Madia-as. Then she will watch me practice my back flips on the hay stack and laugh everytime I fall. I would chase her and wrestle in the hay until our skins get itchy.

“Are we doing this again tomorrow?” She asked while carefully surveying me with her big adorable eyes.

“Only if you want to,” I answered. Giving her a wide smile which she said was very distinct to me. A smile that she said looked more like teasing, revealing a naughty side of me.

“Of course, I do! I want to be here with you every day.” She declared and I planted a kiss on her lips, the kiss that I still cannot forget until now.

I suddenly came back to my senses and I realized that I have already reached the end of the road. There on the distance was a small kogon house surrounded with vegetable plots that seemed to have been harvested already. On the corner of the lot, under a small tree was an old wooden bench, it stood there right before I left. It looked the same just when I left it. There on that bench, I said my goodbyes to her as I was leaving for Manila the next day to go to the university.

“How will you live there? Who’s going to look after you? What about us?” she asked as her tears raced down her cheeks.

“I won’t be gone forever. I’ll be back for Christmas and next summer when school’s over. I’m sure we’ll have plenty of time to spend for each other when I get back.” I assured her. I ran down my fingers through her soft wet cheeks and brushed the hair out of her face. Her sad eyes almost killed me of pain.

We spent our last night together happily and not thinking about my departure in the morning. That must have been the best moment we shared.

My trip back for Christmas got postponed because the war broke out and I had to stay at a relative in Pampanga. I was able to get back to school two years later and the war wasn’t even over yet. During those two years, I have almost forgotten about her. I forgot to answer her letters because of all the tension that has been creeping out over the town. There were a few occasions, though, that her presence lingered on my senses and I felt a sudden guilt of not being able to visit her or even write her a letter.

Until I found out that she met another man already and that she bore a child until the man left her. They said nobody knew the father of the child and that she herself didn’t know who he was. There were even rumors that the father might have been a customer she met on a cabaret in Culasi. My mother told me she was dubbed a prostitute back home. A title I cannot dare imagine of her.

I never knew we would end up just like that. No letters, no conversations, no goodbyes. I decided not to go back to avoid the pain of meeting her again. I stayed at school for another year. I studied hard until my mind got stressed out. Finally, after three years, I plucked up the courage to go home, to go back and meet her again. I wanted to visit her, to see what she looks like now and to know how she’s been doing without a husband. My mind pictured out a girl I knew three years ago, anxiously waiting to see the changes on her face.

I stopped a few steps from the door of the kogon house and took a deep breath before I knocked. Pots clanged right after I knocked. I might have startled her. Then I heard footsteps coming towards the door, my heart beating even faster.

The door slowly opened and I felt my heart burst out of anxiety. Slowly, her face showed up from the dark. Her hair was untidy and she had a few gray strands on the sea of black. Nothing much changed in her face aside from the few small wrinkles in her forehead. Her eyes widened at the sight of me, I smiled out of courtesy. There was a long silence between us until I had the courage to break it for the two of us.

“Hi, how are you? I hope you still remember me.” I said, my voice suddenly went shaky.

She did not reply to me, however. Instead, she gave me a smile, a wide smile accompanied by the sudden gush of tears from her tired eyes. Then suddenly, a small figure came out of the shadow. A small kid bearing a confused look appeared from behind her, curiously looking at the stranger who just arrived. The kid smiled at me too, a smile that I am really familiar with. It was a smile that looked more like teasing, displaying the kid’s naughty side.

I looked at back at her; she was still smiling and crying at the same time. Then I realized, the kid looked exactly like me.

]]> http://allenyuonline.com/?feed=rss2&p=567 11 http://allenyuonline.com/?p=557 http://allenyuonline.com/?p=557#comments Thu, 05 Aug 2010 07:07:42 +0000 Allen http://allenyuonline.com/?p=557 Look! I found a way to enter the United States without even having to get a visa!

Well, more like it, actually.

Because we’re just a few miles away from the US-Canada border, we decided to try to bypass the border police. Good thing these two countries have very friendly ties since the beginning that its citizens enjoy a visa-free passage to either countries and its residents a chance to “set foot” at the neighboring country.

The border crossing on Peace Arch Park is a park straddling the boundary between the United States and Canada. Situated right in the middle of the park and the border crossing is the Peace Arch, a monument built by Sam Hill in commemoration of the Treaty of Ghent in 1814. Citizens of both countries can actually enter the park and cross each sides which makes you technically on the other country’s soil.

My mom, who is very prone to panic almost drove towards the US customs and on to Blaine, Washington. Good thing we were able to return to Canada before getting gunned down by the US army. LOL

The Peace Arch has always been open to symbolize the close friendship between the two countries.