3 Better Finales for the ‘Forevermore' Soap

I get it.

The romantic comedy drama ‘Forevermore’ about young love, which had blossomed in the cold foggy mountains in Benguet, was a huge hit. For the average Filipino viewer, the show has all the elements of a feel good night treat – beautiful mestizo/mestiza cast,  picturesque setting, the underdog vs. powerful conflict, third parties, and a bit of comic relief (thanks mostly to Bangky and that cute kid). Undeniably, we can’t blame the women in the house and the neighborhood for usurping the television every night, to the men’s errr... ‘prejudice’.

With all the anticipation of a promised great ending, the drama finale, unfortunately, turned out to be no more than a corny, half-baked, and poorly written script to convince us that the “forevermore” title was justified in the end. “That’s it?” the young kid in our neighborhood mused. Yup, Xander shouts “may forever pala!” and automatically there is forever. Somehow, it felt forced.

The favorite hobby of most men when women watch soap operas is to pester them; give common predictions, criticize the characters’ sloppy lines, point out errors in the story line continuity – it is in this moments that men shine to momentarily become art and TV show critics, philosophers, and what have you, all to convince the women to switch the channel to the NBA highlights.

Fortunately or unfortunately, we watched most or some parts of it, and we can only imagine alternative endings that will save the story in our minds. Here are three better (or perhaps outrageous) finales (at least for the average guy) for the undoubtedly successful and engrossing show:

1.    Xander and Alex (Erich) got married and had babies, while Agnes went on to have a family of her own and successful career in Japan.

-          After 30 years or so, they will unexpectedly meet each other in La Presa (with older faces and talk about the places they’ve been…yup, that ‘maybe this time’ song haha). They won’t rekindle their romance, however, since they already have families of their own. But they do talk for the longest time, reminiscing the past (with flashback effects). Then, they part ways without glancing back and realize (maybe through narration) that what they “had” many years ago is pure love and will never fade ‘forevermore’.

2.    Xander and the La Presa people found out that the drained water-supply was caused by a certain politician who excavated a whole mountain, violence erupted and Xander died protecting Agnes.

-          I’m not a bit happy for how the writers seem to have defended an environmental rapist. The least that they could’ve done is to show the importance of watersheds in relation to the water supply. Maybe, connect them somehow to the soap villains as conspirators to the crime. The hoodlums of the politician drove them away with violence (just like the real news), and superman (Xander) is there for the rescue, sacrificing his life to protect Agnes. After 30 years, a married Agnes visits Xander’s grave admitting that her love for him will always be there. That, it is true love ‘forevermore’.

3.    Agnes lost her memory in an accident in the forest. From then, Xander spends forevermore loving, and reminding her that their love is forever.

-          Agnes who got lost in the forest (ironically) hit her head and wandered around without memory. She was later found by Xander and the La Presa people unconscious. The damage was done, she suffers from anterograde amnesia (like the 50 first date movie) waking up every day thinking that Xander betrayed her. Of course, Xander will spend forever convincing and showing Agnes that he really loves her ‘forevermore’.

Anyone who have read or watched a Nicholas Sparks’ work would understand what I am driving in to. Sometimes, tragedy can romanticize everything. Sometimes, loss and misery can make stories more realistic and beautiful.

However I also understand why most TV soaps would not dare to have any of these as their finale. Maybe it is not that the scriptwriters lack talent, but maybe they are only giving what the population want – a fairytale ending where the protagonists live happily ever after and villains go to jail.

For the common Filipino people, there is already too much drama, loss, and tragedy in their real lives, too much bad news in the media, too much stress and pressure in work, and to pile more to their psyche may bury them to depression. They need a happy convenient ending, regardless of how senseless it will be, because most of the time  they only turn the box for one thing --- to make them feel better.

__________________________________:)___________________________________

The Ibaloy Studies Conference: The Ibaloy today

(Our Tourism policy is more than numbers that help generate employment and pump the economy but also includes the preservation of culture and heritage. That is why I am fortunate to have been given the opportunity to attend seminars and conferences that are related to our functions such as this recently held Ibaloy Studies Conference at UP Baguio on April 24-25).

“That’s a very difficult question.” Dr. Julie Camdas-Cabato, sighed not knowing that the inquisitive person in front of her is one of the many babies she ushered to this world via caesarian section.

Dr. Cabato’s story of the “vanishing Ibaloys of Baguio City” echoes the many fears of the Ibaloys in this age – the displacing of its people, the fading of its culture, and the losing of its identity. As many queries piled the hall, I was compelled to stand up and address the room’s white elephant after a UP professor’s “profound” and “extremely important” inquiry about the “color of the butato (fireflies)”.

“How do we, the multi-cultural children- the one-halves, and one fourths, address our identity? What is the implication of being a multi-cultural child in the Ibaloy’s advocacy of cultural preservation?” I nervously raised.

“That is indeed a very difficult question” The questions actually broke the room- each participant looking side and up, asking the ceiling the same thing.

There was no answer.

Earlier, messages were given asking the obvious question: “Who are the Ibaloys?” Benguet Gov. Fongwan, who admitted that he has no Ibaloy blood but can speak fluent Ibaloy, shared that he is considered by many as one of them simply because he lived as an Ibaloy, and speaks the Ibaloi Language. (“He looks and sounds like a chicken, therefore he must be a chicken”).

Does that mean that those who do not know how to speak Ibaloi, despite having Ibaloy parents, like most from the fifth and perhaps, sixth generation, are not considered Ibaloys?  Is being an Ibaloy by blood? Or by cultural orientation (as being able to speak Ibaloi)? Although I understood that Anthropological researchers use the language to sort human groups, I still felt unconvinced.

NCIP Commissioner Zenaida Hamada-Pawid (a one-half, one- fourth herself) answered my query in three parts. She started her story by recalling her experience as a young Anthropology professor of UP who is tracing her ancestry by collecting the genealogy of the five biggest clans of Benguet villages. What she and other researchers found out was that all of the people in the southern Cordillera can trace their roots to only one people – the Kalanguyas (Ikalahans), a distinct sub-group of the Ifugaos.

The Kalanguyas (from “Keley ngoy iya” a term used to pacify misunderstandings), in turn, are blood brothers of many different ethnic groups, not only from the Cordillera region, but also of the people of Region I and II. “Enshi nai-afafil” I smirked.

If we go deeper, we will find out that our different tribes in the Cordillera region belong to the same Austronesian Peoples in Southeast Asia and Oceania. This means that we belong to the same family with the Taiwanese aborigines; the majority ethnic groups of Malaysia, East Timor, Indonesia, Brunei, Madagascar, Micronesia, and Polynesia, as well as the Polynesian peoples of New Zealand and Hawaii, and the non-Papuan people of Melanesia, the minorities of Singapore where Malay is an indigenous language, the Pattani region of Thailand, and the Cham areas in Vietnam, Cambodia, and Hainan.

“What irks me is the different organizations, including that Bangsamoro, who insist that they are different (perhaps superior?) groups when they belong to the same group of people” She said strongly. “Even without discussing the cultural and social matrix however, we are one people because of our common activities – pasturing, agriculture, forestry and mining.” These activities, she explained are protected by the Indigenous Peoples themselves suggesting that said activities taught them to become very much protective of their land and resources.

“So how can the young Ibaloy today understand how is it to become an Ibaloy of the past?” She asked. “The Ibaloy is a culture and people in constant change….they are not frozen in time”

“But if you want to know the core value of the Ibaloys, go ask the Ibaloys who perished in the Battle of Tonglo at Lumtang (Lamtang). Our ancestors who spent 300 years of fighting to protect our ownership of our lands, properties, and resources.” She almost shouted. “The Ibaloys are strong and empowered!”

The room almost became somber. For some of the Ibaloys who are there, the obvious implication of her last lines hit them like a brick. “Have we protected our ownership of our land and resources?” They must have muttered. Perhaps, our ancestors must be rolling on their graves screaming that “the real Ibaloys are those who have protected the lands of their ancestors!”

************

My late Father, Alberto Ingosan Olsim Jr., descended from the Ingosan-Gabol Clan of Irisan, Baguio City who can trace their roots to Ahin (Buguias) and Kabayan, and the Olsim and Bacquian clan of Buguias, Benguet. He is a “Kanibal”(Kankana-ey – Ibaloy). He, however, grew up in Mt. Province because of his father’s choice to farm at nearby Bauko and Sabangan, Mt. Province.

It is a different case with my Mother, Marcelina Dulay Elwas, who is predominantly a “Bontokis” from Sabangan and, Samoki, Can-eo, and Gonogon, Bontoc, Mt. Province. She, however, grew up in an Ibaloy mining village at Itogon, Benguet where she lived and spoke like a true blue Ibaloy.

This (comically) means that I have an i-Benguet father who grew up in Mt. Province, and a Mt. Province mother who grew up in Benguet.

I was born in Baguio City, and raised in La Trinidad, Benguet. I lived in a multi-cultural neighborhood who uses the Cordillera region’s “neutral” language – the “Ilokano”, or perhaps our washed out version of it. Our parents did not use the Kankana-ey or Ibaloy language in our home, just like many parents today.

Growing up, however, I saw how the two tribes treat each other with contempt - the Ibaloys thinking that other groups have robbed them of their lands, and the other groups blaming the Ibaloys for selling hectares of it. In one record, my Ibaloy side,the Ingosan and Gabol, who are two of the major clans of Baguio City, sold their lots at Irisan to Manila developers. Such event at Irisan served as the microcosm of how Baguio City had turned out to be.

The attitude of Benguet versus Mt. Province, or the Ibaloys vs. the "Bontokis" is visible in schools, in the workplace,and even in news columns like Midland's Opposite Direction by Atty. Benny Carantes where he constantly viewed the "Bontokis" as carpet baggers, and his fellow Ibaloys as threats to other Ibaloys. 

Many writers blamed the division of the Ibaloys to the conscious machinations of powerful people in the past. The division of barangays to divide the Ibaloy clans (and subdue them), and the unfair politics of this date. Come to think of it, there has never been an Ibaloy mayor of Baguio City.

Such conflicting scenario, taught me to become indifferent with my cultural identity. "Why can't we just say that we are humans who breath the same air, and drink the same water?" I contemplated as a young kid. For a 90s kid immersed in the global pop culture, I never really cared...until today.

******************

So, how do we, the part Ibaloys, address our identity, especially in the Ibaloy’s call for cultural preservation in this modern multi-cultural society? Does it mean that I have to marry an Ibaloy girl to ‘promote and continue the blood line’? Does it mean that we have to ban the entry of the “Bontokis” or other cultural groups?  How can I compromise the preservation of the different cultures that I belong too (which are equally wonderful)?

For us hybrids, we can only imagine in our silence.

In this multi-cultural generation in which the young Ibaloys have learned to love without the issue of tribe, language, or colors, they will barely understand the importance of their Ibaloy culture and identity, or feel what is it to become an Ibaloy.

They can only learn the cultural tools, perhaps, the constructs; the language, and the dances. They can only wear their names and their ethnic costumes. But beyond that, they have changed... just like this ever-changing world.

************

Mt. Yangbew, La Trinidad

The last stop of the first "Valentines in the Valley" tour package is none other than the breath-taking little Mt. Pulag in the highly-urbanized town. Mt. Yangbew, or "Jambo"/"Jumbo" for others is a place for scout Jamborees during the American period (hence the name 'jambo'). During those times,however, the people in the community pronounced it as "yangbo" which sticked up to this date. 

Recently in a meeting, however,  the Brgy. Tawang officials with many old-timers and community leaders, finally agreed that it should be called "MT. YANGBEW", not Jumbo, not Jambo, not Yangbo, as voted upon majority of its elders and local historians. "Bew/Beo" came from the kankana-ey "Le-beew" or fog (Apparently, although the Ibaloys originally inhabited the valley plains, the mountain areas are mostly occupied by the kankanaeys). The name means "where fog/cloud resides", as opposed to the other suggestion of "Jambo" for Jamboree. 

Here are some pictures of the tour!

A view of the city lights

Goodnight campers!

La Trinidad Tourism: "Where are we now, and where are we going"

The future is colorful for La Trinidad tourism J. After so many years, the municipality will finally adopt a tourism plan for 2015-2019 that will guide our legislators and implementers in making La Trinidad a distinct and exciting destination in the country (as an Agri-eco-cultural destination). Great credit goes to the DOT-CAR’s assistance, the participation of all the members of the Tourism Council from various sectors, and of course, the present administration’s relentless passion towards tourism investment and development.

What made us more proud, as one of those who participated in the tourism planning months ago, is the adoption of our group’s brand slogan which features our tourism brand essence for La Trinidad: “Valley of Colors” The slogan, initially drawn from our distinct tourism products of strawberries, cut flowers, coffee, and vegetables, finally serves as both inspiration, and challenge, not just to the town’s officials, but also to every soul in our community – how can we sustain such claim? How can we really make a “colorful” La Trinidad for our tourists? Can our town keep up with such kind of tourism promotion and marketing? Are our existing  infrastructures and accommodations ready for it?

If these thoughts cross you, then that is cheerfully the first step towards cultivating a tourism conscious community. Tourism consciousness is a culture treasured by communities who see tourism as a valuable opportunity for economic growth. Palawan and Sagada, for instance, have this culture; residents regulate themselves and maintain cleanliness and orderliness because they have a decent and holistic view of the tourism systems. “If I throw my waste here, our tourist spot will become dirty and no tourist will come anymore…it means my parents won’t have customers and they won’t be able to pay taxes that our government will use for projects that will help us” a 7 year old-child in Sagada answered when I inquired about their regular cleaning-activities.

For many urbanizing towns, this consciousness may slowly expire: “We don’t have to invest on tourism since we have schools, banks, and other establishments that can sustain our local economy” said a friend in one unforgiving debate, “trumapik lang ti turista”. Although he has a point, such naive outlook is not only backward, but also conceited – it only proves that we lack a tourism conscious culture. Tourism, the activity of travelling and staying in a certain place, is not only an economic phenomenon but also a social and cultural one. It involves most part of communities’ lives – can we imagine our place without a single visitor? What lasting impression do we want our tourists or visitors to have upon their visit to our town? What “experiences” do we want them to have from our place?

For a long time, La Trinidad, although it had successfully penetrated the market of tourism products, has yet to substantially invest in projects that will improve its destination-based tourism aspect. “It’s all in the pipe…the tourism plan is the start...” our Mayor Tabanda assured me. I sincerely believe her.

Partnerships, unity and cooperation are the keys. We need a united and collective consciousness that puts the community first before any other interests. Nothing can go wrong when everyone dreams the same thing, when we all want to go in the same direction…when we all want to be living in a Valley of colors - alive with peaceful and loving diversity, thriving in vibrant cultures, and imbued with dynamism and environmental consciousness.

Others, perhaps, are initiative and volunteerism. In most developed countries, most events-based tourism (and even destination-based) are initiated and developed by the private sector( like Macy’s parade of New York by the privately owned store-chain). Or even as practiced locally, the private sector (like the academe, business people etc.) support for the tourism industry of Baguio City; UC, for instance, donated millions-worth Burnham master plan as a gift to the city and the people of Baguio, and SLU initiates the city’s Lantern Parade, something that boosts the city tourism’s year of events, business people organized themselves (like the HRAB) for better tourism services. Even in my visits to other provinces with successful tourism values, it is the private sector which develops (even donates) parks and attractions for the community's and tourists' enjoyable experience.

In La Trinidad? Hmmmm. We have a lot of work to do. Perhaps all sectors must finally set aside pretexts in community development (including its tourism aspect), to really propel our town to better heights. As i-La Trinidad people who have stake in our own town’s tourism industry, the ball is now in our hands in a dying second to make a goal. With everyone's support, I really believe that we can score on this one. J

(The Tourism Plan Presentation will be posted soon. Happy New Year to all :)

****

In my past work, I have learned to become abreast with the legislative developments of our town just in case I ever need to be professionally prepared. Hence, I have known of the 2011 Municipal Tourism Officer Ordinance years ago even before its posting last year. In preparation for it, I have been acquiring significant trainings and eligibilities which include Diploma in Tourism Studies, and NC-II Tour Guiding Services, among others, although the ordinance specifically includes Bachelor of Laws, and Communication courses among the qualifying degrees (which is already in my line).

Contrary to some opinions, my decision came, not from a spur of a moment, but of months and nights of mental anguish in decision-making. What are the chances? What if the appointing power did not like me? What if the hiring was postponed? What if I have taken the job opportunity abroad? Sometimes, ‘fate’ or destiny (and even accident) is a combination of many things; preparation,insane luck,perfect timing, choice, and guts. Hopefully, this new year, our proposals, planning, and actions will assist our tourism status to greater grounds. (Scary..Wish us luck nyayy!!J)

Kalinga Tour

From time to time, tourism officers are invited in tourism package/products launching, especially when it is in-line with DOT's One-Step Tourism project - a convergence program which aims to include and promote less affluent communities or destinations in the tourism value chain. This program provides for more direct interventions which will create jobs and economic opportunities, benefit the poor, and ultimately,  uplift rural communities. A week ago, we were lucky to be included in the launching of the "Naneng Community Life Tour", a promotional tour for  Kalinga's Tour circuit.

We had a nine-hour travel to Tabuk City, Kalinga via Bokod, Benguet, and arrived at the Grand Zion Garden Resort for a sumptuous dinner hosted by Tabuk City's tourism council.The next day , we went to Talama viewdeck to enjoy a view of the  Tabuk valley. Somehow, it reminds me of the old La Trinidad - untouched by the urbanization sprawl.

Chico River flows from Mt. Province to Kalinga

We proceeded to Naneng Village for the promotional life tour. Upon our arrival we were gleefully welcomed by the children of the village in full traditional costume, and their tal-talak (wooden race car), and guided by Kalinga beauties like Ms. Angel (below)  :).

Kalinga Beauty

The Heritage Village of Naneng

Hospitable folks of the village

The villagers also treated us with what they are mostly known for: the Inandila. The people of Naneng serves this special traditional rice cake in various occasions. In fact, they celebrate the Inandila Festival annually in March. This distinct and indigenous rice cake is methodically made as a family affair in a tradition of togetherness (symbolized by the sticky texture of the treat).

Inandila with Coffee is majestic!

We had a picnic lunch. A real 'heavy' lunch with native cuisine. This is included in their P350 tour package.

Dawwang Cold Spring

One can also mingle with the locals and learn from their culture. We passed by their weaving house which showcases the most colorful weaving patterns of the Cordilleras.

After the Naneng Tour, we had a side trip to Tabuk's Golden Berries Hotel and Kalinga Brew Office. Coffee is the One-Town-One Product of Kalinga. (The coffee aroma alone is a winner!)

 

A side tour to Lammawin Farm house with his "basi" (sugar cane wine) production.

The next day, we went to Tamingan, the jump-off point of the Chico river Whitewater rafting of Kalinga. It is a 2-3 hour wild water adventure which will  pass by the Naneng community among others. We had an unforgettable experience - from a capsized raft, to an emergency rescue.

 For more information about the Whitewater rafting experience, interested people may check their website @: http://www.chicoriverquest.com/ or their facebook page (Chico river Quest).

Those are the faces of excitement and happiness guys. 

Sometimes we need an all-out adrenaline rush from the rapids of waters like the mighty Chico river! The experience ends with yet another heavy lunch picnic at Dalimuno drop-off point. We had a great time!

The Sebastian Lumawig Series: Chapter 2

Chapter 2

There was that familiar stillness in the room.  That stillness, which only she can recognize; no sound except that monotonous mutiny of the computer to that poised room, and that muffled traffic sound which had successfully infiltrated the thick walls of that old building. It was nine o’clock in the morning, and her boss had left the workplace before he even started the day work. It was, after all, his employer’s day of golf. Or maybe not, his face is painted with an irritating grin when he left her. "He is here again.." she remembered him whispering such a couple of times. 

She clicked at the save button and slumped her upper body against the office chair. She is 27 years old, but she looked older. Working for twelve hours a day and six days a week had evidently taken its toll on her. She decided to watch Youtube videos while his boss is away. She immediately clicked on a link of a video, and she smiled after watching minutes of it: "Wow, a baby answering math problems!" he thought. Then she clicked at the link of amazing video of a furry cat. "When the cat is away..." she sighed.

__________________________

Atty. Jansen Michael Madrigal, M.D. MA, MS, Ph.D, and what have you, left his office early to meet who he thought would unlock the mystery of the world. He's jittery, cold, and struggling for air. This kind of excitement only happened twice in his life; first when he found out that he is finally going to be a father, and second, when he topped the country's bar examinations. The anticipation for something big and his heightened sensibility for such has guided all his life decisions. He is up to something and he knew it. He played with his chin as he recalled the summer of 1999 when he first met the highlander star kid. Psychologist JM Madrigal then, took the entire day for an sixth-grader who claims to be living a second life, his father dead-worried looked tired and gray to look forty.

"When did he start the...hmmm...claims..of having lived another life?

"Ahh...since he was about four or five....but, he would dismiss it himself and pretend that he just said some non-sense...when he grew older..it became...uhmmm....worse.." The father looked at his son intently obviously struggling to hold his floodgates.

"Doctor.." The child interrupted. "It maybe hard to believe, but it is true. I felt that I have..had...another life. As I grow older, I remember memories from my past life...or lives."

" How is that?" Dr. Madrigal patiently asked while mentally constructing a diagnosis to tell this child's dad. After all, a child can make up incredible stories to cope up with existing realities. Is the child being physically abused? Being bullied? He unconsciously searched for suspicious marks to no avail.

"You do not believe me...Just like everyone else...you may think I am crazy, but it is true. There were studies of it I swear: Earlier this year's work of Tom Shroder, or the many US journals releases of the years second quarter...Or do you believe in any religion sir? Most of it mentions reincarnation and transmigration. Do you believe in that sir?

Dr. Madrigal was extremely amazed by the child's manner of expression. As if he was an adult encased in a twelve-year old's body. This was a first for him.

(under construction :)

The Sebastian Lumawig Series: "Old Soul" (Chapter 1)

I just lost my manuscript of 17 chapters (my months of labor and research). This chapter, which I sent to my own e-mail, is the only piece of it that I managed to retrieve. This is a reminder of the impermanence of things in this world. So, before things will get lost again, I decided to share it. Enjoy a piece of my novel. :)
_________________________________________________________________________

Sebastian Lumawig Series: "Old Soul"

Chapter 1

In seat 27, the cloud of existential ponderings caught the reflections in the glass window again. Slowly, those thoughts were drowned away as the bus passes by along the thirty-sixth streetlight. Another village just faded away.

An hour ago, he had deliberately walked along Session Road after stopping the meters at Maharlika Livelihood Complex. His bus won’t be ready until 1 a.m., that’s why he decided to walk.

The city rarely sleeps. The dark blanket cannot hide that buzzing energy of a constantly growing city – the night market thrives, and the drunks populate the sidewalks. How he missed that life.

In college, they ruled Assumption Road as young, confused, and highly intoxicated teens…too much energy, but nowhere to put it into. Until, they realized that they are really at the brink of wasting away their lives. Perhaps, the sin of most of the youth was their delusion that they are living the rock and roll life. The laid-back culture, born from television shows and internet fads has taught them credulous young generation to experience the high of this material world without any remorse. There is really no doubt about it: ‘Everyone wants to be a Rock star.’

He was 16 when he had his first taste of gin.  At first, he did it to impress some friends, but finally ended up using it to run away. Drinking is indeed an escape to another world – free from the agony of life’s pains, frustrations and disappointments…the tiring norm of life and the stress of everyday. And although it is not surprising at all that most of us would rather be intoxicated than to face the realities of life - the corrupted world, the angry parents, the strict teachers, the broken love life, or even the irritating neighbor -  Sebastian, or “Basty” as he was often called, escaped not away from the world, but from himself.

*****

The middle-aged passenger of Seat 34 had covered his face with a towel. An air-conditioned bus in a cold city is apparently the trend. But it is a six hour trip, and after a few more swerves down, the moist in the windows will dry up as the temperature rises.

Little by little, he started doing a better job in learning a balancing crash course. Rarely can one catch a nap under such circumstance. It is a feat that he had planned to achieve before the first bus stop. But the fates, may have had a different plan – to bury him into useless contemplation of his yesterdays.

******

In November 2, 1997, MENSA International, an organization which records geniuses, confirmed an unusual growing number of child geniuses in the last decade. World media was able to reveal startling discoveries of a number of child-prodigies and highly intelligent and exceptional children; of two-year olds reading adult books, of four-year olds speaking twelve different languages or playing the most complex musical scores, of six-year olds offering philosophical counter-proposition against the ideas of established thinkers, or re-structuring formulas of math and physics, of eight-year old inventors, and of teen-agers writing excellent novels which, supposedly, only a man of age, experience, and great wisdom can achieve.

Because such unusual occurrence has inspired the usual religious hysteria that the end of the world is near…again, or that those innocent kids are allegedly sent by the devil, Dr. Shan D. Parker, the President of the organization, obviously not amused, embarked on a research that is intended to settle the minds of the paranoid religious figures of the different continents. After three years of research, the team concluded that the phenomenon is likely a result of the information explosion of the new age. Of course, many did not believe this. Dr. Parker himself doubted this. But the world must move on.

Towards the hyped-millennium, it did not take long for the world to forget this happening. There is so much cheap news; Hollywood and local gossips, political scandals, and day to day BS for most people to take account of it, nor inquire further about it. Besides, ‘this’ will not affect their lives.

In 2007, an intriguing old video from February 7, 1989 surfaced from Youtube, the video sharing website. It featured a toothless baby, about seven months or less, with a couple of adults who are presumably his parents.

In the video, it started with the man, perhaps his father, interrogating his endearing son.

“ Basti, are you okay?”

“Mam mam mam”, the baby replied.

“Okay, Basti. I’m going to ask you questions and you will answer “Daa” if yes, and “Hoo” if no, ok? I repeat “Daa” if yes, and “Hoo” if no…okay?”

“Daa!” shouted the baby to the laughter of the couple. The woman took the teether away from the infants grip. The baby understood that playtime is over.

“Basti…am I your father?”

“Daa!”

“Am I Handsome?”

“Hooooo!” the baby giggled at his own answer, and the adults laughed harder.

“ Okay Basti, this is more challenging…” The male adult pointed at the wall clock and asked, “ Is it 7 o’clock?” The parent rolled his realizing that he asked a dumb question..

“Hoo!....Da-da-da-da-da-daaa!”

“What?” The father looked comical than surprised. The clock shows that it is six o’clock.

“Da-da-da-da- da-daaa!”

The color of the adults’ faces  were immediately  drained. Six “das” may not be a coincidence.

“Basti… one plus one?” The woman quickly experimented.

“Da-da”

“Two plus one?”

“Da---da---da..” the baby almost sneered.

“Three plus two?”

“Da-da-da-da—daaa!” The baby victoriously stood in his walker.

“Basti….how many is One hundred divided by fifty?”

“Da—daa” the baby raised his two-fingers resembling a peace sign.

The astonished adults continued and the baby proceeded to give amazingly perfect answers. The video went on for fifteen minutes, and it soon became an internet hit, gaining millions of views from internet users around the world. And although a few skeptics have challenged the authenticity of the act, the video inspired other exceptional baby videos to be uploaded and soon, the 1997 MENSA report was resurrected. The traditional and the new media went crazier. (The end of the world is really near!)

 ________________________________________________________________________

The scent of the lowlands is undeniably inviting. The red bus parked at the gas station near a restaurant – the first bus stop is at La Union. The area was dusty, old, and the smother of rust in the structures had only enhanced the eerie feeling of being transported into an older time - without a calendar, it would feel like the nineties. But, the big lighted “V” and that, zen-architecture design of the comfort rooms can pull one back to the present world. Who puts black stones below the sink for design and art?

But he loved that feeling. It is simply ‘familiar’ to him. Maybe he can retire here somewhere along a good beach and spend his last years laying in a hammock with a young wife who will enjoy the properties he will ultimately leave after he dies. Life is wickedly predictable and boring.

He unhurriedly pulled out his wallet and examined its remaining bills. ‘Five hundred peso bus ticket, a hundred for the taxi cab, a hundred for Jolibee….’, he accounted for everything in his head and realized that he must have spent five hundred last night at the G-string bar for a beer. He may have even told the waiter to keep his change.

At twenty seven, he only has about P 32,000 in his ATM account. No savings, no car, no wife, and no direction. If his father is alive, he would have desired to go back to his death bed at such pathetic sight. But, he treasured the moments with his father more than he would consciously admit. One of those moments was his first bus ride with his father in 1999 when he was 12 years old. It will always be the greatest adventure in his life.

But, he knew in him that his father is only one of his 'fathers'. At least his dad is the only one he remembers. He knew that...even when no one believes in him.

"An old soul...that expression, because we knew, we feel..that deep inside of us that we have 'jumped',...traveled….From decades, even centuries. I recognize things, and try to remember...I tell myself that 'its as if I've have seen things before, that they are familiar..that I was here a long time ago..', that scary sense of familiarity...because I knew!"  ” He cried telling these to his parents when he was younger, but they just smiled. “Your bad dreams will soon  go away…” they said kissing his forehead.

He really wished that all of it will go away. He had fried his brains many times to do it. But he later discovered that all the memories lost in infancy (which only a few special people can recover) is sadly, only a tiny portion of what he acquires everyday. 

Who knows? Who dares to? The world leaves questions and gives no clue.

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