Just thought I'd come up with a list...

Friends of mine who gave birth/became new parents this year:

1.  Chin

2.  Junby and Mitzi

3.  Muchay

4.  Lloyd

5.  Bryan and Inch

6.  Jai

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Congratulations everyone! 

Random Discovery # 3

Do you ever wonder what gives Max's Fried Chicken its distinctive taste?  It has no visible coating or any external trace of flavor enhancers, yet it is very tasty in a way that seems natural but not overwhelming.

The secret is in the cooking oil.

They first deep-fry chicharon bulaklak in the oil.  The intestines are reputedly the tastiest part of a pig, and it also contains lots of pig fat.  Once the frying is done, the resulting oil already contains a high concentration of tasty pig fat.  This is where they, in turn, deep fry the chicken.

Si Raul, o!

IN case you guys haven't noticed, this month's blog theme is "negative".  And in keeping with this, we are allotting precious blog space to feature a man who can be rightly called "asshole" in the truest sense of the word.  In terms of spewing mud and vermin against hapless justice-seekers, this man has no peer.

This person is no other than so-called Justice Secretary Raul Gonzales.  And he is today's featured asshole.

Never has a mere cabinet secretary exceeded the infamy of an unpopular chief executive.  No one who has ever held the office "Secretary of Justice" has ever been undeserving of the title.  He is as incompetent as he is arrogant - two traits that he has made full use of in perpetuating the tyrannical rule of his boss, the so-called President Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo.

It's hard to imagine that Asshole Gonzales actually has judicial pedigree, if one believes in such things, being the son of a former Justice of the Supreme Court.  (Incidentally, this puts him in exactly the same level with another scion of a former Supreme Court Chief Justice - a certain Claudio Tehankee, Jr.)









As always, I don't really care if any of you are related or are friends with this scoundrel's family.  Neither will I bother to prove what I'm saying point by point.  Turn on the TV.  Watch the news.  He is an asshole.

Random Discovery # 2

I just discovered for myself that flat frying pans are bad for frying eggs because it forces the egg to occupy a bigger surface area, thereby making it harder to flip them over.  (Yes, I do flip over sunny-side-up eggs when I fry them.)

Old-style pans are better.  Even if the stove is on uneven ground, the pan's rounded bottom allows it to make it level.

Debating with Papa (also 'I don't give a $h!t if this is dirty laundry.')

FORGIVE me, but one of my sources of satisfaction is winning a debate with either of my parents.  I "love" them as a given, but whenever I enter into disagreements with them, I enjoy hitting them with a barrage of well-thought arguments that they end up contradicting themselves.  It's even better if they resort to raised voices and angry tones just to enforce what they think is a right stand.

          I know it's no justification, but if you know my parents in a household setting (and not a social setting which is very different), you'd realize they represent what we all hate about ourselves as Filipinos.  They are racist, homophobic, ultraconservative, and they attempt to pass on these things to us, their children, as wisdom.

          To be sure, all the peoples of the world have a certain amount of racism, bigotry, ignorance, etc. in them.  With us Filipinos, what makes us worse in my opinion is our hypocrisy.  We love to crucify Americans and Europeans for treating blacks with derision, without realizing that we ourselves loathe basically anyone who is different from the norm.  As a rule, we think a lighter-skinned person is automatically better looking than a darker-skinned person.  We always view South Asians as mabaho.  Worst of all, we can tolerate Muslims as long as they stay miles away from us.

          Going back to the subject, where do these biases surface?  Of course, we won't dare expose our biases and prejudices in the 21st century public.  So we let all of these out in the safety of our own homes.  And it was in one of those times I went home that I chanced my parents watching the news.  The news was about Colin Powell endorsing Barack Obama's presidential candidacy.  Here's how my debate with Papa went:

Papa:  (Upon hearing the report.)  Siyempre i-e-endorse niya si Obama.  Negro eh.

Me: (Thinking, "Hmmm...this could be interesting.")

Papa:  (Repeating himself 10 seconds later.)  Ano pa nga ba, eh negro eh!

Me:  Pa, Hindi mo pwedeng sabihing dahil lang negro siya i-e-endorse na niya si Obama.  Bakit si Condoleeza Rice, negra yun pero hindi naman niya inendorse si Obama?

Papa:  Ah, syempre active pa si Rice sa White House eh.  Si Powell retired na.

Me:  Hindi eh, sinabi mo dahil lang negro, i-e-endorse yung kapwa-negro.  Wala ka namang sinabi tungkol sa pagiging-active duty.

Papa:  (Becoming irritated.)  I am merely reflecting what most Americans think.  Marami sa kanila divided rin kay Obama.

Me:  No, you are not reflecting what most Americans think.  I was listening to you.  Your tone of voice reflected what you yourself was thinking.  You even repeated it.  We all heard that.  And besides, hindi ka naman Amerikano.  You have no standing to claim to know what they think.

Papa:  (Raising his voice.)  Ang sinabi ko, young pagiging negro ni Obama could be a reason why Powell endorsed him.  But there could be other reasons.

Me:  Come on, Papa.  If you really meant it was only one of the possible reasons for Powell's endorsement, then you should have specifically said so kanina.  No.  Your exact words were, "Siyempre i-e-endorse niya si Obama.  Negro eh."

Papa:  That's not what I said!  I said....

          It went back and forth.  If this sort of thing had happened a decade ago, it would have resulted to a shouting match that would have ended with us not talking to each other for 1 or 2 weeks.  But I've matured a lot since then, and I didn't allow myself to be baited into showing anger.  What's so satisfying about the whole thing is demonstrating to him how wrong he was, and getting the feeling that he already knows it.  BUT he has to advocate the very same erroneous stand just to enforce what he perceives is his superiority over me.

          I don't know why I relish these exchanges.  Maybe I haven't quite gotten over the realization that my parents aren't God.  Maybe I haven't forgiven them yet for making themselves appear as if they are God.  And maybe I haven't come to terms with the fact that a lot of things that went wrong in my life happened because of them and their biases and prejudices. 

          Oh I know what you would all think - "We are responsible for our own lives, no one else."  I used to think that way too.  But really, there are times when people make wrong decisions and these reverberate through all of eternity.  And of these kinds of mistakes, my parents made a lot of them.  It's hard to explain of course, given the limitations of the written word.

          So I hit back, probably in the hope that if i can't right the mistakes they made, I'd surely be satisfied making them realize I am now better than them despite everything they did.




          OR maybe, I really just like arguing with people in general, and that I could create any reason I can imagine just to relish arguing with anyone.  Come to think of it, there's nothing really special about my parents.  If I had a choice, I would have gladly exchanged them with another couple.

My Baby Book, part 3

STILL on the baby book, there was some information on my baptism, and an unusually detailed listing of the gifts that were given to me and by whom.

= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =

I was christened

by: Fr. Dominic Bao, O.P.

church: UST Chapel

place: España, Manila

date: March 5, 1978

My godparents are: Tito Edgar [Guanco]

Tita Pacita [Flores]

What did I get? (on my baptismal day)

GIFTS GIVEN BY

Blue and yellow socks with Lolo and Lola (Sampaloc)

small bells

Two blue plastic panties Tita Ninang

Three sandos and one set Tito Ninong

printed pants and sando

One dinner set Tito Babes, Tita Tis and Atom

Six diapers and six bibs Tito Jun and Tita Tess

One yellow plastic panty Tita Y-dette

One set sweater, socks Raymond and Katherine Factora

and bonnet

One photo album Tita Ayi and Imelda (Mama's officemates)

One set printed sando Tita Nora Javier

and pants

Two sets sando and Tito Noel and Tita Pet Solim[a]n

pants

This beautiful baby book Tita Caring

= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =

The one thing that struck me when reading this was that I received three panties as gifts.  I guess I should be thankful that they at least were not colored pink (2 blue, 1 yellow).  Seriously, I think that was the generic term for underwear at that time.  One of my earliest memories was of Tita Helen telling me, "Tanggalin mo na iyang panty mo at lalabhan ko na!"

A glance at the names of the givers makes me realize how really long ago that event was.  Lolo and Lola Sampaloc were both still alive.  Atom (who was a baby himself back then) was still the only child of Uncle Babes and Tita Lucille.  Tito Jun and Tita Tess were still together, and Jet-jet wasn't even born yet.  I never knew Tito Pax and Tita Dedeth (parents of Raymond and Kitty) sent me gifts.  I guess the extended family links go back a long way.  I still occasionally hear Mama and Papa mentioning the other names in the list, but from what I gather, most of them are already outside of the country.

Hitler galit sa San Beda

Even if you are not updated on the goings-on in the NCAA, the only way for you to not find this video hilarious is if you are blind. 

Hitler galit sa San Beda  <-----click here.

Random Discovery #1

          

          Did you know that before crash test dummies were invented, they used deceased human bodies?  They strapped them on car seats with their faces covered (out of respect?) and crashed the cars they were in.  Afterwards measurements were made on the effects of the impact and the bodies were examined for signs of injuries.

          Wonder what they were called.  "Crash test cadavers"?

My Baby Book, part 2

EVENTS in the first two years of my life were summarized by Mama in what looks like a 1-page essay under a section in my baby book entitled "My First Years as told by Mother".  Upon closer inspection however, one can see that the different paragraphs were probably made in separate time periods as evidenced by the different writing strokes on each.

          Here is the verbatim reproduction of Mama's journal entry in my baby book (italicizations are mine):

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My First Years as told by Mother

          Chito as a baby is "mabait".  He is not iyakin as compared to his Ate Maricel.  He is not also nangingilala, altho' he also cries when his Lola Marina carries him.  He is friendly to everybody in Kamias¹.  He looks much like his Tito Boy who is in Australia, same face and head.  Chito looks healthy and big but since he was a baby, he has always been sick² as compared to his Ate Maricel.

          When he was ten months old, Chito began to show signs of being close to his Papa.  Whenever his Papa was carrying him, Chito did not want anybody, not even me, to carry him.  At this same time, he's starting to point on things like lights and lizard.  He can now say "Ate" and "lights".

          Chito celebrated his 1st B-day on Jan. 21, 1979, three days after his actual birthday.  many children were invited.  There were games like hitting the pot, and giveaways.

          On his second B-day, I just bought a cake for Chito and we cooked spaghetti and had picture takings.  "Chito Boy" at two is fond of saying words without any meaning (for us).  Example: bagag, shambong, kengkong-kengkong, din, din dan, din dan dan do, etc.  Or else he changes the pronounciation of some words like: yeg for yes, one-g, twog, threeg, fourg for one, two, three & four.  He is also fond of saying "Wow sesy Mama, Iya³," while I'm dressing up. 

          He is also close to his Tita "Lelen".  Sometimes in the middle of the night, he is crying and shouting "Tita Lelen".  He doesn't even want me to come near him.  But Chito Boy is cariñoso.  He is malambing to me (huwag lang may S⁴). 

          Chito Boy has one trait which up to now keeps me guessing.  If he sees me dancing, he'll stop me.  If I sing, he'll say " 'ana Mama" which means "Tama na Mama."  If I wear a new dress that his Lola made for me, he'll tell me to change or remove it.

Notes:

¹ "Kamias" refers to the family home in Kamias Road, Quezon City.
² See previous blog entry.
³ This apparently means, "Wow, sexy si Mama."  How in the world I learned to say that, I don't know.
⁴ S = sumpong.  A common childhood affliction, much to the chagrin of parents.

= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =

          Wow, that last paragraph was so surreal.  What was I thinking?  I mean, how many 2 year olds do you see stopping their parents from having fun?  I must have been the reincarnated soul of a dead Puritan.  Weird.

          Other than that, I do wonder what I could have possibly meant with "shambong", or "kengkong-kengkong".  Any ideas?

To be continued.

My Baby Book, part 1

WHILE dusting my old albums, I found a little hard-bound book that I kept ignoring for years.  The accumulated dust on the cover was the reason why I did not realize its value.  Upon discovering what it was, I sat down, stopped everything I was doing and read the contents.  It had a wealth of information about myself that I never knew Mama kept records on.

          For example,  I was born on a Wednesday at exactly 12:55 pm, in the UST Hospital.  Mama's attending physician was a doctor named Jesus Toma-Cruz, who was apparently also the attending physician during my older sister's and younger brother's own respective births.  There was even a list of my first visitors at the hospital, and two things that were emphasized were (1) that my Lolo Alex (my paternal grandfather) and Kuya Bongbong visited everyday; (2) while my Lola Celing (my maternal grandmother) actually stayed in the hospital throughout the entire confinement following my birth.

          Mama also made an ancestral tree that traced my roots up to my great-grandparents.  It was interesting to note how certain names seemingly belong to specific historical periods and nowhere else.  Names like Ignacio, Gervasia, Catalino, Cristina, Candido, Sotera, Casimiro and Enorata (my great-grandparents' names) are practically extinct as Filipino parents in the 60s and 70s began to shift name preferences for more American-sounding names.

          It's hard to imagine it now, but my weight at birth on January 18, 1978 was 8 lbs. and 2.5 ozs.  And my height was exactly 21 inches.  By my fifth month, I have already more than doubled my weight - measuring 17 lbs. and 12 ozs. on June 10, 1978.  My lower two front teeth appeared on the third week of October 1978, while my upper two front teeth appeared on the first week of November 1978.

          One thing that struck me was learning how sickly I was when I was a baby.  Right now, I'm probably the healthiest in my family, and that from my earliest childhood memory onwards, I don't remember ever being hospitalized.  Reading my health record, as detailed by Mama, paints a very different picture of me.  I am reproducing it in verbatim as it was written by Mama in my point of view:

= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =

My Health Record

1)  3rd to 4th day after birth - my skin became yellow.  Papa and Mama decided to leave me in the hospital for further treatment.  I was released on January 24, 1978.

2)  On March 7, 1978, I had fever and Colic.  I was brought to St. Rose Hospital (emergency).  My fever rose to 39° C.  On March 9, 1978, I was brought to my Pediatrician, Dr. Edgardo Gicaro.

3)  On March 18, 1978, I was brought to my Pedia for my monthly checkup.

4)  On April 1, 1978, I was brought to the hospital because of my cold and fever.  On April 7, 1978, I was again brought to the hospital because of my cough.

5)  On July 27, 1978, I had fever and the doctor diagnosed it as tonsilitis.

6)  In October 1978, I always had fever, on and off, aand loose bowel movement.  This was because my first two teeth are coming out.

7)  On Nov. 30, 1978.  I was given anti-measles vaccine.  After two weeks, I was sick with measles.

= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =

          I had to laugh after reading #7.  That was probably the most ineffective anti-measles vaccination in Philippine history.    There were also no entries after that, which might mean Mama simply got tired of listing down my many sicknesses, which was punctuated by the hilarious (in hindsight) measles event. 

To be continued

Lolo

          My maternal grandfather died last week at the ripe old age of 95.  Since he played only a very little part in my growing up years, I did not find it proper to deliver a eulogy.  Listening to others who did give eulogies, as well as hearing the family stories after the funeral, enabled me to know more about Lolo than I ever did when he was still alive.

          Atty. Franklin S. Guanco was one of the very first lawyers that the province of Leyte has ever produced.  Leyte's Congresman even hosted dinner in a first class restaurant when he and one other Leyteno passed the Bar exams.  I've seen a picture of that event, and it was apparently at a time when lawyers were not yet a dime a dozen as they seem to be now.

          He was the third and youngest child of a Chinese-mestizo family.  His father, Candido, was a very wealthy businessman and the son of a Chinese immigrant named Yu Guan Co who married into a landed Filipino family.  His mother, Sotera, was also half-Chinese.   Lolo was apperently close to his mother who did most of the raising of the three children.  This might be why he viewed it as one of his worst personal tragedies when she died when a boat they were riding on capsized on open sea.  He tried to rescue her and was able to recover her body but she was already lifeless.

          Candido was an absentee father who came home only once a week - he spent a lot of time in opium, gambling and possibly prostitution dens.  I remember Lolo himself telling me that his mother was very patient with his father, even when he was gambling away the family riches (entire rice sacks of money on each trip.)  His father used the entire name "YuGuanCo" as his last name, but lolo was advised by his law professor to shorten it for reasons of brevity.  For some inexplicable reason, he chose "GuanCo" as his surname instead of "Yu" which was culturally more proper.  At that time, the rules on name changes were still not as strict as they are today.

          Like most Filipino families, they were reduced to poverty during the Second World War.  Candido's numerous debtors were not in a position to make payments, and years later denied they even had debts due to the lack of proper documentation of such loans.  These life lessons instilled in Lolo the value of money and was known in the family to be very stingy.  However, he probably had too much of his father in him because he was also known as quite the opposite to his friends and needy neighbors.

          When my mother and her brothers were growing up, they were living in a third class area in Paco, Manila.  My mother remembers the difficulty of asking Lolo for money school projects and house expenses, while every morning, he always makes it a point to give money to neighbors who claim to have no cash to buy rice with.  This had an unintended benefit because no one, not even their most violent neighbors, harassed my mother and her siblings.  They were collectively known as Anak ni Attorney, and were given the same respect that was accorded to Lolo.

          Although Lolo believed in God, he wasn't a particularly religious person.  To him, as long as one believes in God and does good works, one has already fulfilled his obligations to God and man.  In fact, he's an Aglipayan who never formally converted to Catholicism.  But this never stopped him from marrying a Catholic, and raising his children as Catholics.  It's all one to Lolo, and he would have viewed religious debates as a complete waste of time.

          Perhaps because he himself experienced poverty, he was capable of great personal sacrifices.  My mother and her siblings all remember a time when their mother (my grandmother, Celing) was the strict disciplinarian whose methods of punishment would all be considered child abuse today - e.g. hitting, making one kneel on salt or munggo while holding heavy hard-bound law books on each hand, and even hanging one of my uncles by the feet outside the window for all the neighbors to see.  At that time, Lolo was the silent type who was viewed as the welcome respite from Lola's wrath.

          But things changed when lola had her seventh or eighth attack.  She apparently had a heart condition that made her short of breath and consciousness whenever she experienced extreme anger.  The doctor advised her to change the way she deals with her children if she wanted to live longer.  Lolo and Lola had a heart-to-heart talk and from that point onwards, the responsibility of disciplining the children shifted to him and he then came to be known as the strict disciplinarian in the family (though not as sadistic as lola, one of my uncles jokingly added.)  This developed into him being an authoritarian figure who was very difficult to reason with, and who frequently was abrasive with others.  A lot of times he would say things that would come across as insulting to people, and he never apologized for this behavior.  

          As for lola, she began to loosen up and became known as cowboy.  This complete reversal of roles existed until their respective deaths.  I'm now thinking that if things were different, a lot more people would have looked more kindly upon lolo.  As it is, lola was probably the most loved member in the family, and lolo the most "hated", if such a word can possibly be applied in families.  This was probably the greatest thing he did for lola, and it's a pity that most of us grandchildren only knew about this after his death.

          Lolo contracted a particularly virulent type of pneumonia three weeks ago that resulted to him being in and out of the hospital almost non-stop.  A younger person would have been able to recover from such a sickness, but Lolo's 95 year old body simply could not stand up to it anymore.  I guess that makes his death as being due to old age, and not pneumonia.  I had a chance to visit him a few days before he died and it was apparent that he didn't have long to live anymore.  He was very weak, and could no longer speak due to the sickness and the repeated insertion and removal of feeding/suction tubes as part of his treatment.  His handwriting was also already illegible so sign language and eye contact was resorted to just to know what he wanted to express.  

          Throughout his whole ordeal he wanted to do just one thing - he wanted to go home.  He repeatedly expressed his wish in the past to die at his house in Kamias Road, Quezon City.  To this end, he gave the doctors and us a hard time when he would violently remove his tubes and dextrose injections whenever he was told that he needed to stay in the hospital a while longer.  He also kicked, pinched and punched us whenever we told him that he can't go home yet.  When he made signals to me that he wanted to go home, I didn't have the heart to tell him that he can't yet, so I simply pretended that I did not understand him.  

          I do wonder if the family did the right thing in trying to save him.  He was, after all, already 95 years old.  As it turned out, Lolo did not get his last wish, and instead died feeling miserable in a hospital room with just one relative beside him.

          Lolo's funeral was yesterday.  Goodbye Lolo, R.I.P. +

Let's all apologize

Ok, so Fr. Ben Nebres issued an unnecessary apology.  How come we always do the apologizing?  In the past 10 years, the Ateneo is probably the only school that has apologized everytime its players and supporters do something offensive or even just perceived to be offensive.

In 1997, the Ateneo apologized when a member of Babble used a green jacket (that was not even marked "La Salle") to wipe the floor in the half time show.

In 1999, the Ateneo apologized to UST when the game had to be discontinued because everyone was throwing stuff on court - even though it was impossible to ascertain which side started the pelting.

In 2003, LA Tenorio sucker punched La Salle's Gerwin Gaco.  Later on he publicly apologized in front of the Ateneo community, and apologized to Gaco himself in La Salle.

After Game 2 of this season, Nonoy Baclao apologized on television for his act of shouting at Rico Maierhoffer after a particularly humiliating block on the latter.

And most recently, the Ateneo, through Father Ben Nebres, apologized to La Salle for the firewood incident.

= = = = = = = = = =

We've always apologized.  Why only us?  If we are going to be consistent, then let's also demand an apology for the following acts of La Salle players and supporters (as listed by forum denizen atenean_blooded) through the years:

- Pelting our gallery from behind in 2003 after they lost to us. 
- Not properly sanctioning the La Sallite hooligans who attacked Enrico Villanueva, Sonny Tadeo, Andrew Cruz, and Epok Quimpo, from behind, when they lost to us in 2003.
- Not properly sanctioning former DLSU enforcer Rafa Dinglasan after he sucker-punched one of our assistant coaches from behind when they lost in 2003.
- After losing in the 1st round 2004, Joseph Yeo shoving Magnum Membrere away after the latter offered a handshake.
- Coming up with the non-original, sophomoric "burn Ateneans burn" cheer.
- Araña's on-court jig during a game when La Salle was en route to winning.
- The Franz Pumaren-led photo-op during a time-out again during a game that La Salle was en route to winning.
- Manny Salgado hitting Arwind Santos from behind after FEU won the UAAP Championship in 2005.
- Defying the law and fielding ineligible players in 2004, and having the temerity of making the already-banned Manny Salgado the fall guy.
- Bryan Ilad hitting UE's Mark Fampulme from behind.
- Joseph Yeo hitting Enrico Villanueva with a clothesline when the latter was hardly in a position to be able to retaliate.
- LA Revilla's bang-bang antics against FEU's Mac Baracael.
- Pumaren abandoning the national team so that he could coach La Salle, thereby spitting on the value of flag and country.
- The classless blowing of feathers gimmick by the La Salle pep squad.
- Their crowd's cheering during our alma mater hymn in Game 2.
- Their refusal to accept their second place trophy, thereby spitting on the value of sportsmanship.

= = = = = = = = = =

In hindsight, one will realize that it's always a polite and gentlemanly trait to apologize even if one's fault is not duly established.

I guess that's why we've always apologized for every single infraction - imagined or otherwise, while the other school has racked up a veritable rap sheet of unapologized-for offenses.

= = = = = = = = = =

P.S.  I almost forgot.  La Salle should also apologize for unleashing Chokoleit during their Game 2 halftime cheerdance exhibition.

Children were in the audience, fer Chrissakes!   

Now that we are champions again...

It's nice to revisit this blog entry.  

My friend M***y (a plea for help and prayers)

         
          If you were studying in the Ateneo between the years 1995-1998, and used to hang out in the Colayco Hall (specifically the ACMG-Kaingin-LiKaS-Musmos Room), then my friend M***y is most likely your friend too. 

          Most of us fondly remember M***y as a kind and mild-mannered person who is well loved by his circle of friends.  His lack in physical stature is more than made up for by the size of his heart, and his generosity.  At a time when organizers/filofaxes were the rage, he always created colorful and expertly-designed fillers ("M***y Papel") and gave them away to those who would simply ask for it.  He was an industrious FinCom head of LiKaS who went beyond the limits of his job in order to ensure the success of an org activity.  And most of all, he's the friend whom most of us would feel comfortable sharing our personal issues/concerns with.

          It might perhaps be an overstatement to say that M***y is a rock or a bulwark.  But it is true that he is one of the very few things constant at a time when we were all beginning to learn that all things change.  You can always rely on M***y.  He might not necessarily give the best advice, but you can be sure he's there when you need him.

          There is a lot more that I wish to share about M***y, and I'm sure you who also know him have your own fond memories of him.  It is for the sake of these same memories that I'm asking you to read carefully the next paragraphs.

          According to a common friend, M***y began a mental/emotional downward spiral around two years ago, and is exhibiting mildly alarming manifestations.  He rarely goes out and spends a lot of time locked inside his room.  He no longer uses a cellphone, and gives the justification that he supposedly lost his charger.  Whenever someone tries to contact him through landline, more often than not he asks someone else to tell the person that he is not at home or that he is in the shower.  He is unemployed and from what I heard, rarely tries to find work (I might need to double-check on this).  He is frequently moody and has been recently known to mildly berate people who try to shake him out of his self-imposed isolation.

          When I was hearing these details, I found it hard to believe that this was the same M***y that I knew.  I last spent time with him two years back, and he still seemed to be the same M***y of old.  This afternoon, however, was a wake-up call for me because I got to observe first hand how far removed he has become from the person we knew, and how seemingly close he is to the condition that claimed his older brother (who is also my friend).

          October 1 (yesterday) was M***y's birthday and a surprise party was planned for him.  I was there and I eagerly awaited his arrival in the restaurant where reservations were made for the event.  There were around 20 of us friends and relatives there, and we understood that some deceit had to be employed by his eldest brother (a.k.a. "Kuya Pogi") in order to bring him to the party.  We were therefore surprised when Kuya Pogi arrived without M***y.  Apparently, he began to have one of his moods and refused to leave the house for what he thought was a simple family lunch.  The househelp made matters worse by inadvertently revealing that there was a surprise party for him.  This caused M***y to retreat to his room, locking it, and refusing to speak anymore to his eldest brother.

          It was surreal, dining in the restaurant in what was supposed to be a party for him when he is nowhere to be found (and with the knowledge that he specifically refused to join us even if he knew we were already there.)  But we, his friends who were present, didn't give up and we resolved to proceed to M***y's house and possibly force him to face us.  It is a testament to how well-loved M***y is that we unanimously decided to still attempt to express to him directly that we care for him.  We were a mixed group of his friends from high school, college and his former job, and I was apparently the only one who encountered this from M***y for the first time.

          Upon reaching his house, we caught him brushing his teeth.  And he didn't even move his head to acknowledge us.  When he was done, he simply ascended the stairs and again locked himself in his room.  That was very hard for me, seeing him like that.  This was a completely different person from the one I knew.  Some of the females in our group tried to follow him up the stairs to coax him to join us, but they were coldly told by him to stop trying.  To make a long story short, it took some 30 minutes before M***y was finally persuaded to join us. 

         Interestingly, once you get to make him speak, you begin to get the idea that everything is normal again.  He even cracks jokes and responds to people similar to how we remember him.  But a closer look reveals that M***y has lost some of the liveliness that endeared him to us.  He's much colder and aloof.  He often does not look at people when he's talking to them.  On the physical side, he has gained weight, and he no longer sports the "clean cut" look that he had all through college and the years after.

          There are a number of factors that might have brought this about but we will not go into those for now.  What is important is for me to make you aware that this is happening, so that if there's anything that we can do to save our friend, then by all means let us do it.

          Personally, I believe we need express to him in some way that we care, and that we are here for him as much as he was there for us in the past.   However, what makes this particularly difficult is his tendency to shut out everyone and everything else.  He refuses to talk about his present condition, much less acknowledge the fact that he needs professional help.  Everytime someone tries to reach out to him, he immediately retreats and shuts everything out like an armadillo.

          M***y vehemently refuses to see a Psychiatrist due to the tragedy that happened to his late older brother.  Apparently, the latter was given wrong medication for years that made his condition worsen and ultimately led to his suicide.  M***y is not suicidal, and is actually afraid of being one.  But we fear that he might be on the extreme opposite side of things and live out his life being increasingly afraid every day.  This is why I implore anyone who knows an expert who can deal with this difficult type situation (i.e. a situation where someone who needs help does not want to seek help) to offer such expertise to his M***y's family.

          For all the rest, even those who do not know M***y, it probably won't be too much to ask to pray for him so that he won't sink further into his condition.  Thank you.