Karate kid.

There was a group of American tourists, a woman who was sitting beside me and two kids who were standing in front of me, in the train this morning.

American woman to the kid: “Hey, move a little. Give him (me) some personal space. We wouldn’t want a Karate chop from him.”

Kid: “Careful mom, he might understand English.”

Oh, the youth of today.

I really don’t know what to make of this picture:

Meanwhile, in Indonesia, there’s this two-year old toddler who learned to smoke at age 18 (months) and is now addicted to nicotine. No shit. Check him out here.

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Thanks to the TNL Blog.

Righting one very serious wrong.

 UPDATED May 12, 2010

 The response to my last blog entry narrating the harrowing experience of my mother in the hands of abusive and extortionist police officers “Allan” and “Mario Palic” was overwhelming. Within twenty-four hours after I first published the said entry, around 2,000 people have read the article. Several people have blogged, tweeted and Facebooked our story while two mainstream media columnists, Rey Arcilla and Ellen Tordesillas of Malaya, ran it in their columns. We are really very thankful.

Based on the comments I’ve got, my mother’s case is not an isolated one. Hulidap– or arresting to extort– is indeed a common modus operandi of many police officers. Apparently, Police Station 3 in Barangay Talipapa, Novaliches, Quezon City in particular, has a notorious hulidap record.

I e-mailed the Philippine National Police and the National Police Commission, asking them to advise us on the steps we should take against these abusive officers. Neither agencies were helpful. PNP only referred us to their on-line telephone directory, perhaps forgetting that we are not in Manila and it is difficult for us to make calls. Napolcom, on the other hand, only asked why my mom did not file complaints earlier. Here is their reply to my e-mail:

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Arbitrary detention and extortion of my mom by officers of Police Station Number 3 in Barangay Talipapa, Novaliches, Quezon City

UPDATED, Wednesday April 28, 2010

When my mother went to the Philippines to attend the graduation ceremony of my sister and to seek the opinion of Filipino doctors on her mild cancer two weeks ago, she had no idea she was in for the shock of her life.

Last April 14, my mother went to visit a friend named Janet who lives in a slum area in Tandang Sora, Quezon City. That friend owes my mother some thousands, which my mother decided to collect because she needs money for her medication. My mother was accompanied by an old friend, Maximo Gabriel.

At around twelve noon, just when my mother and Gabriel were about to leave Janet’s place, two plain-clothed policemen- one called Allan and another named Mar Palic- approached them, accusing them of drug possession. My mother and her friends aghastly denied this, and before the two cops could search them they showed their bags to the police officers and emptied their pockets to show that there was nothing incriminating inside. Still, the cops “invited” them for questioning. 

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Swine Flu.

During the communion at the church last Sunday, the priest refused to put the host on my tongue; he insisted that I take it by my hand. When I asked why, he smiled and said: “It’s the influenza, my child.”

That was the first time that I realized how real the threat of this “swine influenza” (or the H1N1 virus) actually is. And how the precautions that the government says it is taking is anything but reassuring.

The first reported case of the H1N1 virus infection here in Japan occured last week when Health officials confined infected Japanese students who arrived at the Narita Airport in Chiba from a field trip in Canada at a nearby hospital. The government claimed that the fact that they were spotted at the airport and treated immediately proved that the quarantine measures being implemented at different ports of entries are reliable.

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An unsolicited advice from the Dean.

Dean Reynaldo Arcilla saw me this morning. And he had this to say:

“I know you’re barely out of teens, but you should make yourself neat and presentable. You should look like a young diplomat.”

And the good ambassador continued: “I don’t like your hairstyle. Change it.”

Oh dear. What’s wrong with my hairstyle?

I’m such a dork.

This photo of me and my fellow Lyceum debaters in Davao is now the most commented picture in my Facebook album:

The first to post a comment was Ryan, who said Ira looks like Tyra Banks in this picture. Barny disagreed, saying he’s like Angelina Jolie. And a string of comments followed mentioning people like Wilma Doesn’t, Miss Jay Alexander and Janice Dickinson.

And I was like, who the heck are those people?!

A freakin’ virgin?

Here’s a rather funny IM conversation I just had with Lv:
J: btw
J: did u know
J: nice used to mean stupid in english?
lv: what do you mean? like, as a euphimism or something? excuse my spelling, i’m a bee bimbo
J: its the literal meaning
J: nice was stupid
J: but it evolved and became, well, nice
lv: another one of your boring trivia
J: nyahahah read that from a newspaper
J: theres a column in japan times called word detective
J: where readers ask the guy about a words etymology
J: hehehe intresting
lv: it’s so hard to feign interest right now
J: why?
lv: cause the topic is just too lame!!!!!
J: LOL
lv: word etymology???? come on????
J: its not
J: i find it cool
lv: jeez, no wonder you’re like a freakin virgin

I’m like what?! 

LOL If she only knew.  

Turning twenty.

It’s official. I’m no longer a teen.

 I just turned two decades old.  

How to get a student visa in The Philippines.

Want to study here in The Philippines? Need a student’s visa? Here’s how to get one: 

Step 1: Get a medical check-up with obnoxious sons of a bitch at the Bureau of Quarantine in Manila’s Port area. The office opens at around nine. But be sure you don’t arrive on time, else they’ll make you wait outside.

Step 2: Go back to that Bureau and get your results a day after.

Step 3: Go to the Bureau of Immigration main building’s third floor in Intramuros and ask where to get a NICA clearance. Be prepared to be yelled at. 

Step 4: Go inside the office and wait for the old man to finish watching a portion of Eat Bulaga and find where his scissor is (and this takes around three minutes) before he gives you the application form.

Step 5: After two weeks, go back to Bureau of Immigration and be yelled at again by another obnoxious bitch who looks a bit like Malol Fernandez and get the NICA clearance. 

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