edmeligindustanwrites

Ms. Philippines at the 2010 Miss Universe Pageant

2010-08-24T11:20:00.000-07:00

My wife and I thought that Ms. Raj, the 22-year old Bicolana beauty, would bring the bacon home. She was the only Asian in the finals and oozed with confidence and grace as she walked down to represent the Philippines at the 2010 Miss Universe Pageant at the Mandalay Bay Resort and Casino in Las Vegas last night. Until at the very end...my heart sunk!

The question and answer section was a bummer. The question was about a major mistake in her life and her action to make the wrong right. Her answer mentioned her 'morally-right' upbringing and thanked her family, but never addressed the actor's (William Baldwin)question well. BUMMER! And down her big score. The rating meter has swung, most probably to zero. To my wife, it was an acceptable answer. To me, it wasn't and I felt bad about it. To me, it was a time when a diamond-studded crown and scepter turned into a mere withering bouquet. And it sure was. Miss Philippines was named the fourth runner-up. Miss Mexico got the Miss Universe title.

Human as we are, we have committed mistakes in our lives. Maybe that mistake did not lead to a police blotter, but, at least, there was something in our 22 years in life that, at our own personal or subjective point of view, is major. Cheating in class is a major offense to me personally, but is trivial to others. Lying is... to me; but is nothing to others. Ms. Raj answer created a smirk and interpreted probably as a "holier-than-thou" attitude, a negative effect to an inner beauty and sharpness of mind.

"Was Ms. Raj's answer a reflection of who we are or what our training is?" My mind wandered as I drove to the gym for my 11 pm workout. The Miss Philippines response brought my memories back to my time when I taught graduate students at the Philippine Normal University.

A Christmas Poem & A Nostalgic Christmas

2009-12-12T07:40:00.000-08:00

MERRY CHRISTMAS
(A Shakespearean sonnet in Acrostic)

Melodious carols playing in the air.
Exciting lights that make the world so bright
Rekindling hope for those in need of care
Rejoice! It’s Christmas! Show your heart’s delight.

Yes, yuletide’s here, let’s raise our voices high.
Christ’s birth proclaimed, ye, people of goodwill.
Hear ye, oh people, sadness you’d get by.
Rejoice! It’s Christmas! New hope to unveil!

In times like this some need a little aid.
Show them some love, portray the love of God.
The joy you’d feel so dear you won’t dare trade.
Must do this deed in truth, not just façade!

Ah, Christmas is the time to share and cheer
So share it now and all throughout the year.

NOSTALGIA: Dreaming of a WILD and SMOKEY Christmas
Edmund Melig Industan

Well, the concert of the Fil-Am Symphony Orchestra (FASO), under the baton of Maestro Robert Shroder is over. My mouth was opened almost through out the program as I listened while they stringed and drummed the heavenly Handel's Messiah, and joyously accompanied a Filipino chorus and children's choir as they sang Pinoy and other universally known Christmas carols in a concert at Pasadena Convention Center on December 6th. It was called HANDOG NG FASO SA PASKO, so it brought tears as we immersed into the lyrics of Filipino well-loved Christmas carols. Coming home from the concert, many might have experienced mixed emotions: appreciative that a concert have brought Philippines yuletide just a few miles away from our doorsteps, but oh boy, we became, all the more, nostalgic.

Searching how to fill emptiness and to make themselves busy so as to forget nostalgia, many probably have also considered attending the three O'clock (Dec. 13th-that's tomorrow)Christmas concert of Lake Avenue Sanctuary Choir (also in Pasadena), of which I and four other Filipinos have been members. Then, some may even have thought of joining Lake Avenue Church Sanctuary Choir and the symphony orchestra on Dec. 20th (5p.m.) for a Sing-Along performance on Handel's Messiah, where copies of musical score would be waiting at the door for all those who wanted to join in the singing. Many might have thought to come with the hope that it would make their Christmas season complete. But everyone knows that it won't! Spending Christmas back home is definitely different.

FASOs concert was absolutely superb, professionally sang and performed. Certainly, everyone was entertained, but it did not completely fill in the gap of what we feel missing. Ah, everyone is probably missing the spontaneity of celebrating Christmas in the Philippines.

Oh, if we could just have a couple of weeks off work; if there could just have an available seat in any Philippine Airlines flight, we surely would have been packing lightly to savor the real Philippine yuletide. Longings of coming home during Christmas always sets in. The deafening, booming and swooshing sound of firecrackers and bamboo luthang (cannon), the wee-hour Simbang Gabi , and the constant caroling by off-keyed children, who sometimes come to our door a couple of times in one evening to sing carols for a quick buck. Yes, despite peak season for travel; despite being ogled and treated like a white bearded and red-suited chubby Santa, even though we are slim and skinny, smooth, and almost half-naked (due to heat and high humidity), we still want to be home for Christmas. Almost everyone would not mind if Christmas trip to the Philippines would be so expensive. If our work would just allow us and flight seats would be available, all of us would surely fly home. Unfortunately, not all of us could go.

We let our tears roll down like the Pagsanjan or Sawaga Falls while listening to Christmas music. We intentionally honk our cars, while driving either to the mall or work place, to simulate busy traffic in Quiapo or Colon district in Cebu. Our bosses and colleagues often see us staring at the horizon and doubling their effort to call our attention, because we find ourselves dreaming of colorful parols, the acidic smell of bibingka, and the infusing smoke of puto bumbong. We daydream ignoring the effluvium from uncollected garbage, muddy streets and alleys in Baclaran and Divisoria, huge holes in pockets and purses, and the hustle-bustle from honking jeepneys, buses, taxis and mendicants. We just feel that nothing can compare spending Christmas in the Philippines.

Growing up in a small barrio before Malaybalay (Bukidnon) became a city, then, gotten older while living in a real estate subdivision close to Camarin, Caloocan City before coming to the U.S., I always miss the young carolers in the Philippines. I miss those rattling homemade tambourines made from flattened tops of bottled soda, soy sauce or Tanduay. I miss the banging of plastic pails and spoons to accompany the singing of "Ang Pasko ay Sumpait" by enterprising kids and teenagers. I miss listening to a cantata by a small church in Constitutional Hills, QC, who comes to our house every Christmas for cheers and fund raising. I miss hearing those off-keyed tunes of "Thank you...thank you...ang babait ninyo"; even those from ungrateful kids who sing "Thank you...thank you...ang babarat ninyo!" Oh, if we could just have such carolers here in US, we probably would feel complete at Christmas time.

Hey, we could probably bring over here some good cultural practices on Christmas. I am aware that some Catholic groups are already having Simbang Gabi. What about bringing in some smoked banana leaves and dough and request a few church goers to let the fire going just outside the church to bring the smokey-side of Simbang Gabi. Fil-Am churches or non-profit organizations could probably organize Christmas carolers to sing in Filipino homes and raise funds for a cause. I am pretty sure, many Filipino household would welcome it. Who knows some non-Filipino households would also welcome Filipino carolers to their homes. Organizers would just have to send letters to the households to be sure that carolers would not be infringing their privacy. Who knows, caroling, the Filipino way, and Simbang Gabi would etch their way as accepted cultural practices here in US. How about giving them a try next year?

Maligayang Pasko ho sa lahat.

MY THANKSGIVING DAY: THEN and NOW

2009-11-26T12:08:00.000-08:00

As far as I can remember, Thanksgiving Day celebration in the Philippines is conflicting and confusing. It is therefore obvious that many Filipinos do not celebrate it as festive as barrio or town fiestas.

Couple days ago, I asked a dozen Filipino elders if they ever think of September 21st as they celebrate Thanksgiving Day. More than half looked at me perplexed. Four of them told me that it was the day that Martial Law was proclaimed by the deposed president and, by Presidential Decree 577 signed on September 1974, also declared as the National Thanksgiving Day probably to conceal the repressive character of the New Society. One of the twelve even told me that he never celebrated Sept. 21st as a Thanksgiving Day. In fact, when it was proclaimed, he imagined that the deposed president would like all Filipinos to treat him like Mao-tze-tung: the entire country go out to the street with his picture paraded and hailed, along with red buntings and confetti. "Thank God, that didn't happen", he further said. National Thanksgiving Day in the Philippines was obviously political in nature.

Actually, July 4th was the original Thanksgiving Day in the Philippines. It was the day in 1946 when the US government, under the Tydings-McDuffie Law officially recognized the 1935 First Philippine Constitution. It was a thanksgiving for freedom received from foreign rule. When thanksgiving date was moved to Sept. 21st, 4th of July was renamed as the Philippine-American Friendship Day. Unfortunately, the day never became a national thanksgiving celebration. We do celebrate it with street parades, but never as a family festivity.

Anyway, at the church where I grew up, Thanksgiving is a "church family" festival. Church members go out to the community to invite non-church goers. Food committee busied themselves cooking at the back of our church. Decoration committee decorated the church interior with red and green coffee berries naturally lined on their twigs, corn cobs firmly intact on their stalks, hands of ripe bananas, riped guavas, sour sop, star apples, legumes, green and yellow squash and red and white sweet potatoes with vines neatly hanging down the table and sprawling onto the cement floor. More corn cobs and stalks, and banana trees with ripe yellow and red fruits hanging in cluster, standing tall on both corners outside the church. We brushed aside, even church politics, to joyously celebrate (in thanksgiving) all the blessings and fruits of our labor for the year. After church service, many spread colorful mats and blankets on the church yard and we feasted on lechon and fried chicken, pansit and meatballs, Dakan (taro leaves cooked in coconut cream with anchovies), and pechay and adobong string beans. Those who brought food shared what they have. So, we also have dried fish and sardine balls, biko and cassava suman, puto and cassava linusak (cooked cassava mashed with freshly grated coconut and sugar). Most of the church members were farmers; however, no one raised turkey in our barrio, so that probably made us "un-american". But Thanksgiving Day was always the time when the church got more tithes and offerings.

I remember that we always celebrate Thanksgiving in November. Call it American mentality, but I don't care. Our church was a product of zealous effort by early Baptist missionaries from America. But I also remember that when Martial Law moved Thanksgiving to September, the festive celebration waned. Many church members would like to move it back to November, because they felt that there was nothing to celebrate in September, except maimed tongues and bruised psyche. I still remember my father, the pastor, preached on Psalm 136: 3 for everyone not to forget to thank the Lord for His love never fails. He told us, during one lean year, that even though harvest was scarce, there was still so much to be thankful of.

Coming over and celebrating Thanksgiving Day in November always takes me back to those very good old days. Although thoughts are often times marred with secularism, Thanksgiving sale, and enjoyed the televised Macy's Parade rather than a feast on church yard; but at least, we always have a family reunion and a feast on turkey and ham, on rice (sorry, only my grandchildren like mashed potato) and cranberry, and of biko, suman, and leche flan. It wouldn't be a church festivity anymore, but I am glad my family still celebrate it in November along with the rest of America.

Happy Thanksgiving to you all.

Here's a ghazal for you to enjoy. This was published in Pasadena Star News last year and in LA Pinoy Magazine this month.

THANKSGIVING
(An Acrostic in Ghazal)

Table full of food on Thanksgiving Day…
Happy ties renewed on Thanksgiving Day.

All enjoying turkey, ham and cranberry…
Never a bad mood on Thanksgiving Day!

Keeping togetherness as one family…
Shrugging off a feud on Thanksgiving Day!

Grateful for life and love and prosperity…
Instill what is good on Thanksgiving Day.

Value for love, you share for those who’ve not…
Indeed joy is pursued on Thanksgiving Day.

Numerous good deeds to do for others, I say,
Give thanks! Be happy this Thanksgiving Day.

(c) 2007 edmund melig industan

NOTE: Should you want to give a thanksgiving or Christmas present for your friends and loved ones, I would encourage you to give them copies of my book, PRAISING ALL SEASONS LONG: Haiku Verses. Only $9.99 in the US. Available on Amazon.com, comfortpublishing.com/store,vroman's.com, borders.com, barnes&noble.com. Also available online in UK, Italy, France, Germany, Japan, Australia, Canada, New Zealand, India, and So. Africa.

JUST A LITERARY POTPOURRI

2009-09-19T09:20:00.000-07:00

Don't get me wrong! I'm not an egoist! Nevertheless, I regularly do online surfing for my name.

Why? I tell you why. I wanted to check where my books are available. Every now and then, I see new online book outlets in other countries that are selling them. Recently, I realized that more book outlets in Australia and New Zealand are carrying KOILAWAN and PRAISING ALL SEASONS LONG: Haiku Verses. I thank you for getting your copies. Oh, yeah, please consider getting 1 or more copies of PRAISING... It is an excellent and inexpensive (but lasting) gift book for all season. Price is just $9.99 (US);17 and a change in Australian dollars.

Couple of days ago, I saw my name on a Share Rank site. Curious, I opened it and found that one of its subscribers has ranked my poem, PEACE, WHY ARE YOU SO ELUSIVE, as one of the best quatern verses posted online. Currently, Peace... has been ranked #2. Actually, the first four got equal votes (yes, readers could vote and comment), but I am happy to be #2 out of 10.

Recently, I joined Christianpoetry.com to post some of my verses with Christian themes. I have posted some verses from my gift book, PRAISING ALL SEASONS..., a Shakespearean sonnet, and a blank verse. I would love you to check them out. You also could leave your comments after reading them.

And my novel writing? Yes, some of you asked me how come I discontinued my chapter blogging. I apologize; however, it is just temporary. I will resume it next week.
Reason is; my fourth grandchild, who will turn 3 next month, has started Head Start. To celebrate it, I temporarily shelved my novel project to write a 24-page phonic story. Angel is my grandchild's nick name, short for Angelina. Hence, I decided to write "L" for LULU LAND AND ANGEL. Besides Applied Anthropology, I taught Literacy: Materials Preparation to graduate students at Philippine Normal University before; hence, it was fun for me to recall some principles in writing phonic materials for Pre-K to 3.

Here's a sample of the proposed phonic book.

Page 1

Lights off!
Angel is leaving for Lulu Land.
A place close to Dream Land!
A place next to none!

Page 2

Lulu Land
A land for fun!
A land full of fun!
It is a land for Angel to have fun.

Page 3

Lulu Land
A place to laugh!
A place to smile!
It is a place for Angel to laugh and smile.

......

Page 13

Let us leave early.
Let us leave when clouds are lumpy.
Let us load our sack lunch.
Let us eat lunch in Lulu Land.

Page 14

Look! The sign says Lulu Land.
Look! Lots of children are now in line.
Look! All children have sack lunch.
Like us, they will eat lunch in Lulu Land.

......

I already finished writing 24 pages. Publisher, I believe, requires 24-page story for Pre-K to 3 materials. My plan is to make arrangement with some schools here in Pasadena and test the book amongst Pre-k to K-1 classes. First stop will be the public school where my other two grandchildren are attending. Meantime, I am checking out some pictures or art work for each page. The preparation would probably take a month before I am ready to do some school rounds. If everything would turn out well, I would be pitching this phonic story to a children's book publisher.

Happy weekend everyone!

A LOVE TO SURRENDER

2009-09-14T18:13:00.000-07:00

1) So tired traversing the complex life web,
I tried every nook; tasted every food.
Comfort, it gave me; fullness, it served me.
Lo and behold! All were temporary.

2) I shifted! I moved! Diff'rent crevices
I've visited to find my comfort zone.
Enjoyed the laughs; I ogled in the dark!
So sad when alone; needs unsatisfied.

3) I searched for answers~shelves of well-read tomes.
Roosevelt's Freedom from Wants~ to Maslow's Needs~
I also checked on Durkheim's suicide book,
Before I turned to the old Book of books!

4) "You come; you weary trav'ler. Come to me.
I got the stillness you need. Come and rest!
I got the water you need. Quench your thirst!
I got the life eternal. Come have peace!"

5) I wrestled! All excuses I have giv'n.
My spirit wants, but, oh, my flesh doesn't.
The world I love so difficult to yield.
I can't! Not now! Convict my soul next time.

6) "I have selected you amongst many.
I wanted you to come into my fold.
I died for you; I shed my blood for you.
Conform to my will. I have chosen you."

7) The world so beautiful; 'though it's a mess.
A maze so vast; seems there's no way out.
The dead-end's plenty; the hedges so thick~
Is there no way for world to give me peace?

8) "I made the world and all that is therein;
It's beauty marred by self-enriching men.
The talents I give them~used without me.
Joys they offer lead people go astray."

9) So tough to go against the stream of life;
So difficult to turn one's back away!
Can I not do your will and do the world's?
Is there no easy path to be with you?"

10) "My cross is the shortest! No other way.
My door is still open. Please don't delay.
I have been waiting for you to come in.
Join my family and dine with me."

11) You weigh me now, I surely will fall short.
My ways are different from those in your fold.
"Son, my blood is red, as crimson as yours
My saving grace is giv'n. It's free. It's yours."

12) You know I'm stubborn, spoiled good old brat.
More blunders I will make; more shame I'll give
You. ~Can't be good testimony for you.
Imperfect; if I would give in today.

13) "Not done with you yet," God reminded me.
"Go on! You study~and learn more of me.
Let me mold you, a potter to miry clay,
And perfect you'll be for eternity.

14) Be reconciled and grow in me," said he.
"Forget the world; focus your thoughts in me.
Join my family. I'll adopt you wholly.
My ways aren't easy; your guide, I'll be.

15) The fam'ly's my idea to gain strength,
But free will, still I give, to all my kids.
Unlikely people, they're in my fam'ly
Like you; they are still weak~needing support.

16) So don't be discouraged; please do not fret.
I'm sovereign, controlling everything.
If you'd need guidance; I'd be in your heart.
Share me your fears as a child to a dad."

17) But, Lord, I fall short, got my own limits~
Measuring up to your will is hard to attain.
"Don't worry, son, I do understand.
I made you that way so just trust in me."

18) Walls tumbling down; my tears rolling down.
Man's love melted; Agape love transcended.
I felt the power, Holy Spirit filled me.
I'm now~ a member of God's family.

19) Unsearchable riches awaiting me.
Looked everywhere e'en in nooks dimly lit.
Failed to heed God's call; blinded by the world.
Yes, I'm in this world, but not with the world.

20) Mysterious fellowship, the fam'ly of God
I'm part of it! Praise God for saving grace.
In Him there is strength and it will never end.
Now, I have the joy that is full and complete.

(c)edmund melig industan, Sept. 2008

Note: I wrote this Blank Form poetry to recapitulate the month-long sermon series of our pastor at Lake Avenue Church, Pasadena, California. May this poetry gives you a light in the tunnel.

Chapter Blogging: Instilling Discipline & Patience to a Novel Writer

2009-08-30T17:31:00.000-07:00

Before I started writing chapters of my first novel, THE PEACE CORPS VOLUNTEER'S WIFE, I already have the complete story in my mind. Matter of fact, I completed laying its foundation by writing titles and story lines of chapter 1 through chapter 32.

Like a house builder, I know what bricks to use every time I'm in front of my computer. However, I am realizing now that completing the novel is not simple as eating an apple pie.

Writing a novel is not the same as writing my masters thesis and doctoral dissertation. Non-fiction like thesis or dissertation, only needs collecting data, analysis, writing, and presenting findings and recommendations. Fiction like novel, creativeness is needed. That means that one has to let the imagination go wild on how to present details, and twists and turns of the story.

In non-fiction writing, every chapter is complete. A chapter in the presentation of data is complete once all pertinent data is included. A chapter in the analysis of data is simply an analysis using statistical tools with paragraphs that simply explain the analysis. No more; no less. Every chapter has no twist and turns, just pure details. The goal is to prove an assumption of a particular phenomenon.

Fiction, specifically novel writing, has several things to consider. Certainly, each chapter has to abide with the novel's plot. However, a novelist also has to consider some factors: How could I make my characters believable? How could I dispose my characters' personality? How could I embellish the chapter so that readers could see, feel, touch, smell, taste, and hear the chapter's events; and yet keeping some of the details secret so that readers would continue looking for them in the next chapter or chapters? Etcetera! Quite frankly, I haven't experienced such challenges when I was writing my first book, KOILAWAN:Letters and Poems of a Jungle Dad-Mom (Xulon Press, 2007), and my upcoming book, BEDTIME-PASTIME (Kalanganan dun hu Ikam): Collection of Short Stories, Folktales, and Essays (New Day Publishers). I definitely did not have similar challenge when I wrote my second book, PRAISING ALL SEASONS LONG: Haiku Verses (Comfort Publishing,2009) and my other collections of haiku and senryu verses, THE HEALING GARDEN OF VERSES,which I am currently pitching to a poetry publisher.

There was a moment when I was about to hit the wall. After writing several paragraphs or dialogue, I sometimes have to pause and ask, "Am I true to the plot? Is this the proper way to string this new chapter to the previous ones? Am I divulging everything in this chapter that the readers would put the book down without even getting halfway through it? Etc.

I know teachers in creative writing would tell me, "Keep your thoughts flowing. Don't stop writing."

To keep me going, I need to discipline myself, including my thoughts. I need to be patient and enjoy the sight, the feelings, the touch, the smell, the taste, and the voices at the setting and of the characters. One way of instilling discipline and patience is to blog some glimpses of the chapters that I am working on. Blogging some glimpses tells me that I have to keep on writing, because those who read my blog already know it. Blog pushes me inside the characters' minds; henceforth, allowing me to put the details to complete a chapter without hitting the wall.

Here's the story line of Chapter 6.

MICHAEL'S SECRET

Being all alone in the village and having problem with communication, (All of the villagers, but Laga, only speak the tribe's language), that Michael clings onto Laga like his crutch. As a result, he secretly falls for Laga. However, he is conflicted with so many thing: Laga’s love with another man, the cultural taboo, his professional goals, his family in the US, etc.

The Peace Corps Volunteer's Wife: Chapter 3 Blog

2009-08-21T15:52:00.000-07:00

Certainly, culture isn't a closed system. As long as people have senses and unsatiable needs, culture will always be dynamic.

Laga grew up in a small Bukidnon village, so far away from the city. A chieftain, who also was the shaman, tried to keep new ideas away from infusing to the village culture. He even invoke the power of the deities just to control the lives and minds of every villager.

However, it is better to control a herd of cattle than a person, the saying goes. People have been given the mind to think and the free will on how to live.

For Laga, she wasn't contented, even when she still was young, to live and die in the village. Nonetheless, she loved the village. She intent to come back. Her love for language and learning was just so strong to ignore. She wanted to explore the world of other cultural group. So, after she finished 6th grade, she convinced her parents to allow her to continue her schooling in Malaybalay. The village chieftain/shaman wasn't happy with the decision. He even told Laga's parent's that the forefathers revealed in a dream Laga's disfigurement if she'd kept on pushing her desire to go to the city. Laga didn't listen.

Poverty did not discouraged Laga to keep on learning. When there was rat infestation in her village, she decided to find a family, who could take her as a domestic helper and allow her to attend a night high. The governor's wife heard about it, so she took her as a house help.

And Laga stayed with the governor's family. She cleaned the house, cooked, did the dishes and laundry, literally an all-around domestic helper. She felt that she's reaping positive result from all her sacrifices. She wanted to show it to the villagers that she asked to have a summer break before her senior year. The shaman strengthened a rein on her... And the story of The Peace Corps Volunteer's Wife continued.

Novel: A Glimpse on Ch. 1

2009-08-10T07:14:00.000-07:00

A bugyung (nautilus shell) ensemble suddenly reverberated in the pine-scented air of Malaybalay. Those bugyung blowers must have done their breathing exercise, because it was still 7 in the morning, yet they were able to hold this one-syllabic undulating bass sound for 55 seconds...

"Mom, the Kaamulan Festival parade is about to begin," Laga said as she squeezed the hands of her mother-in-law...

"Thank, goodness! As much as I enjoy sitting on this grass-roofed platform, while entertained with all the excited faces and screams up and down the streets, I worry of all the stares by everybody. Well, I know they're not going to harm me, but goodness, gracious, why do many hit or push each other after waving at us?" ...

The parade assembled in Sumpong, right on top of the hill by Bethel Baptist Hospital. The huge make-shift platform where dignitaries and special guests have been seated is diagonally constructed, where the old Rubio's store was before, slightly facing the hill...

The red-clad men with feathered head gears started coming down the hill with their bugyung held closed to their chest. Probably, after 100 paces, they stopped. Like an army bugle corps, they extended their arms out together in a cadence, before they brought their bugyung onto their lips. Another prolonged blow engulfed the crowd. As the bugyung sounds faded, the blowers strutted around like fighting cocks, synchronous to the music of tagungtung (bamboo slit drum) ensemble. The strut ended with a sudden burst of "hey!" as they hoisted their bugyung over their head just as the one-beat sound of agung from an agung (gong) ensemble was heard...

So unfortunate that the mother-in-law's anxiety escalated to panic after the first group of street dancers passed by... A masked men got on the stage, whisked Laga and Michael and forced them to ride on a black SUV... The governor's wife, who was sitting beside her calmly said, "Don't worry, Mrs. Webb, you will see them safe and sound in a little while."

"Yes, tell me that! Killings and kidnappings in Mindanao have been off and on in California's televisions and newspapers."

"Don't worry, Mrs. Webb," Mercy, the governor's daughter, said, "you will see Laga and Michael in half an hour."

"I only will stop worrying if you'd stop calling me Mrs. Webb!"

John and Mercy embraced Mrs. Webb as tight as before.

And the parade in chapter 1 goes on and so is the story of THE PEACE CORPS VOLUNTEER'S WIFE: The Novel.

(Synopsis: The Peace Corps Volunteer's Wife is a story about the hurt caused by a polygamous relationship and the joy in interracial marriage. From a Philippine tribal village to the city of Pasadena, CA, Laga etched her way to overcome the harshest chapter of her life. Along the way, she not only helped others gain self-confidence, self-worth, and self-respect; she also supplied the missing pieces of the puzzle in Michael’s life.)

IT'S THE SUIT!

2009-08-01T10:44:00.000-07:00

"It's the suit!" the phrase we constantly heard at the 2009 World Swimming Championship in Rome. Thirty-eight world records were crushed! Less known Olympic swimmers, who were wearing the new polyurethane suits, were taking the glory away from Beijing Olympic medalists. Certainly, those polyurethane-suited world champions were ecstatic; however, the phrase, "It's the suit!", is surely giving them a bitter taste.

As I listened to the American commentators, I learned that this new swim suit gives the swimmer more buoyancy. It helps them move faster in the water just like a sea glider.

The suit was an issue again just before the most awaited 100-meter butterfly took place this Saturday. The California-trained Milorad Cavic of Serbia, who earned the silver medal in Beijing and very vocal that he should have been the gold medalist for he out-touched Michael Phelps at the finish, wore the new suit. Michael Phelps decided to wear similar suit, the LZR Racer suit, he wore in Beijing. Did this self-proclaimed 100-meter Serbian swimmer finally convinced the world that he really was the winner in Beijing? He had an advantage. Unfortunately, he did not. He still ended up behind Michael. Finally, Cavic accepted his fate by saying, "He(Michael) is the man!"

Certainly, advance technology helps people get ahead of others; however, the way how one nurtures a God-given talent to the fullest must never be looked down.

Summer Trip: Wish there's Pusu` in US

2009-07-21T07:37:00.000-07:00

Oh, hot summer days...
Time for frolic and for trips.
Let's go to the beach!

(c) ed industan
(from Praising All Seasons Long, Comfort Publishing)

Summer is here again. Many families and individuals are traveling to enjoy their annual summer trips. Well, what can I say; it is part of the American culture. Most will try to save a little every month for a short break, either from office work or house chores.

This year, summer trips may be shorter. The economic sting is too serious to ignore. As much as possible, many would like to make the trip cheaper.

The idea of cheap travel has led my thoughts back to the past. I cannot help myself remember Pinusu` or pusu`, which people in Visayas and Mindanao (Philippines) love to eat while traveling. Pinusu is rice wrapped with a coconut palm leaf blade plaited and shaped like a diamond.

This is how we fix Pinusu`. We first remove the midrib of the coconut leaf; then, with the other hand, we shaped the leaf blade like a diamond. After it's done, we filled it with a quarter of a cup of uncooked rice; then, we drop these diamond-shaped plaited palm leaves into a pot of boiling water. In the process of cooking, the sap of the coconut leaves adds flavor to the cooking rice and also make the cooked rice longer from spoiling. The steaming usually takes, at least 30 minutes. When the cooking is done, the pusu` is firmly packed with cooked rice. To eat the rice, we always enjoy the subtle drama of unweaving the plaited leaf blade. However, If we are really starving to death, we usually cut the pusu` with a knife cross-wise. We usually eat pinusu` with either a grilled chicken or fish on a stick, which are oftentimes sold by food vendors at bus stations or sea ports.

How I wish there are coconut palms here in southern California; how I wish some Filipino or Mexican food markets sell coconut leaves as they sell banana leaves. Unfortunately, nothing is available here. Therefore, if we wanted our summer trip cheaper, we would take our rice cooker to fix the Filipino staple food, i.e. rice, in a motel where we would end up spending the night over. But I assure you, the aroma of a pusu` is beyond compare.

Happy Summer vacation everyone.

Slowly Savoring God's Given Talent

2009-07-12T15:12:00.000-07:00

Come, let's shout praises to God; raise the roof for the Rock who saved us! (Psalm 95:1)

Five Filipinos: Lilian Lim (second soprano), Edmund Clay (tenor), Anthony Griarte (baritone), Israel Navarro (bass), and I (bass) are among the 114-members of Lake Avenue Church Sanctuary Choir, who will be singing in a concert during the 71st Annual Convention of the National Association of Church Musicians at the Covenant Presbyterian Church in Long Beach, California this Thursday, July 16th. With the exception of Israel, who professionally sang in the Philippines as a member of HIS Praise, we are ordinary people who just wanted to offer our God-given voices to minister through songs. Hence, it took extra effort for us to memorize 11 songs and master the music in just a short time.

During rehearsals, Dr John Sutton, our choir director, always reminds everyone to have clear diction and sing beautifully for the Lord. Except those members, who are former members of the Los Angeles Opera Choir, music directors and professors, many of us have one or two shortcomings.

One shortcoming, many of us definitely have, is how to hold our breath longer. One of the songs, "Hallelujah!", which is a composition of Dr. Emma Lou Diemer, requires us to hold our breath for 30 beats at the very end. In this song, there is only one word, "Hallelujah" to be sang in brisk tempo, 55 times. It is so difficult to train old "dogs" some tricks. Singing through ones diaphragm takes awhile to learn; singing softly with increasing crescendo at the end and holding the last note in 30 beats takes extra discipline.

Perform with your gut, slowly releasing your breath, and savoring the joy and sweetness of what you're doing. You will realize that you can overcome your shortcoming and enjoy what God has given you. As I pondered on these words, I realized that this also applies in our everyday life, in or out our workplace.

Most of us easily loss our "cool" when challenge. We always wanted outright positive result. Instead of enjoying the things we do, we often times end up thinking of failure and shortcomings. Consequently, we ended up gnawed into pieces until we give up our ghost. We forget that, in God, everything is possible.

Right after the second Sunday service today, we have our second to the last choir rehearsal. Again, we were reminded to sing beautifully for the Lord.

I patiently managed my breathing technique, and I was surprised! Those sections where I have problems before became easy, even though I still was nursing a stubborn cough. For the first time, I was able to hold my breath in 30 beats. As I listened to the choir, I heard a fervent chant-like song, upbeat soul musics, and lively angelic celebratory songs of "Hallelujahs".

Join us at the Covenant Presbyterian Church in Long Beach at 7 p.m. on July 16th and be blessed.

Lake Avenue Church Sanctuary Choir is already praying for an Out-of-the-Loft Concert in Arizona and Argentina in 2010 and 2011, respectively. These five Filipinos will certainly be joining the tour.

If you would like to join us, even if you still are not a member of Lake Avenue Church, the Sanctuary Choir would like to invite you. An open enrollment will be on September 3rd. Join Lilian, Israel, Anthony, and the two Edmunds savor the musical talent that God has given you. You will be blessed as you bless others through songs.

ENJOY WITH CARE the 4th of JULY

2009-07-04T10:58:00.000-07:00

DANGEROUS! BEAUTIFUL!
edmund industan

And look! They whistled! They zoomed up so high,
Like rockets shooting to the distant sky.
They spewed those embers of gold as they fly
…Exploding so colorful in a style.

Oh, what a wonder! A transformation!
Dangerous cylindrical invention!
They add colors to a celebration
…Either New Year’s or the 4th of July.

How awesome, beautiful they really are;
Those embers popping like mushrooms,
Bright jelly fish with falling tentacles.
They mesmerize, excite everyone’s eyes.

Mix all: sulfur, saltpeter and charcoal
So risky! Messing with it, not for all.
Those pyrotechnics know every rule
Leave them this dangerously beautiful.

Our life may be dangerous, some may say,
…Risky business to traverse and parlay.
But they who create know what is best,
Leave work to them! Just enjoy the rest.

(c) 2007

FILIPINO: A Language on Paper

2009-06-30T06:42:00.000-07:00

LA Pinoy Magazine, the first glossy Filipino-owned magazine in the US, told me yesterday that it would include my language blog in its July issue. June issue used my blog on Skid Row as its feature article. I told the editor if she could wait in 24 hours so that I could think on how to make the article short and simple. Here now is the article that will be published in next month's LA Pinoy Magazine.

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

It was in 1937 when Pres. Manuel Quezon mandated the Institute of National Language (INL) to develop the Philippine official language. The purpose was to instill nationalism, national identity, and unity. The president wanted Tagalog as that language. However, non-Tagalog speakers particularly those from the central and southern Philippines strongly opposed it. After Quezon's term, the name was renamed to Pilipino in 1959. Amendment of the constitution in 1973 and 1987 renamed the national language to Filipino.

Did it serve the purpose to unite Filipinos? No! Instead, Filipino, as a language, became an illusion. Non-Tagalog speakers still considered it unacceptable, since Pilipino or Filipino, is still Tagalog-based.

Then came the move by the language purists, who wanted to discontinue the use of foreign words. They thought of coining new Pilipino words. So, in the late 60s, they started coining words such as salungpuwit (ass-catcher), salungsusu (breast-catcher), hattinig (voice-sender), and salipapaw to denote a chair, brassiere, telephone, and airplane, respectively.

Filipinos from Batanes to Jolo were united...in consternation. Tagalog speakers were shocked how their language was debased. Others have a blast mocking the Pilipino, as a language. I was in 6th grade that time. I tell you, my Pilipino teacher blushed everytime she said "salungpuwit".

Problem is Filipino never existed as one of the 175 major and minor Philippine languages. It only is on paper. Whether we like it or not, Philippine national language is still Tagalog elevated to a higher standard known as Filipino.

And unity amongst Filipinos? We could attain it if we could look beyond our own language group. Play down regionalism; exert more effort on respect. Don't ridicule those who'd say "tindig!" instead of "tayo!". If Filipinos could do these, maybe Filipino, as a language, would evolve over time.

Is Filipino, as a language, Artificial?

2009-06-28T15:36:00.000-07:00

I am posing this question to recapitulate what Dr. Patricia Schneider-Zioga, a linguistic professor at California State University-Fullerton, mentioned when we were guests of Jannelle So, host of Ch. 18's Kababayan LA. Like Jannelle, I know many TV viewers would have wanted more explanation from Patricia and me. Here now is a reinforcement to make the issue clearer.

Remember the words salungpuwit (catch-ass or ass-catcher), salungsusu(catch-breast or breast catcher), hattinig (send-voice or voice sender), and salipapaw to denote chair, bra, telephone, and airplane, respectively? These were used in our Pilipino language classes sometime in the 60s.

Believe me, most Filipinos expressed a raucous ridicule of these coined words. I was in 6th grade when these new words came about. My Pilipino teacher refrained from using them. Students like me, who even were not native speakers of Pilipino-Tagalog, just can't avoid laughing over them. The construction of new words by Pilipino language purists was initially thought to help overcome colonization and regionalism umbrage. They also thought of coining new words based from existing Tagalog words could help instill nationalism, national identity, and unity amongst Filipinos.

Those new coinage almost made Pilipino, as a language, artificial in flesh and bones. Thank goodness; they were short-lived.

So, why should I support Patricia's statement when those new Pilipino terms did not live on? As a term for a language, Pilipino/Filipino is, superficially, an artificial language. As a language system, it is not.

Pilipino/Filipino is a created term for Philippine national language. (Pilipino used to be the term for the language curriculum, while Filipino was to a people who are from the Philippines.) It is a language, because the Philippine Constitution states it so. Call it politically constructed language. Beyond books and government documents, there never was a Pilipino Philippine language.

So, Pilipino (1959 to 1973), which was renamed to Filipino (1973 to present), as a Philippine national language was never an existing language of Filipinos. Prior to 1959, the national language that Pres. Manuel Luis Quezon, the Father of Philippine National Language, simply wanted it called "Tagalog". This was strongly opposed by non-native Tagalog speakers, particularly those in central(Visayas) and southern Philippines (Mindanao). Hence, the national language was renamed as Pilipino, which, likewise, wasn't well-accepted.

Pilipino/Filipino, as a language system, cannot be aligned with Esperanto, Damin, Glaugnea, Lingua Ignota, Spocamian, etc.. These are all invented languages, with their own set of rules, either developed for art sake, communication secrecy, or neutral auxiliary language for those who engage in international communication, tourism, and research.

As a language system, Pilipino/Filipino is based on Tagalog. Coined words, like salungpuwit, were completely abandoned. The grammar and syntax are not new construction.

TRIBES, LANGUAGES, & DIALECTS: The Bukidnon Case

2009-06-22T01:13:00.000-07:00

A minority language close to my heart is Binukid. This is one of the minor languages in the province of Bukidnon in southern Philippines. Other minor languages in the province are the Western Bukidnon Manobo, Tigwa Manobo, and Matigsalug. The lingua franca (major or trade language) in the region is Cebuano or Binisaya.

Even though there are only four minor languages in Bukidnon, several dialects exist. Let me give Binukid, which is my mother tongue, as a case in point.

Growing up, we, the Bukidnons in Barrio Casisang, always distinguished ourselves from other Binukid speakers. Distinctions were based on accent and some unintelligible words that were seldom used in Casisang. We distinguished ourselves from other Binukid speakers by not having a "sing-song" or rough speech pattern. The used of archaic Binukid words by other villages further contributed to our differences. Matter of fact those archaic words were the main barrier in communicating with those Bukidnons from outlying barrios.

Dr. Richard Elkins, my thesis mentor in early 80s and a linguistic anthropologist who interconnected several Philippine minor languages in a Proto-Manobo Theory (1964), told me that those from Casisang, Kalasungay, Sumpong,Impasug-ong, etc. are speaking the "asphalt" Binukid. This is a variation of a language (dialect) based on sociolect. It was well-said. These barrios are located along Sayre highway and many are highly literate.

Based on Morris Swadish word list there was no big difference of Casisang Binukid to the Binukid in outlying barrios. Nevertheless, the indifference amongst Binukid speakers created, more or less, a social divide. Interaction was affected.

Then came the PANAMIN, the Presidential Assistant for National Minorities, in the late 70s. This quasi-government agency was supposed to continue on with the program of the defunct Commission on National Integration (CNI). However, instead of integrating or unifying the Bukidnons, PANAMIN contributed to a permanent divide amongst Binukid speakers. Based on the geographical location (topolect/regiolect), PANAMIN sub-divided the Binukid speakers into the Higa-onon, Tala-andig and Bukidnon tribes.

Currently, we have these three recognized tribes. Their language is Binukid. Based on Binukid language, either one has the right to say that the languages used by the other tribes are dialects of their language. However, Binukid is NOT a dialect of Cebuano or Bisaya.

NOTE: So, what is an "artificial" language? Patricia mentioned, when we were guests on Channel 18, that Filipino is an artificial language. I will talk about that in my next blog.

ANOTHER RECAP: Dialect is not a Language

2009-06-13T12:53:00.000-07:00

Many lay people would confuse a minor language to a dialect. Probably, the reason behind this is that they confuse a language to a lingua franca (trade language).

In my home country, the Philippines, most people would think that other than the eight major languages; namely, Tagalog, Bisaya/Cebuano, Ilocano, Hiligaynon/Ilonggo, Bikolnon/Bisakol, Waray-waray, Kapampangan, and Pangasinan/Pangasinense, the remaining 167 minority languages are mere dialects of these major ones.

This might help a lay person determine a medium of communication a language. If we speak the language or the lingua franca of the region, where we live in, and we have problem understanding another person, whom we have come in contact with, and we are not prejudicial in any way on the manner that person speaks, consider his language different from yours; hence, a language. If we understand the speaker, despite the differences in pronunciation, accent, intonation, and with some slight intelligibility problem, then, consider his language a dialect.

Dialect is a variation of a particular language. Bisaya in Mindanao, and even the Binol-anon in Bohol island, are dialects of Cebuano/Binisaya in Cebu. Differences in pronunciation, accent, intonation, and a unique verbal production of some letter-sounds or a few extra and unique affixes exist; however, intelligibility between Bisaya (of Mindanao) and Boholano speakers is very high.

Cebuano or Binisaya in Mindanao may pronounced the /l/ in between vowels or may add /ha/ as a suffix to an action word to express exaggeration, example: (katawa = laugh in Cebu) vs. katawaha = laugh in Mindanao), but those Bisaya/Cebuano in Cebu can understand the Bisaya in Mindanao perfectly.

Similarly, the Boholanos/Bol-anons pronounces /y/ as /dz/ (e.g., ayaw (Cebuano of Cebu and Mindanao for 'do not...') vs. adzaw; however, the sentence structure and the words are the same. Henceforth, Bisaya in Bohol is a dialect of Cebuano/Bisaya.

Dialect can be caused by ones social class. This is what we call sociolect. As we, Filipinos, are aware that Tagalog spoken by students in exclusive schools has developed some vocabulary and unique sentence pattern. The differences may be intentional, out of the desire of distinguishing themselves from other Tagalog speakers, or it may have been caused by the school restriction for students to speak in vernacular.

An intentional code-switching in Tagalog, like "kilig to the bones", which originated from co-ed students in prestigious colleges, is an example of a sociolect. Others have caught up to this manner of speaking Tagalog, that we commonly now hear "Taglish", which is a Tagalog with a sprinkles of English words or phrase. Nevertheless, this Tagalog-English mix is also considered linguistically as a Patoi, because it is a non-standard dialect and it is not institutionally supported.

Regiolect or topolect can also cause the existence of dialect. The frequency of interaction and other neighboring languages can result to a development of new words and expressions, and borrowings from other nearby languages. Despite the regional "ala eh" expression of the Batanguenos (of Batangas)and few other lexical (word) differences does not mean that they are not speaking in Tagalog. They are! We distinguish them as Tagalog speaker from Batangas based on some expressions and accents that they have uniquely included in their speech patterns.

I hope this blog helps us not to get confuse on the use of the terms, dialect and language.

A RECAP on ISSUE DISCUSSED ON TV

2009-06-10T09:03:00.000-07:00

What is a language? This was the first question hurled at Dr. Patricia Schneider-Zioga, a linguistics professor at California State University-Fullerton, and me, when Jannelle So invited us to guest in her TV program, Kababayan L.A., on Channel 18 two days ago, June 8th.

Dr. Schneider-Zioga responded that there's no clear-cut definition what language really is among linguists. She supported her answer by citing a case in Europe. Unfortunately, some viewers, particularly my friends, were not satisfied with her answer. ( I knew...with mine, as well.) A few sent me email that she should have given an example on the Philippine languages, because Kababayan L.A. is a Filipino program. Since her answer is true, I didn't react against it. Instead, I reinforced it by saying that mutual intelligibility is a criterion that linguists uses to determine whether a particular medium of communication is a language or simply a dialect. By mentioning a technical terminology, I made the answer murkier to lay people. I should have given a Filipino example to satisfy the Filipino community. I'm sorry, I didn't. It is tough to think on your toes, especially if there's time constraint.

Anyway, allow me to use this blog to address it now.

It is a fact; a linguist would consider a medium of communication a dialect of another language on the basis of mutual intelligibility, even if the speakers of that "dialect" would consider it differently. A case in point is the Batad Ifugao and the Mayoyao Ifugao. For an outsider or a linguist, he or she may immediately say that these two cultural groups are identifiably speaking the same language. The reason is: mutual intelligibility is high. Ethnologue (1984) mentioned that the intelligibility is at least 86%. It's too high to be considered as two separate languages.

Certainly, the language scientist may come up with his or her decision on how the two language groups understand each other (i.e. mutual intelligibility). Hence, if there is high percentage of cognate or identical words with similar meaning and no big differences in affixation and word formation (i.e. morphology), that other language group may be treated as a mere dialect of the other.

I mentioned in the program that the Laguna Tagalog is a dialect (i.e. language variation) of Tarlac Tagalog, or vice versa. Most Filipinos know that Laguna is south of Manila, while Tarlac is north. It's true, they have disparity, which is more than accent (i.e. pronunciation or intonation); however, both could perfectly understand each other.

The same thing with Binisaya of Cebu and Mindanao; the obvious difference is just the /l/. Cebuano will never say the /l/ in between vowels, while the Binisaya in Mindanao will always have it. (e.g. waa vs. wala (nothing), baay vs. balay (house).) The meanings are the same; hence, the Binisaya in Mindanao is just a dialect of that of Cebu.

Nevertheless, if we'd compare Binisaya of Cebu or the Binisaya in Mindanao to the Bisaya of Ilo-ilo, there are words (i.e. lexicon) that may be said or spelled without any difference at all; however, the meaning may be 100% not the same. (e.g. sabut is a word found in both Binisaya in Cebu, Mindanao, and in Ilo-ilo. However, sabut in Cebu and Mindanao means 'to understand', while in Ilo-ilo it means "pubic hair". Besides different meaning in some words, affixation or affixes also has considerable differences. Hence, the Bisaya of Cebu and Mindanao is one language, and the Bisaya of Ilo-ilo is another. We, Filipinos, all know it as Hiligaynon. Well, with regular contact, speakers of Hiligaynon and Binisaya do understand each other. We just have to be careful on our word usage so as not to offend someone.

Definitely, mutual intelligibility is not a perfect criterion to distinguish a language from the other. The reason is that language is strongly interrelated to the speaker's thought process and behavior. How one conveys meaning is affected by how he thinks of the person (or a people group) and how he behaves around that person.

Historically, a feud existed between the Batad Ifugao and the Mayoyao Ifugaos. Socially, interaction between the two language groups might be reserved and minimized. Competition as to who might be speaking the high or the low standard language might be existing. So, when a translation of literature had started for the Batad, the Mayoyao speakers did not accept it as theirs. (But the language difference is very minimal!) Mayoyao speakers wanted to be recognized that theirs is a distinct language. As a result, in Philippine linguistics, Batad and Mayoyao Ifugaos are recognized as two different languages; two of the 175 languages in the Philippines.

Therefore, what is a language? Let me now put it this way. It is a set of symbols of sounds that is structured using a set of rules to express a meaning to a thought process or behavior and is transmitted from one generation to another.

(NOTE:

1) In celebration of the Philippine Independence (June 12th), I plan to blog about the Philippine language and culture for the whole month of June.

2) Those who have checked out my poetry reading on You Tube, please accept my sincere thanks. I apologize of the poor synchronization of my voice and my mouth in Part 1. Part 2 and 3 are better. Check them out.

Thanks again, guys.

Edmund Industan

Retracing Steps to Skid Row

2009-06-05T21:26:00.000-07:00

On Mondays and Fridays, I take the Metro (train) at Memorial Park Station, which is just two blocks down from the Pasadena City Hall.

The train station is safe and clean. There's even an art design hanging above the platform for one's eyes to enjoy.

It only takes 25 minutes to get to the Union Station.

And I also am welcomed with commercial ads strategically posted on the wall. Oh, they're written in English and some in Spanish without any English translation.

Don't get me wrong. Skid Row is not in Mexico. The fact is; US now is densely populated with Spanish-speaking immigrants that there are thousands of Spanish advertisements everywhere. I just thank that Spanish was an elective course to Filipino high school seniors and a required course for the first two years in college when I was still a teenager. So, I am literate in Spanish. Too bad, Spanish is not a required course in Philippines colleges and universities anymore. The decision to exclude a Spanish course in the Philippine curriculum is ironic, because thousands of Filipinos are working overseas and many of them are even working in Spain. My country must consider offering foreign language(s) again as a course in both high school and college.

Anyway, from the Union Station, I take three stairs down to get a subway train that takes me to Pershing Square. Not a big deal. It is a five minute metro ride.

Look! It's not boring waiting for the subway train. At Pershing Square there are art works also made from neon lights to feast one's eyes on.

And I have a choice how to get out of the subway. I can take the stairs or the escalators.

Once I am out of the train station at Pershing Square, I am engulfed with beautiful and imposing high-rise buildings in downtown Los Angeles.

And this:

Nevertheless, I have to turn my back away and walk three blocks down the financial district of Los Angeles to begin my day in Skid Row.

I cross the Los Angeles street and see all the small shops selling all kinds of wares. One can get 3 pairs of shoes for $18 or a Lakers shirt for less than $5. Just realize now that Skid Row is not really scary to be walking around, despite those homeless people walking and idling around. Hence, if you'd like to get items at low cost, this place in Los Angeles would be the best place. One can haggle, too.

One could find everything here even dirty pavements...

And toilets! I am now in Skid Row.

I begin to see thousands of people in the street sitting in a small park or on the side of the streets, some selling cigarette sticks to other homeless friends and passers-by, and some are pushing their wheelchair or shopping carts full of belongings. Others are talking to themselves. Again, don't be alarmed. Just don't be ostentatious with bling-blings. Play it simple while on or near Skid Row.

They are waiting for meals and other social services offered by different agencies, like the Los Angeles Rescue Mission...

and the Union Rescue Mission...

This is my fifth week helping serve lunch to the homeless at Union Rescue Mission. It's a busy day, but I am always enjoying it. I can interact with different kinds of people. I can observe how people cope up with nothingness. Most importantly, I am learning how to assign a realistic behavior to my novel's main character.

I am pretty sure other volunteers are also enjoying their time in Skid Row. Just look at these group from Judson International School of Pasadena.

After serving food and cleaning the tables, they joyfully help in the kitchen.

Oh, yes, they are middle school kids under the supervision of their teachers, Sandy Halley and Kathy Pilgrim. And what a surprise! Kathy is also a member of Lake Avenue Sanctuary Choir; however, it is at Skid Row where we know each other. The Sanctuary Choir at Lake Avenue Church has more than 100 members and our two-hour choir rehearsals on Thursdays has been focus on learning and rehearsing 10 songs. No real time for socialization.

If you love God, you could come over sometime in Skid Row and offer your helping hand to make a difference in the lives of homeless people. Remember this: He who has pity on the poor lends to the Lord, and that which he has given He will repay to him (Prov. 19:17). And the King said, "Truly I tell you, in so far as you did it for one of the least of these My brethren, you did it for Me" (Matthew 25:40).

Please join us sometime and be blessed.

(NOTE: I would like to invite you to check my 25-minute Poetry Reading on Channel 56. My friend uploaded it on You Tube 3 days ago. If you'd like to get a copy of my books, you could check out Amazon.com, Barnes & Nobel, Borders.com, Target.com, Vromans, and other online outlets. Also, if you're in California and Hawaii, you could tune in Channel 18 at 4:30 pm on June 8th. Jannelle So invited me to guest (again) in her show, KABABAYAN LA, to talk about the languages in the Philippines. I hope Jannelle would upload our discussion on You Tube, especially that some of my out of state and U.K. friends told me that they also would like to listen to the discussion. Thanks guys and Happy Weekend. Edmund Industan)

Filipino Language & Other Philippine Languages on Channel 18

2009-05-30T18:09:00.000-07:00

A PHOTO W/ MY WIFE, ANGIE, & JANNELLE SO (May 27,2009)

What is a Filipino language? This was one of the questions that Jannelle So, the beautiful host of Channel 18's Kababayan L.A., asked in her email couple of days ago, and she wanted it discuss in one of her Pre-Independence Day programs.

Apparently, some of our kababayans here in the U.S. has been suggesting that they would like her to speak in Filipino, since her program is specifically catering to the Filipino community. But is there really a Filipino language? If she would speak plain Tagalog (Filipino (?)) in the program, would she not alienate some Filipinos or Filipino-Americans who are non-native Tagalog speakers?

I was Jannelle's guest on May 27th to promote my two published books, KOILAWAN and PRAISING ALL SEASONS LONG, and my experimental performance poetry, Hey-Dasang. I probably have done pretty well that day, despite my thick Tagalog accent, that she expressed, after the show, her plan to invite me again. And I wasn't surprised when I received her email inviting me to guest on June 8th.

So, I would like to invite you all to watch Channel 18's Kababayan L.A. from 4:30 to 5:00 p.m. on June 8th. Besides me, Jannelle also has invited a linguist. Well, I am not a linguist. I am a sociologist with a modest research experiences in ethnology and linguistics.

I believe this discussion on Filipino, as a language, is a "first" without the presence of Filipino language planners, academicians, and politicians. Hence, I can assure you all that we will be taking up the language issue head-on and free of bias.

People In Skid Row

2009-05-23T09:46:00.000-07:00

Yesterday, May 22nd, I again was in Skid Row for my volunteer work with the Union Rescue Mission. Fortunately, I was requested to man the bread station, and not the lettuce or the chopped tomatoes, the stewed diced white meat or the corn. All of these require the servers to move fast for the trays to get into the hands of those on line. We have white bread, raisin bread, and rye bread, so I often asked which one would they prefer to have. This allowed me to look at everyone and observe those who already were eating. I also have the opportunity to tell them to enjoy their meal and that 'Jesus loves them'.

Young and old Asians, African-Americans, Hispanics, and Caucasians were represented. Sane, insane, shabbily dressed, and formally dressed were there to be served lunch. There was even a guy, who was wearing a clean coat and tie, so opposite to a guy, who wore a dirty pair of shoes and a black plastic trash bag to cover his upper body.

Certainly, homelessness doesn't excuse any nationality. Sometimes, it hits someone, because of extravagance and addiction; many times it victimizes someone, because of job loss and unemployment. Nevertheless, the one that touches me most, besides those hapless children, are those with mental instability.

I can't help myself, but to sympathize for those I saw staring blankly at their food, talking and laughing as they talked either to their food trays or to imaginary someones beside them. Most of the time, they were the last ones to turn their trays in. Others don't even have the time to finish their food before the security officer would announce that their eating time is up.

But you know what; you cannot underestimate homeless people. Even though most don't observe cleanliness, many still do.

In between service, servers have to clean tables. We were supposed to dispose our old gloves, washed our hands properly before wearing another clean pair of gloves. In one occasion, one of the lady volunteer inadvertently forgot to dispose her latex gloves. She immediately went to her station, because the next serve was about to begin. Immediately, a homeless lady called the attention of the supervisor to report it.

So, when you're on Skid Row doing some volunteer work, forget the idea, for once, that they sleep on a card boards, tattered tents, or plastic tarps at nighttime. Many of those who don shabby or showy dresses cannot just be taken for granted.

And if you have time or a dime to spare, open up your heart or pocket to help URM and other agencies on Skid Row. Yesterday, URM run out of disposable plastic gloves. All the agencies are non-profits; thus operating by faith. Come on. Let's help them a little.

The dining hall and the food counter in this clip are that of the Union Rescue Mission.

A Brief Face-to-face talk with a Kid on Skid Row

2009-05-13T00:19:00.000-07:00

Lunch at the Union Rescue Mission (URM) is served in three batches. First serve is at 11a.m., exclusively for men, who are in URM's Recovery, Apprenticeship, and Transitional Living Programs. Second serve is at 12p.m., exclusively for women and women with children. This includes women, who lives in the street. Third serve is at 2p.m., exclusively for men, who are not in the URM program;hence, every homeless men is welcome. A slice of meat, a scoop of rice or mashed potato, a half-cup of cooked vegetables, a bowl of green salad (sometimes a scoop of fruit) and a slice of bread comprise lunch. Besides serving the food, we also have to clean the tables before the next batch of people comes in.

It was during the second serve last Friday, May 8th, when I got the chance to talk face-to-face with a 4-year old girl on Skid Row. Her mom and her three sisters regularly eat at URM. Almost all the women have left the dining hall. I was cleaning one of the tables near the water fountain, when she was trying to get her drink. The mom was about 15 yards away feeding the youngest daughter. She tried to reach for the paper cup, but she was a little short. I went near her and asked if she would like my help. Instead of answering, she just stood motionless, staring at me. That few seconds of silence tore me apart. Her eyes was calm, yet sharp. She did not call her mom, but she seemed to size me up whether I was a good or a bad guy. Then, after she realized that I was one of those who served them food, her facial expression changed in an instant. I saw in her eyes a helpless child, who have been harboring pain and exhaustion, sleepy yet awake, trying to grow up fast. She smiled wryly and said, "Yes, please."

I know that these children have no other choice, but to live on Skid Row. They were collateral victims of poverty, unemployment, lack of affordable housing, substance abuse, domestic violence, changes and cuts in public assistance (welfare) program, and job loss. Statistics on families with children who are homeless each night in Los Angeles County is 29% of 84,000 homeless people.

Without help from non-profit organizations, such as Union Rescue Mission, Los Angeles Mission, The Midnight Mission, etc., these children will literally be out sleeping in tents, on cardboards, or in plastic tarps.

Yes, education in the U.S. is mandatory. Every school age child is required to be in school on weekdays, except if a child has health issue or family emergency. That 4-year old girl should had been in pre-school. However, some homeless moms just do not have the means to take their kids to school even if education is free. I probably have to be at Skid Row before 6 a.m. one of these days to check if there are orange (school) buses picking up the kids for school.

After lunch service was over, I decided to walk around to do more observation. I saw a little place called School-On-Wheels. Compared to the buildings of other non-profit organizations on Skid Row, School-On-Wheels is just a molehill. It has been run by a retired nun. It's window has been decorated with cut-up paper arts. It's facade is so modest that my heart falls for it. I hope to stop by in one of these days to check its program. If its mission suits me, especially on the spiritual aspect of its program, I probably would be giving to School-On-Wheels one day of my two days beginning next month. If not, then, I would be sticking both of my days with URM's kitchen and, later, in it's Learning Center.

ON L.A SKID ROW: Homeless People is Worth My Time

2009-05-09T11:18:00.000-07:00

I have been hearing on the radio and seeing on TV the Skid Row of Los Angeles. However, I never have seen it first-hand. Living in Pasadena, a very progressive suburbian city of Los Angeles county, yet haven't gone to Skid Row? That's ludicrous!

Call me hypocrite! Label me so insincere to the academic discipline that I spent so much time on. What happened?

The news about Skid Row gave creeps and chills; too risky for me to dare. I thought that those count of 84,000 homeless people in Los Angeles county, many of them are in Skid Row, were scarier than living and interacting with the Ata Manobo tribe of so. Philippines, who were considered by the early Philippine historian as the fiercest warriors of Mindanao. I was so intimidated.

Watch this clip from You Tube and see what I mean.

Nevertheless, while I started brainstorming on my first novel, Skewed Triad; No More: The Novel, I thought that Skid Row would be an excellent setting for a badly disfigured Filipino-American woman to regain completely her self-confidence and self-worth. Consequently, I mustered courage to visit and observe the "Third World" of Los Angeles,The Skid Row.

The traffic at the freeway was heavy that Thursday morning, so I decided to take the Metro train, Gold line. Pasadena to Union Station, the main hub, was only half an hour ride. At the Union Station, I walked two stairs down to take a subway Metro that took me to Pershing Square right at the Los Angeles financial center.

Believe me, just three blocks from Pershing Square, I already smelled the stink of a slum area, saw the roguishness of many untidy street people, and felt that I was rooted off the great city, despite those tall buildings. I slowed down starting to observe. Many were standing and talking in the street, especially near the buildings of non-profit organizations serving three-square meals a day and offering home and shelter to fortunate homeless families and individuals. Some people were yelling at each other; a few were walking erratically. Others were involved in some transaction of some sort.

I continued my walk for a few more blocks and I felt I was one of them. The smell became normal; the sight became ordinary, yet strange. I started to empathize with these less fortunate. I began to think of doing some volunteering in one of the soup kitchens. I went inside the building of Union Rescue Mission. After a talk with a Volunteer Supervisor, I decided to be a server at lunch time on Mondays and Fridays. Join me in this adventure at Skid Row in my next blogs.

MID-SPRING SONNET & WEDDING HAIKU

2009-04-29T18:05:00.000-07:00

It is almost mid-spring and the weather in so. California feels like it. Tomorrow is also the last day of National Poetry Month. That said, I am bidding the month of April goodbye and welcoming the month of May, the month of wedding preparation, with two of my poems.

THE ROCK IN MID-SPRING
(Shakespearean sonnet)

The only rock so big with gorgeous top;
Looks like a lion roaring at the sky.
Those naked grass and shrubs in their long nap,
Made desert dry and boring to the eye.

The climate changed; the aura turned around.
I looked below and saw gold carpeting.
Green shrubs throughout and life was on the ground,
So pretty all around; it’s now mid-spring.

Reality sank in; I knew in full.
I was the best before, but now no more.
Those withered plants now green and colorful
Ah, spring, you changed my thought who to adore.

Just one of them, the best that I can claim,
My time is up and now their turn for fame.

(c) edmund melig industan, 2009

I wrote this sonnet to appreciate the green shrubs and desert blooms, that I failed to look at my favorite boulder of rock proudly sitting atop the mountain, as we drove back from Las Vegas, Nevada to Pasadena. Ah! man is like that rock. He doesn't always get the adulation. All man can do is to stay focus and firm. Soon, season will turn again in full circle.

And for those preparing to march down the aisle before the end of spring, here is one of the wedding haiku verses in my gift book, PRAISING ALL SEASONS LONG (Comfort Publishing, 2009).

Marching day and night
White gowns and candle lights
Praise God! He is love.

Take care now, guys.

NOTE: Looking for a wedding gift that is cheaper than a dozen roses? Why not consider giving a copy of my gift book, PRAISING ALL SEASONS LONG? Now available in US, Canada, Japan, France , UK, Germany, and The Netherlands.

BUKIDNON, MY HOME: Final Lyric from my End

2009-04-24T08:31:00.000-07:00

Mga sulled ku:

Thank you very much to all of you who have interacted with me or responded to my call regarding the suggested revision of "Bukidnon, My Home".

Since several of you have requested if you could copy or sing the song using my suggested revision, I decided to pour more time onto it. It is my utmost desire to be as close as possible to the English version and be as dynamic, vis-a-vis to the current trends on migration, nationalism, fertility, land grabbers, etc.

Some of you have insinuated that you would like to help me on the revision by either doing a survey or interview. Hence, even though this is the final suggestion from my end, you could still send me your much needed comments and suggestions. Like you, I would love to have a provincial anthem that I really could be proud of.

"BUKIDNON, BANUWA KU"

Bisan pa hindu a
Lalag ku'g uli` a
Dini ta Bukidnon
Kanak ha banuwa
Buntod ha matangkaw,
Kalasan...makapal,
Patag ha malu-ag,
Na tungkay madagway.

Chorus:

Bukidnon ha banuwa ku
Dini ka ta pusung ku.
Langit nu bon kadagway,
Hadi ku agkalipatan.
Bukidnon ha bugta ku
Dakol sa goinawa nu.
Ka-uyagan, in-ila` nu,
Ngaran nu, hitindugan ku.

Note: I didn't touch the first stanza. Please refer to my previous blog, "Bukidnon, My Home: Revisited", for its English translation.

Now, here's the English translation of the chorus.

Bukidnon, my town/province.
You are here in my heart.
Your sky is so beautiful,
I never can forget.
Bukidnon, my land.
You have a big breath (love).
Means-of-living, you have given,
Your name, I will stand-for (protect).

Here's the chorus of the original Binukid version with its English back translation.

Bunturun, balalayan,
Basakan, kapatagan,
pastuhan, kapinyahan,
ba alan-alan ka-uyagan.
Langit din pig-aldawan,
piglambongan, pig-uranan,
sirungan, uranan.
ba alan-alan ka-uyagan.

Its English back translation:

Mountainous, hilly,
Rice paddy, plains,
Grassy-for-grazing, pineapple farm,
But all are means-of-living.
Its sky is sun-drenched,
laid-with-overcast, rained-on,
(?), to-be-rained-on
But all are means-of living.

I put a question mark as an English equivalent of "sirungan", because I really haven't heard this word but in this chorus. T.S. Sungkit, the author of the novel, "Batbat Hi Udan" commented about this word in my previous blog, "Bukidnon, My Home; Revisited". Check out my Feb. 15 blog.

And here's the English version.

BUKIDNON, MY HOME

Wherever I may roam
The distant land to see
I long to go back home
To sweet Bukidnon home
Her lovely mountains high
Her forest old and grand
Bring memories to me
The home I long to see.

Chorus:
There my heart, yearns to be
In far away, Bukidnon land.
Under its blue starry sky,
Where love and joy never die.
(Repeat)

By the way, Walter Balane, a local journalist and writes the blogs, "Istambay sa Mindanaw" and "Bukidnon Our Home", asked me on the lyricist of the original version and the date the song was written.

I really don't know. I have been singing the Binukid version even when I was still in the elementary. That was 50 years ago. Despite my old age, I never learned who wrote the song. I asked a few to do research on this, but I received nothing.

This is the best hunch that I can give you. It is very possible that an American Baptist missionary wrote the English version in the 1940s. Miss Little, the Atherton, the Kohler(?) are a few name that I can remember. Then, a Bukidnon was asked to write the Binukid text. I remembered my father, who grew up and studied with these American missionaries, when he told me that some of them were requested to help in the translation of English Christian songs to Binukid. He mentioned the name of Pastor Sinagda, Pastor Sinohon, or that long-time pastor of Can-ayan (whose name has eluded me, while writing this blog). Too bad, all of them have already passed. It couldn't be the Summer Institute of Linguistics (Nasuli), because SIL was invited to do language research and translation in the Philippines by Pres. Ramon Magsaysay in 1953.

Anyway, the old Binukid version is now a public domain. Besides, it's possible that there was no copyright law that time. It could have been great to acknowledge those who burned their midnight candles to come up with the Binukid lyric. So, whoever and wherever you are, THANK YOU for writing the Binukid lyric of "Bukidnon, My Home". You have given us, the sons and daughters of Bukidnon province, a pride worth remembering and sharing. However, with our access to modern science of linguistics and translation, hope it is alright with you for us to do some major revision of its chorus.

And to all present tagaBukidnons, feel free to copy, share, and sing this new translation in your social or official functions. I don't intend to copyright this. It is my humble contribution to the music and arts; the culture, in general, of Bukidnon.

Now, mga higala, it's time for you to send me your feedback. Is this revision better than the old one? Is the message closer to the English version?

Marakol tungkay ha salamat.

April: National Poetry Month

2009-04-19T00:22:00.000-07:00

April is National Poetry Month. American Academy of Poets initiated it in 1996. To celebrate it, I am posting two of my poems beginning this week.

I have thought of posting one of my poems about spring, because fourth week of spring had just ended. However, the temperature here in Southern California this Sunday is expected to be in 3-digit level. And, well, it is summer in the Philippines, my home country;hence, I have decided to give you this poem, instead.

OH, SUMMER LOVE
(a Triolet)

Oh, Summer Love, you’re hot as season brings
Exuding beauty reaching digit three;
All eyes in you: the paupers and the kings,
Oh, Summer Love, you’re hot as season brings.
Wish you will lend your ears as my heart sings,
A melody that’s from a bourgeoisie;
Oh, Summer Love, you’re hot as season brings.
…Exuding beauty reaching digit three.

Edmund Melig Industan

By the way, my gift book, PRAISING ALL SEASONS LONG: Haiku Verses, is now available in France (Amazon.fr), Japan (Amazon.jp), The Netherland (Von Stockum.nl), Germany (Amazon.de, Bookya.de, and AbeBooks.de), Canada (Amazon.ca), and in the U.K. (Amazon.co.uk). Also, Amazon.com (US) has announced that it only has one copy left in stock, but more are coming. You also can get a copy at Barnes &Noble, Borders.com, Target, and Comfort Publishing. So, I would appreciate it very much if you could place your order now. Thank you very much.

And here's one haiku in the Spring Section of PRAISING ALL SEASONS LONG (Comfort Publishing, 2009). This haiku is best as we celebrated Easter just a week past.

Life has shown in spring.
Temporal! Eternal life!
Green in thoughts and sights!

Have a good week to you all.

GOOD FRIDAY: In PRAISING...VERSES

2009-04-11T08:18:00.000-07:00

VINEGAR AND SAP...
OFFERED TO QUENCH A DRY CORD!
IT'S HOT MOCKING DAY.

THORNS AND LASHES FELT.
WOUNDED DAYS FOR HEAV'N AND EARTH.
HEAT AND HATE UNITE.

SUFFERING IN STRIDE!
MEEKLY GIVING UP THE DAY.
EARTHLY LIFE EXPIRED.

WORLD'S IN FULL DECAY.
SPRINGS OF LIFE HE LEFT TO SAVE.
WHAT...CHAOTIC DAY!

from:Praising All Seasons Long
Comfort Publishing, 2009

Why has this day of Jesus' suffering on the cross been called "good"?

Reading Matthew 26 and 27, Mark 14 and 15,Luke 22 and 23, and John 18 and 19, we know that Jesus suffered a lot. He showed the human side of him by feeling the pain. He showed sorrow and heaviness of heart. He prayed to let the "cup pass from Him". Nevertheless, He also knew that His suffering was part of the plan. He came to save the troubled world. And this is why we have called the "Day of Agony" good. It is the day that the ultimate price of our sin is paid. It is the day God gives everyone the ultimate gift of love. All we have to do is to acknowledge and accept Him as our Lord and Savior.

Today is the Easter vigil. Let's continue to contemplate the death of Jesus. Let us meditate the verses in John 19: 38-42. Let's be ready to welcome Christ's resurrection.

Blessings!

NOTE: If you live close to Pasadena, California and would like to celebrate the "Day of Ressurection" this Sunday, come and worship with us at Lake Avenue Church.

The 9am and 11am services will begin with a concerto for two violinists and strings in A minor (Vivaldi). The Sanctuary Choir will follow it with "Easter Song" (arranged by Hayes). The church will then sing "Christ is Risen Today" and "In Christ Alone/The Solid Rock". A soloist will render "I Know that My Redeemer Liveth" (Handel). The Symphony Orchestra will play "Variations on a Theme by Haydn" (Brahms). The choir will sing "Worthy is the Lamb" (Handel's Messiah) before the message of Dr. Greg Waybright, Lake's Senior Pastor and former president of Trinity International University in Illinois.

Maunday Thursday Haiku & Good Friday Concert

2009-04-08T08:33:00.000-07:00

PRAISING GOD FOR PESAH
SIGNS OF LOVE AND PROTECTION
NIGHT WAILS SURVIVED.
from: "Praising All Seasons Long"
(Comfort Publishing, 2009)

Pesah is a Jewish Festival celebrating the exodus of the Israelites from Egypt and Maundy Thursday is the day in which Christians around the world remember the Last Supper, the last meal that Jesus shared with His disciples. Maunday comes from the Latin maundatum, which means "mandate".

Reading Exodus 12, we know that God instituted the Passover for Moses to mandate the Israelites to celebrate for the following day they finally will be allowed to leave Egypt. Along with the mandate, rules were established (vv.43-49) and to keep the Passover as a memorial. Likewise, Jesus mandated his disciples at the Last Supper to eat the bread and the wine "in remembrance of me" (Luke 12:17-20 and 1 Corinthians 11:23-25). Maunday Thursday is the annual observance of the Last Supper, few hours before Jesus died on the cross.

Just as God showed His love and protection to the Israelites through a thick cloud at daytime and a fire at nighttime when they left Egypt, He showed his love and protection to us through the death of Jesus. No one can save mankind from the sinful world. It is only God's sacrificial love who can save us. It is only in God's love that man can survive this troubled world. How wonderful to remember God's love for mankind this Passion Week.

To celebrate this Passion Week, I would like to invite you, if you are living close to Pasadena, CA, to join us this Good Friday at Lake Avenue Church. The Concert will be a wonderful way to remember the sufferings that Jesus experienced at Calvary. It starts at 7:00 p.m., an hour long.

The service will begin with an organ prelude, finishing it with Albinoni. Then, seven (7) short scripture readings will follow with instrumental interlude of flute, viola, clarinet, horn, bassoon, oboe, and violin.

The Sanctuary Choir with the accompaniment of the Symphony Orchestra will sing the following:
1. Thy Will Be Done (Courtney)
2. O The Deep, Deep Love of Jesus (Ebenezer)
3. Behold The Lamb of God (Handel's Messiah)
4. Surely He Hath Brone Our Griefs ( Messiah)
5. Alas,and Did My Savior Bleed (Watts/Wilson: Arranged by Forrest)
6. When I Survey The Wondrous Cross (Martin)

Before the Sanctuary Choir sings the finale, "God So Loved the World" (Schirmer), the Symphony Orchestra will be playing "Pavane"(Faure).

Come and join us on Friday. Music will be great.

OH, IT'S LENT SEASON

2009-04-04T16:34:00.000-07:00

Hi guys,

A friend sent his apology over the phone on Monday morning. He told me that as much as he would like to express his thoughts about my "Joking-Up, Joking-Down" blog, he would rather not. I asked him the reason. He told me, "It's Lent Season!" Time to remember the death of Christ. Time not to create controversy and hate."

My bad! I never thought that my last week's blog would send a wrong signal. Nevertheless, I know where my friend is coming from. Using Carlos Mencia's humor on the Filipinos created a "red signal". The truth is that I never plan to stir controversy and hate. In fact, my line of thought was socially correct. Sorry guys. I will bring the subject on "Joking-Up, Joking-Down" some other time.

Anyways, my friend is absolutely right. This is Lent Season. In fact, this is Triumphal Entry weekend. Tomorrow is Palm Sunday...the Day of Acclaim...the beginning of the "week that changed the world" also known as Passion Week. Most will be recollecting how Jesus, the Messiah, entered Jerusalem on a humble beast of burden, albeit an animal of peace.

Unlike Caesar or Alexander the Great, who had triumphal entries to cities with 1,000 lancers on horseback, followed by 2,000 trumpeters, 1,000 swordsmen, 30,000 foot soldiers and another 1,000 trumpeters behind, to proclaim his greatness and power; Jesus, the Messiah, entered Jerusalem on a humble donkey. There were no trumpeters, soldiers and horsemen, just a crowd of followers waving palm branches and laying their garments on the Jesus' path.

At Lake Avenue Church, the Sanctuary Choir will be singing "Lift Up Your Heads, O Ye Gates" and an oratorio,"Let your Eye Be to the Lord". Then, on Holy Friday, a mini-concert will be held. We, the Sanctuary Choir, will be singing "Behold the Lamb of God ( from Handel's Messiah), "Surely He hath Borne our Griefs" (another some from Handel's Messiah),and four(4) other songs. The Sanctuary orchestra will be accompanying us.

Everyone is welcomed. It's free. So, if you're near Pasadena, California, come join us on Friday night, 7:30 pm. Lake Avenue Church members have been advised to park at Gateway parking across I-210 freeway, so that guests can park at the church parking area.

See you on Friday, then.

NOTE: My gift book, PRAISING ALL SEASONS LONG, can now be ordered on Borders.com. It still can be purchased at Target, Barnes & Noble, Amazon.com, and Comfort Publishing online store. To those who already have bought their copies, 'THANK YOU VERY MUCH."

JOKING-DOWN & JOKING-UP on ONE'S IDENTITY: (1)

2009-03-28T00:07:00.000-07:00

Hey guys,

Thursday night is our Choir Rehearsal. In every choir member's pigeon hole are 20 or more song sheets. Of the 20, we usually practice about a dozen. So, 15 minutes before the rehearsal starts, all members have to arrange the song sheets based on what the choir conductor is planning to have us sing that night.

One Thursday, as we were sorting our individual song sheets, a Caucasian guy sitting near me was having problem looking for one of the songs. He was about to give up, when I stood up to help. The song sheet was right on his nose, on top of the others song sheets, which he placed aside. I said, "Be thankful that I have a broad nose!" and we all laughed our hearts out.

Now, listen to this very brief You Tube clip on Carlos Mencia's humor on the Filipinos. (Oh, sorry guys, when I checked it on You Tube again, the clip was deleted.)

However, if you would still like to listen to it, check it out by entering on search, video detective:Carlos Mencia in The Best of Funny is Funky Scene.

Anyway, Carlos Mencia's joke was like this:

Filipinos!
What's your name? (Talking to a Filipino in the audience)
John. (The guy's response)
What are the original Filipino names? You don't know? Is your father from the Philippines? Does your father still not pronounce the /f/?
(The audience laughs)
No, people from the Philippines have no /f/ in their vocabulary. So, that's why when you ask them, they'll say, "I'm prom the Pilippines!"
(The audience laughs)

Carlos humor is based on truth. However, would you find it funny if you are a Filipino?

Would you still consider it funny if you'd know that Carlos Mencia is Latino? (Yes, his father is Honduran; his mother is Mexican.)

Kindly write me your thoughts, either right under this blog or through my email, edMindustan@gmail.com. I would like to have a hearty discussion on joking-down and joking-up on one's identity and what it's got to do with "being comfortable in your own skin".

Have a good weekend, guys.

SUPPORTING CLIPS ON PAST COMMUNICATION BLOGS

2009-03-21T09:27:00.000-07:00

Hi guys,

I hope you're not tired yet of reading a blog on the barriers to effective cross-cultural communication.

Now, here are three clips from You Tube, which I would like you to see.

Again, these clips prove our points in previous blogs.

Employees of call centers usually follow a script when interacting with clients. The script, which is a coherent sequence of events that they expect to follow, seemingly makes their job easy. Having a script allow them to become more conscious of their diction (slang as many non-native English speakers erroneously calls it).

Nevertheless, there comes a time when relying in script does not help at all. Second clip proves that. The agent tried to follow the script;however, the client doesn't want to. The client has been frustrated. The client wanted to have an immediate solution to his problem. It is in this scenario that the work in a call center doesn't look easy. Tension builds up, as a result, agents get's rattled. Agents become conscious of their behavior. At a call center, usually such behavior may generally be interpreted as your speech pattern. Agents, himself, becomes at the witting end of frustration. Slurs and other expletives could be thrown at each other. Composure would be out of line (clip #3). Unconsciously, non-native English agents would resort back to their normal diction, even hurl local expletives to a client.

According to Berger and Douglas (1982) these unconscious behavior may happen at these following scenario: 1) When a novel situation exist. 2) Where an external factors prevent completion of a script. 3) When scripted behavior becomes so difficult to enact. 4) When a discrepant outcome is experienced, or 5) When multiple scripts come into conflict.

Call center agents, therefore, cannot just rely on the script, which they learned and memorized during training. They have to learn the language and the culture of their clients by heart. The agent on clip#3 definitely might have thought that to be cute is the same as geniality. When the outcome was negative, he got rattled and ended up losing his "cool".

I hope that these clips would challenge those who are considering to in a call center to be seriously ready. Definitely, with the outsourcing of big industrial companies, more call center agents are needed. Are you ready?

PRAISING ALL..: Featured Book in 9 Local Papers

2009-03-16T17:48:00.000-07:00

"Haiku Verses Offer Inspiration", the title of Michelle J. Mills feature column on Pasadena Star News, San Gabriel Valley Tribune, Whittier Daily News, and 5 other local papers here in So. California on Sunday, March 15th. Then, she opened her column with a question: "Need a snippet of inspiration or an entire book?"

Reading the words was a joy to me. Why? I tell you why. She was talking about my book, PRAISING ALL SEASONS LONG, which has been in the market this month.

Ms. Mills article went on: "Praising All Seasons Long" offers both snippet of inspiration and a book as it is comprised of 145 haiku verses praising God and His gifts throughout the year.

It's true. PRAISING ALL SEASONS LONG, is a small gift book. It only has 56 pages, but it depicts different events from winter to fall. There are 3-line verses on the shedding of the leaves, the melting of the snow, the blooming of the flowers, the chirping of the birds, the celebration of the resurrection, the observance of Christ's death, the weddings in June, even of gnomes and leprechauns. Spring chapter has these two(2) verses:
Welcome, weather spring
Hot and cold, tornadoes scare.
We are in God's care.

Life springs up so fast.
Wonder how it comes about?
Miracle and love!

Then, as if Ms. Mills thought that I wasn't satisfied already with what she printed, she sent me an email to affirm that her review was honest and sincere. Here's the portion of it:

...I shared your book with my mother and she loved it so
much that she asked to hold on to it for a while. She wants to read
your poetry to one of her friends who is losing her sight. She hopes
it will provide her with inspiration and encouragement.

Thank you,
Michelle

Certainly, I was overjoyed. Nevertheless, I have to give the honor to God. The idea of this book was all coming from Him. I also was having problem at the time God had me wrote the verses. It was a therapy. It was a healing balm. I even didn't know what I was writing when I first got up that night. I was in tears. It was my first time to hold a pen for serious writing after almost three (3) months. Just before I finished writing the last few verses, all my body pain were gone. Joy had shown in my face. I started doing my long distance run again. I was completely healed. PTL!

If you would like to read more of the story behind the writing of PRAISING ALL SEASONS LONG, kindly visit my new Facebook publisher page, Edmund Melig Industan. I hope and pray that may these haiku verses be a blessing not only to me, but to all who have the chance to read them.

If you have friends and family members who need comfort and encouragement at this time of economic uncertainties, PRAISING ALL SEASONS LONG is a good gift book to share to them. Priced at $ 9.99, it is cheaper than a dozen roses. It is a good eternal investment.

PRAISING ALL SEASONS LONG was published by Comfort Publishing. It can be ordered on Comfort Publishing fb page or online store. It also can be ordered through Barnes & Noble, Amazon.com, and Target.

Attitude Affects Effective Cross-cultural Communication

2009-03-13T16:29:00.000-07:00

Here's a clip from You Tube that summarizes the point I mentioned in my previous blogs. Hope you'll enjoy it.

I apologize for the cuss words. It is not my cup of tea, because I don't cuss at all. However, I decided to show the clip to bring home the message of my previous blogs. So now, we understand each other.

This clip from You Tube does not only tells us why we need to have clear diction and cultural knowledge, we also have to take very special consideration on the psychological aspect of communication across culture.

Psycholinguists and cognitive anthropologists point out that the way a person organizes his thoughts reflects on what he thinks about the world. A narrow-minded or conceited person would view the world through a small mirror, that how he/she would perceive the world and how he/she would put meaning into what he/she would see and hear would often times unwelcoming to others.

Definitely, such cognitive process would affect his/her attitude towards somebody and, ultimately, would translate to the tone of his/her voice. We don't need to read a book to be aware of this. We all have been victimized with this.

Probably those non-native English speakers, who now are employees of call centers, could attest that they have interacted with clients who cuss and use ethnophaulism. Ethnophaulism could either be name-calling or slur of ones nationality, explicit group devaluation, or disparaging nicknames. Others would slammed the phone at them. Actions like these are not only products of frustration and disgust. They also are a product of anger. Globalization have taken away some opportunities for their children, relatives, and friends to find jobs. Globalization has been giving them difficulty to immediately get their thoughts across, because those persons at the other end of the phones are having problem communicating with them. Instead of the "world getting smaller everyday", in terms of understanding and goodwill, the world has created a chasm of indifference.

Cases of anger and indifference always happen. The way to offset these could be the following: Swallow your pride and ignore those negative responses. Remember that your client has a different cultural and psychological make-up. Also, remember the maxim that a client is "always" right. So, don't hurl fire with fire. You'd get fired if you'd do that. Be patient. Don't take the negativity to heart. You'd get over it. If the client pauses, butt in by expressing an apology using your sweetest tone and clearer diction. Say the sentence normally; don't slow it down. Slowing the sentence down would aggravate your client all the more, because slowing down would mean that you are treating him like a stupid person. And I cannot reiterate this enough: Practice and more practice. Learn the culture and the language very well.

For those who are still preparing for a job, begin to double your effort to learn. Be serious with your studies. Realize that it is not only those who are preparing for a teaching job that need to communicate effectively. Everyone who would like to get a job needs to have a good command of the English language. It is your key to a successful job hunting and a joyous life.

Clear Diction and Tone: Essentials to Effective Communication

2009-03-04T18:41:00.000-08:00

Thursday night is our Sanctuary Choir rehearsal. The 150 members, who are either music educators, music artists, former ministers of music, or members of the Los Angeles Opera Chorus, and a few, like me, ordinary singers, sang their hearts out as they learned 10 songs, from classics to Oratorio, from old hymns to contemporaries, and from English to German and Spanish.

You're asking for my qualifications for joining this group of professionals? Well, let me put it this way. I and a few others are the thorns in the bush. hehehe... Unfortunately, with my height, I have been assigned in the first center row...so conspicuous to thousands of church goers even with the presence of the church symphony orchestra; hence, I have to fake sometimes. When there's a grave at the very end of our song and I already run out of gas, I would just open my mouth as wide and beautiful, shape as precise as possible to the sound of the word, voiceless, just waiting for that kettle drum to be struck, so that I could change the placement of my lips to produce the last phone.

I actually know how to "sight read"; I know all those musical notations. Besides of my mom's guidance, while I still have runny nose, I attended a Bible College in the Philippines for a year, where I formally learned how to sing well. Now don't ask for more; otherwise, I would be telling you that I am a videoke addict and the neighbors' "grammy awardee". Honestly, I am just waiting for some rocks to rain over our rooftop. Those rocks would indicate that my neighbors are bestowing that laurel to another competing neighbor in our ghetto. hahaha..

Anyways, during rehearsals, the music director always reminds us on basic things so that we can effectively convey God's message through our songs.

Last week, our music director reminded us that an expert singer must have the following:
1) Clear diction
2) Beautiful Tone
3) Good Posture
4) Markings on his musical scores
5) Watches the conductor's directives
He reminded us that as singers, we are setting a tone, conveying a message, and expressing a feeling that would prepare the hearts and minds of the congregation to listen to the Word of God.

Now, what's this got to do with effective communication in a regular setting?

I just would like to emphasize that, if in a choir a clear diction, beautiful tone, and paying attention are very essential, it is far more important to apply these daily at our workplace.

The message, when talking over the phone, may be misconstrued if we don't have a clear diction. We have to pronounce those letters well, so as not to be misunderstood. Most of our church choir members are native English speakers and music professionals, and yet our music director cannot just have enough to pound our head to enunciate the words clearly. This Sunday, our song has a phrase, "All Christ is, He is within us". We were reminded, time and again, to produce the sound of /t/ final in "Christ", because we don't want to convey the message that "All cries is He is within us". See the difference? Omitting the /t/ final would completely send a wrong message. With a 50-man symphony orchestra providing the accompaniment, we have to produce /t/ as loud as we could. In fact, I am a little nervous on Sundays. I'm afraid that my denture would fall off and it would hit either one of the violinists or the pianist who are sitting and playing right in front of me. It would be a disaster. hehehe.

Beautiful tone must be emphasized even in our daily conversation. Definitely, the tone has something to do with ones culture. That's why we hear some people commenting that 'he/she talks like a chirping bird', or 'he/she talks like a drum'. Others are turn off immediately even before someone opens his/her mouth, because the tone of his/her voice doesn't appeal to them. We sometimes say that a person is mad, even if he/she is really not, just because he/she drops his/her words like a bomb, or he/she shouts every time he/she talks. Honestly, I often times have to remind myself to tone down my voice when talking. Sorry, it is cultural for me to talk loud. Consequently, I sometimes forget that in some societies, the tone will either give a "green or red signal". Am I a good person? Absolutely; however, those who are not used to my culture would think otherwise.

I know... I know...it's a little difficult to polish the manner of speaking that has been ingrained in our psyche since birth, but constant practice has been a big help to me. Why not try it? You would see the difference.

P.S

For those who already have bought my gift book, PRAISING ALL SEASONS LONG: Haiku Verses, I thank you very much.

Also, I found out that Barnes & Noble has posted that they're now out of stock. I believe you could still place a pre-order with them. However, if you would like to have your copy very soon, you could place your order on Amazon.com, Target.com, and to the publisher, Comfort Publishing online store. Those who are considering to get their copy, I thank you very much. "PRAISING..." is only $9.99, "KOILAWAN" is $ 13.99, but you can get a discounted price in some online outlets.

Language & Culture: Essential for Effective Communication

2009-02-27T22:26:00.000-08:00

An Asian crooner was just picked up by her host at the Los Angeles International Airport. Feeling tired and sleepy, she decided to pass, when her host invited her to come with them to their concert. Just as her hosts left, the telephone rang. She picked it up.

"Hello! This is the coroner speaking," she said thinking that it was her host calling.(She had that nickname, because she used to sing in a small bar.)

"Hi,", a woman's voice answered. "May I talk to Tommy?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, mom, but Tommy just pass away."

"WHAT?" Shocked, the woman asked. "What about Linda?"

"I'm sorry, mom, Linda also pass away."

"You mean, my daughter also passed?"

"Yes, mom. They have a cancer."

"WHAT? May I know again who is talking?"

"This is Alona, the coroner.

********

An absolute mess. Certainly, the guest meant it well, but the message was not communicated well. Now, put yourself in the shoes of Linda's mom. How would you feel?

Sapir-Whorf hypothesis theorized that language is not only a tool to express ideas, it is itself the shaper of ideas. We express and shape ideas based on our culture and language ability. Definitely, Linda's mom was devastated after that short conversation.

What about when you are manning a call center? The call center agent interacts with a stranger everyday. Yes, he/she had a month of intensive training, but it certainly was not enough to know everything. And I am pretty sure, the trainer (hopefully a native English speaker or if not, has lived and interacted for many years with a native English speaker)have not taught them everything. The would-be agent must keep on practicing and learning the English language and the culture of his/her clients.

I will give myself as a case in point. My mother tongue or first language is Binukid, which is an indigenous language. My second language is Binisaya, which is also the lingua franca in southern Philippines. My third is Tagalog, which is the Philippine national language that I learned from school. My fourth is English, which I also learned alongside with Tagalog. So, I linguistically grew up with only four vocoids: /a/,/i/,/u/, and /e/. The sound of my /e/ is like that of /oo/ in "book"; however, when I produced the sound, my lips are unrounded. Instead, I produced /e/ with my mouth slightly stretch sideways, like posing a trace of a smile.

The sounds of my consonants are produced pretty much the same as in any other Philippine languages. Unlike in English, I produced my /t/ with the tip of my tongue touching the front of my palette, and voiced, not at the back of my teeth, and voiceless. Unlike in English, I produced my /d/ with the tip of my tongue touching the mid-section of my palette and voiced, not touching the back of my teeth, and voiced.

With such pronunciation used from childhood to college, it was a painstaking effort for me to unlearn and relearn. I felt bad that my English teachers from elementary to high school did not teach the proper English pronunciation, while my tongue was still soft and supple. I felt real bad, because my English Communication college professor, who earned his English degree from a very reputable private university in Manila, did not meticulously and exaggeratedly teach the class on phonics. All the while, I thought that my English was okay, because I was getting "A's" and "A minuses" in my English courses.(Definitely, my English, when written, was alright. Unfortunately, writing is different from speaking.)

I realized my shortcoming in the English language, when I took Orthography and Phonology courses in my graduate studies in applied linguistics. Slowly, but surely, my pitfall began to unravel. Often times, I stirred misconception and I vehemently reacted to the culture of my Australian colleague. In fact, I have been feeling embarrassed to say that I have caused them to end their work in southern Philippines 25 years ago after I wrote a despicable letter in reaction to one natural, idiomatically correct, English statement. I was very close to this couple. Matter of fact, they were one of my wedding sponsors. And I blew away my relationship with them. I ended their love to live and work in southern Philippines.

I have to unlearn my "carabao English". Sorry for the description. I don't want to label it as a "Filipino English", because there are Filipinos, who have been trained to speak the English language properly even when they were still in their mom's belly.

I have to learn the proper production of my vowel and consonant sounds. And, oh boy, despite several applied linguistic courses in graduate school, I didn't learn the proper English pronunciation overnight. Quite frankly, traces of my "carabao English pronunciation" still lingers unwittingly sometimes. That said, I still practice. My wife and my grandchildren still see me learning the nasal twang as I watch, listen, and mimic my favorite TV personalities. I still am learning.

I hope those call center aspirants, who are non-native English speakers, will do the same. Well, they have to double their effort, because they don't rub elbows with native English speakers most of the day. Nevertheless, they should not be discouraged. Just keep on learning both the English language and the culture. Practice, practice, practice! Exaggerate, exaggerate, exaggerate! Use the English language when talking either to yourself or friends. Definitely, you have to speak English to your teachers. Ignore those who laugh at you and label you as "trying hard" or "keeping up with the Joneses". You need it when applying for a job that requires a good command of English.

On Call Centers and Effective English Communication:

2009-02-21T00:28:00.000-08:00

Yesterday, I was surfing again hoping to find more websites and blogs with the song,"Bukidnon, My Home". While doing so, I happened to see a blog on the need for more call center employees. With economic crunch and company downsizing, posting of job is what our society needs.

I scrolled down to read some of the feedback and comments. Instead of comments, I saw resume, request for the agency's address, and messages with an intention to apply. I sympathized with those who left messages, because I read desperation. I also felt sad, because I saw proofs why those who were needing the job would never be hired.

Communication is getting one's idea across verbally or non-verbally. We communicate not only through a spoken language, but also through body stance, gesture, and tone of voice. All these have to be taken into serious consideration if we wanted to communicate effectively, especially to strangers.

One component of communication effectiveness is cognition. Cognition involves the manner in which we process and disseminate information and the knowledge we have about the stranger's culture. Therefore, cognitive process involves description, interpretation, and evaluation. And to effectively describe, interpret, and evaluate is to learn the language and the culture of the person that we are communicating with.

In a call center, body stance and gesture are not necessary; however, the spoken language ( in most cases, the English language) and the tone of voice, plus the knowledge of the client's culture, are a must. So, if somebody would like to work as a call center agent, he or she should try his/her very best to impress the would-be employer that he/she could execute the job very well.

Definitely, a call center is looking for workers who have good command of the English language. Applicants need not have a perfect English, because there is no such thing as perfect English. In the U.S.of A., many are using double negatives. For example, " I am not doing that, no more." Also, subject-verb disagreement is very common. For example, "They was here a minute ago." Accented English is very common, too. Accent of Texans is different from the Californians; accent of Tennesseans is different from Texans. However, once an American moves to another state, he/she tries to adapt the accent of his/her host. How? They try his/her best to reduce the nuances of his/her accent. This certainly is for the purpose of effective communication. Let me emphasize, though, that there is what we call informal and formal English; street or schooled English, and native-born and foreign-accented English. So, which one would you think is best for a call center agent? The answer, most definitely, is a good command of formal and educated English, with reduced traces of foreign accents.

I was disappointed that almost all those messages posted on that call center blog did not meet the requirements.

Here are some pieces of advice:

1) I encourage non-native English speakers to read, read, and read English books and magazines. Put away vernacular books and magazines for some time (Bisaya, Liwayway, etc.) and read more English books. Reading books is a big help to minimize subject-verb disagreements, dangling sentences, etc.

2) I also encourage them to tune in to TV channels with native English speakers or radio programs (Voice of America or BBC, for example)and, while they listen to that native English speaker, they should try to mimic and emulate the accent or the tone of that speaker's voice. Be keen when listening to and producing those diphthongs (long e's, short e's, oi, the schwa sound, etc.). For consonants, please pay attention particularly the beginning and final. Like vowels, consonants can be produced properly by the placement of your lips and tongue. For example, /b/ which is bilabial plosive can be produced properly by having your lower and upper lips touch each other before you let out that booming sound. Phonic /v/ can be produced by having your upper teeth touch your lower lip before you let out the sound. Produce the sound /t/ by placing the tip of your tongue at the back of your teeth before you say the letter.

3) English teachers must emphasize the importance of teeth, lips, tongue, palate, and glottis when teaching phonics to their students.

4) And students or parents, you should demand a good English teacher from the school administrator. This does not mean a charismatic or likable teacher. I mean a teacher, who knows the craft. English teachers with good command of the language, both in grammar, phonics, and accent reduction, are not only a must in college, they are a must in elementary grades, because that's where the language learning has to start.

Remember, it is not only a good command of grammar that a call center needs; a good pronunciation is also very much needed. Once you have the confidence in your grammar and phonics, reduction of foreign diction and accent will be as easy as eating an apple pie.

5) PRACTICE, PRACTICE, PRACTICE. EXAGGERATE, EXAGGERATE, EXAGGERATE. Twist, stretch, and curl that tongue to the max.

6) AND PLEASE LEARN TO ELIMINATE CODE-SWITCHING, when speaking. Using English as your initial phrase and completing the sentence in vernacular, or vice versa (code-switching), will not do you any good. It would become your habit; it would prevent you from speaking English fluently; it surely would be a dead-end in getting that job in any call center.

"BUKIDNON, MY HOME" REVISITED

2009-02-15T15:48:00.000-08:00

Sorry guys, this special blog is going provincial, specifically intended for my fellow "tagaBukidnon". Promise, my weekend blog would be intended for global reading.

The topic, the song "Bukidnon, My Home", is very close to my heart. It's the official song of my province in so. Philippines. It has been written and sung in both English and Binukid, my mother tongue; however, the Binukid lyric has been problematic. With my serious intention to include the song in my book project, BEDTIME-PASTIME (Kalanganan dun hu Ikam): Collections of Short Stories and Folktales, I decided to rewrite its Binukid chorus. So, mga sulled ku, mga migo ug miga, please give me your feedback.

Reasons behind this rewrite:
1) The Binukid lyric is too specific and it doesn't jibe (sorry for colloquialism)with the English lyric. Good translation needs to be idiomatic and must not be out of context. What we have now is purely a free, free, free translation.
2) One word in some online postings is so foreign to me. I have not heard such word since birth. Yes, my mother tongue is Binukid. It is my first language. Nevertheless, I am not too narrow-minded. I know pretty well that language is dynamic; thus, it changes over time. Maybe the word is archaic. It has not been used right after the song was put into music. I bald already...breathing more than half a century. Hence, Bukidnon, My Home, could have been written 20 years before I was born. Following Sapir-Whorf hypothesis, some linguist-anthropologists believe that 19 % of basic vocabulary changes every one thousand years. Maybe, such Binukid term was one of them, but it is too far-fetched.
3) Measures in the Binukid chorus is more than what we have in English. If we sing the Binukid counterpart without repeating it, the lyric is short of two measures.
4) In some postings, the orthography is problematic also.

So, here's my rewrite of the Binukid chorus. I tried my best to stay close to the English lyric. Also, I tried to relate it to the content of its first stanza.

"BUKIDNON, BANUWA KU"

Bisan pa hindu a
Lalag ku'g uli` a
Dini ta Bukidnon
Kanak ha banuwa
Buntod ha matangkaw,
Kalasan...makapal,
Patag ha malu-ag,
Na tungkay madagway.

Cho:

Bukidnon ha banuwa ku,
Imu man sa pusong ku.
Ga-id man ta madagway
Sa langit nu ko daloman.
Bukidnon ha banuwa ku,
Angati a; ag-uli` a."
Sa kalipay ha in-ila nu
Hadi ku agkalipatan.(Or "hadi iyan agkamatay.)

(English translation of chorus)

Bukidnon, my town,
My heart is yours.
Maybe because your sky
Is beautiful(even) at night.
Bukidnon, my town,
Wait for me; I am coming home.
The happiness you have given me
I (just) can't forget.(or It, indeed, will not die.)

(The current Binukid Chorus)

Bunturun, balalayan, basakan,
kapatagan, pastuhan, kapinyahan,
ba alan-alan ka-uyagan.
Langit din pig-aldawan,
piglambongan, pig-uranan,
ba alan-alan ka-uyagan.

(The English Chorus)

There my heart, yearns to be
In far away, Bukidnon land.
Under its blue starry sky,
Where love and joy never die.
(Repeat)

Please note that I have no problem keeping the original Binukid chorus, even if it's way off it's English counterpart. However, I wanted to sing it without humming a couple of measures before singing the last phrase. Any feedback is highly appreciated, so shoot it out. And please inform your family and friends in Bukidnon to check out this rewrite.

Thank you, guys.

NOTE:

Most of my readers have been sending me comments through facebook and email. You can do the same. Here's my email: edMindustan@gmail.com

Salamat tungkay.

BE HOPEFUL AND JOYOUS THIS VALENTINE'S DAY

2009-02-13T09:48:00.000-08:00

HAPPY VALENTINE
(Italian sonnet in Acrostic)

Here I am. My beloved! My valentine!
As everyone else, with red rose in hand,
Pushing myself in…hope you’ll understand
Praying that tonight I can say, ‘You’re mine’.
Year in, year out, my heart tried to define.
Vague, at first; but then… emotion so grand.
Anxious to give you this red rose as planned
Looming inside! It’s bursting as we dine.

Expecting ‘yes’ is what my heart desire.
No! Don’t be pressured! Please, just take your time.
The ‘yes’, I need, but surely I can wait.
In case, you’d say the ‘no’, I won’t retire.
Noble? My heart is! Patience I would climb.
Enter I await…your paradise gate.

(c) 2009 edmund melig industan

HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY EVERYONE!!!!

note: Want to read more of Edmund's poetry? PRAISING ALL SEASONS LONG can be purchased now on Comfort Publishing online store. It also can be pre-ordered now on Amazon.com, Barnes & Noble, and Target.

A DASANG TO MICHAEL PHELPS!

2009-02-07T09:36:00.000-08:00

HEY, MICHAEL PHELPS!
e.melig industan (02/06/2009)

There you were, pumping fist and yells.
At the tank, you’re a dolphin kicking
…Smoothly with your heels. The fastest!
And the world had watched you in awe.

You’re a hero, a role model to many.
They buy goods when your face is on it.
They worship you like a demigod of old.
And money pours in like rain. Splendid!

But hey!
Bear in mind, fame makes one’s head swells.
And the money makes one’s judgment fails.
Hey!
Think twice when you try something new.
Think twice before you flip with what’s new.

When it’s winter to many, it’s summer to you.
Many bundle up at home; you unwind out.
Money pampers you to wriggle at wee hours.
Think! Home is wholesome; outdoor’s full of snares.

Time immemorial, money isn’t real friend.
He lets you own everything, but screws you later.
He makes you famous; later infamous…
For wrong judgment on what to do follows.

Hey!
Look at O.J., Montgomery and Jones.
They were famous. The world caught in awe.
Hey!
Fame and money they have, but see how they end up.
They have both. Both left them scathed.

Oh, fortune! Fortune makes half of a man.
And man’s action will bond to make a whole man.
Oh, Machiavelli, when can these athletes see?
Please tell them, “Prince”, they must understand.

NOTE: 1) Just a Dasang, an experimental performance poetry, patterned after the Higa-onon tribe hortatory discourse to remind Michael and the other famous athletes to think twice before they do something stupid.
2) Also, my new book, PRAISING ALL SEASONS LONG: Haiku Verses, which is available for purchase on Comfort Publishing online store, can be pre-ordered now on Amazon.com, Barnes & Noble, and Target. A super gift book year-round.

PRAISE GOD! HE WOKE ME UP!

2009-01-31T10:42:00.000-08:00

I hibernated.
I didn’t sing in four years.
Thursday was my first.
e. industan

I was a member of a Bible College choir which toured in other Philippine provinces in the 70s and sang bass in a quartet. Besides the church choir, I also was a member of a Singing Christmas Tree, one December, in Port Arthur, Texas. Climbing up that 36-foot Christmas tree-shaped choir loft when all the lights were out; then suddenly hearing the “oh’s and ah” of the audience once the flashing colored tree lights were turned on, a second before we sang the first note of the Christmas cantata, was exhilarating.

However, I hibernated for four years like a ground squirrel at winter time. My love for singing was below normal heavily affected by the changing times. Praise God! I finally woke up.

This past Thursday, I opened my mouth again to “make a joyful noise unto the Lord”. I signed in to join the Sanctuary Choir at Lake Avenue Church, the biggest church in Pasadena, California.

And surprised! It’s my first to know that past the church’s underground parking garage is the music department office where the choir rehearsals are held. For four years of regular attendance at Lake Avenue Church’s eleven o’clock Sunday service, I wasn’t aware of this.

I started to get nervous while I took the elevator down to the church basement. Mind you, I even stuck my name tag upside down without realizing it. Thanks to Richard, whose eyes was not only sharp enough to see those dotted quarter notes but also keen to see (and congenially corrected) the tag. The Sanctuary Choir has more than a hundred members, so imagine me intimidated. Nevertheless, I started to relax after the opening prayer, which was followed by muscle and voice stretching and constant “phonology” reminder- for us to enunciate the plosive bilabial /p/ and /b/, the velar /k/ and whatnot's- as the rehearsal went on. As if I was back in my phonology graduate course, but I loved it.

I know; God has blessed me with a voice fit for a choir; however, there were some unpleasant moments in my life that I wittingly withdrew from using it. A huge blow happened seven months ago, but it also was a turning point for me to hone the inherent talent that God has given me. I thank God for He patiently waited for me to sing praises again.

NOTE: Besides singing, God also has gifted me a talent in creative writing. My second book, PRAISING ALL SEASONS LONG: Haiku Verses has just been released by Comfort Publishing. It is a gift book with 145 praise haiku verses, which can be ordered now on Comfort’s online store. Barnes and Noble bookstore also has announced that it will be carrying PRAISING… beginning March. Barnes and Noble is now accepting pre-orders. A discounted price of $8.99 is offered to bookstore’s subscribers. Surely, it is cheaper than a dozen roses and a better gift to people who needs affirmation that our God is still in control of everything, despite this time of trials and uncertainties.

Currently, I am working on the HEALING GARDEN OF VERSES, a collection of haiku and senryu verses, and pitching to a publisher my completed book project, BEDTIME-PASTIME: A Collection of Short Stories and Folktales.

PRES. OBAMA'S INAUGURATION IN VERSE (Full transcript)

2009-01-23T07:49:00.000-08:00

One-twenty-“O”-nine
Six-layer dresses were worn.
Souls braved the long hours.

There was a throng of people in Washington D.C. They came everywhere…from coast to coast. They braved the freezing cold before a rooster crows. Many covered even their brows. They were there to witness the President’s Inauguration.

I woke up at 5 am here in California. Eyes focused on the wide-screen. I waited while sipping a piping hot black coffee in my den. I was anxious to witness the reality of the clerihew I wrote during the campaign.

Presenting to you, Barack Obama
Blah…blah…endorsed by our beloved, Oprah
African, Caucasian, Indonesian… (?)… Oh, well, American
If he’d win, the face at the oval office would historically change, man!

Mabuhay! ( Long-live!), the first “colored” US president. Like anybody else, I am proud to address you as Mr. President. Your early exposure to different culture definitely makes you a caring, keen, well-rounded person.

I am not sure if others would consider me as smart or judicious man, because I could not control myself but to drop any word qualifier and just call the 44th US President an American.

What is U.S.A?
Surely, it’s a melting pot.
Not all men are white.

It showed in the crowd. Different colors were in D.C; their behavior was very good. What I didn’t see was the color of cherry blossoms, but I know, for sure, it will pop up on the banks of the Potomac River sometime in spring.

It was announced that the President attended a church service at St. John’s. No worries! I enjoyed watching people, anyways. They patiently waited in line for the much-needed security posts. Their excitement to be part of this inaugural history overpowered the freezing cold and sneezes.

Then…

Brrmm…went the sound.
The motorcade has begun.
Lincoln sat to wait.

Blue and red beaming police bikes with sirens led the convoy. I didn’t hear the sirens on TV, but I was pretty sure they were loud to warn spectators never to try. A new black limousine was among them. Inside were the outgoing and the incoming US Presidents.

Cheering crowd? Millions!
Buntings waved! They’re like the waves.
Sea of humans…’twas!

I saw smiling faces. I saw frowning kids. They perched on their dads’ shoulders. They were there to say in the future, “I witnessed a president’s history being made.”

I saw raise-the-roof made. I heard hollers and yelps. I heard highly-charged comments. Everyone was hoping for a positive result. Everyone needs a breather amidst the world’s tumult.

Which party are you?
“I am a Republican.
Obama’s my man.”

Strangers were rubbing elbows at the north mall. They exchanged pleasantries with no sign of boundaries. Republicans, Democrats, Libertarians, and even the Nacionalistas from far away countries; their faces seemed to say, “Pres. Obama, you are our man, the man of celebrities and of the masses.”

And V.I.Ps’ paraded down the red-carpeted steps; Justices and the new cabinets with their spouses. The past presidents and spouses were escorted to their seats: the 39th, the 41st, the 42nd, and the 43rd. Then, I saw the 44th standing stately, waiting patiently for his name to be announced.

The new President!
People exhilarated!
Tears and cheers around.

The 44th US President walked confidently. His eyes were beaming brightly. And I whispered, “Lord, thank you for President Barack Obama. Please don’t let his speech say, ‘I will…’ Guide him to say, ‘We will…’! Please don’t let his mind swell.”

Sen. Feinstein called on Rick Warren. The prayer was so purposely driven. ‘In God we trust’ engraved in the ‘old presidents’. Sadly, more and more Americans are spiritually out of sync. Thank goodness, I saw many with clasp hands and closed eyes, but ‘Hey Caucasian lady with black and white lined scarf sitting behind the president. What’s that jeering eyes (seemingly directed) at the president for?’ Oh, well, maybe she still mad at him for choosing Warren, a stout California Prop. 8 advocate, for the opening.

Small flags waving high.
“My Country, it is of Thee.”
Color Guards unite.

Aretha Franklin sang. Lincoln sat as he listened and watched: the Grand Canyon, the Golden Bridge, the Liberty statue. Many were teary eyed hoisting their red, white, and blue. The song united their hearts as one American gang.

Justice Stevens sworn-in Vice President Biden without a flaw. Yo-Yo Ma and company serenaded with gusto.

Oh my, what happened?
It was the moment of flub.
Swearing-in faltered.

President Obama stood to be sworn-in. The beautiful Michelle was beside him holding a 5-by-8 (?) unopened red box that contained the Bible that the 16th US President had sworn-in to one hundred forty-eight years ago. But alas! The Chief Justice of the Supreme Court faltered. The new President and other V.I.P.s’ smiled. The swearing in became (as I saw it) so informal and seemingly an ordinary event. Nonetheless, the crowd was full of excitement: crying, laughing, hollering, and hoisting posters with the president’s face.

Finally, the 44th US President looked proudly as far as his eye can see; the sea of humanity standing as quiet as can be as he stood behind that bullet-proof glass-covered podium for an anxiously awaited speech.

Fellow citizens…
Let us not be faint-hearted…
Let us take the risk.

We dust ourselves off…
We’ll rebuild America…
All these we can do.

Even though there was a multitude listening in D.C., a drop of pin, I seemingly heard. Like me, the crowd didn’t care if the speech would be longer than the 2-hour speech of the 9th or be shorter than the 1-minute, 35 words of the 1st US President. Everyone’s ready to imbibe what the new President would say. Lo and behold! The speech was delivered in less than 20 minutes. Only three “Is” were heard, one of this was when he talked about his Kenyan father. Most were the inclusive “we”, “us”, and “our”.

The speech was short, but sweet. It was full of affirmation and challenges. With a charismatic, energetic, action-driven, change advocate at the helm; surely, the United States of America can successfully row itself across turbulence and huge whirlpools. We will overcome barriers and, once again, live with peaceful souls.

Do not be alarmed.
The President is human.
Give him enough time.

As people went back to their cities, those in Kogelo, Besuki, and Obama went to their respective homes, and I turned my TV off to begin work, we have to remind ourselves that our 44th US President is not a God, who has answers to all the challenges our world is facing nowadays. So, let us give him space, a little more than the normal100 days. Let us bring him to the throne of grace. He needs supreme guidance far beyond all human senses.

Now…

“Race”, we go for change.
Onward we move together.
We’ve new President.

His Excellency, Barack Hussein Obama, American, full of zest and youthfulness, the 44th and the first “Colored” US President, loving husband to Michelle and a caring father to Malia (10) and Sasha (7), a God-fearing family man, began his first day at the Oval Office with another historical re-swearing, re-administered by Chief Justice John Roberts, Jr.

Wait! Was it in one of the offices at the basement of the White House? Anyways, this time, it was flawless.

Then, the new era in the U.S. of A has begun.

Truly, Ms. Elizabeth Alexander, this is my “Praise Song for the Day”.

PRES. OBAMA'S INAUGURATION IN VERSE (2nd & Last Installment)

2009-01-22T17:48:00.000-08:00

Which party are you?
“I am a Republican.
Obama’s my man.”

Strangers were rubbing elbows at the north mall. They exchanged pleasantries with no sign of boundaries. Republicans, Democrats, Libertarians, and even the Nacionalistas from far away countries; their faces seemed to say, “Pres. Obama, you are our man, the man of celebrities and of the masses.”

And V.I.Ps’ paraded down the red-carpeted steps; Justices and the new cabinets with their spouses. The past presidents and spouses were escorted to their seats: the 39th, the 41st, the 42nd, and the 43rd. Then, I saw the 44th standing stately, waiting patiently for his name to be announced.

The new President!
People exhilarated!
Tears and cheers around.

The 44th US President walked confidently. His eyes were beaming brightly. And I whispered, “Lord, thank you for President Barack Obama. Please don’t let his speech say, ‘I will…’ Guide him to say, ‘We will…’! Please don’t let his mind swell.”

Sen. Feinstein called on Rick Warren. The prayer was so purposely driven. ‘In God we trust’ engraved in the ‘old presidents’. Sadly, more and more Americans are spiritually out of sync. Thank goodness, I saw many with clasp hands and closed eyes, but ‘Hey Caucasian lady with black and white lined scarf sitting behind the president. What’s that jeering eyes (seemingly directed) at the president for?’ Oh, well, maybe she still mad at him for choosing Warren, a stout California Prop. 8 advocate, for the opening.

Small flags waving high.
“My Country, it is of Thee.”
Color Guards unite.

Aretha Franklin sang. Lincoln sat as he listened and watched: the Grand Canyon, the Golden Bridge, the Liberty statue. Many were teary eyed hoisting their red, white, and blue. The song united their hearts as one American gang.

Justice Stevens sworn-in Vice President Biden without a flaw. Yo-Yo Ma and company serenaded with their instruments.

Oh my, what happened?
It was the moment of flub.
Swearing-in faltered.

President Obama stood to be sworn-in. The beautiful Michelle was beside him holding a 5-by-8 (?) unopened red box that contained the Bible that the 16th US President had sworn-in to one hundred forty-eight years ago. But alas! The Chief Justice of the Supreme Court faltered. The new President and other V.I.P.s’ smiled. The swearing in became (as I saw it) so informal and seemingly an ordinary event. Nonetheless, the crowd was full of excitement: crying, laughing, hollering, and hoisting posters with the president’s picture.

Finally, the 44th US President looked proudly as far as his eye can see; the sea of humanity standing as quiet as can be as he stood behind that bullet-proof glass-covered podium for an anxiously awaited speech.

Fellow citizens…
Let us not be faint-hearted…
Let us take the risk.

We dust ourselves off…
We’ll rebuild America…
All these we can do.

Even though there was a multitude listening in D.C., a drop of pin, I seemingly heard. Like me, the crowd didn’t care if the speech would be longer than the 2-hour speech of the 9th or be shorter than the 1-minute, 35 words of the 1st US President. Everyone’s ready to imbibe what the new President would say. Lo and behold! The speech was delivered in less than 20 minutes. Only three “Is” were heard, one of this was when he talked about his Kenyan father. Most were the inclusive “we”, “us”, and “our”.

The speech was short, but sweet. It was full of affirmation and challenges. With a charismatic, energetic, action-driven, change advocate at the helm; surely, the United States of America can successfully row itself across turbulence and huge whirlpools. We will overcome barriers and, once again, live with peaceful souls.

Do not be alarmed.
The President is human.
Give him enough time.

As people went back to their cities, those in Kogelo, Besuki, and Obama went to their respective homes, and I turned my TV off to begin work, we have to remind ourselves that our 44th US President is not a God, who has answers to all the challenges our world is facing nowadays. So, let us give him space, a little more than the normal100 days. Let us bring him to the throne of grace. He needs supreme guidance far beyond all human senses.

Now…

“Race”, we go for change.
Onward we move together.
We’ve new President.

And President Barack Hussein Obama, American, the 44th US and the first “Colored” US President, and God-fearing family man, began his first day at the Oval Office with another historical re-swearing, re-administered by Chief Justice John Roberts, Jr.

Wait! Was it in one of the offices at the basement of the White House? Anyways, this time, it was flawless.

And the new era in the U.S. of A has begun.

By: Edmund Melig Industan
(c) 2009

PRES. OBAMA'S INAUGURATION IN VERSE

2009-01-21T09:32:00.000-08:00

One-twenty-“O”-nine
Six-layer dresses were worn.
Souls braved the long hours.

There were throng of people in Washington D.C. They came everywhere…from coast to coast. They braved the freezing cold before a rooster crows. Many covered even their brows. They were there to witness the President's Inauguration.

I woke up at 5 am here in California. Eyes focused on the wide-screen. I waited while sipping a piping hot black coffee in my den. I was anxious to witness the reality of the clerihew I wrote during the campaign.

Presenting to you, Barack Obama
Blah…blah…endorsed by our beloved, Oprah
African, Caucasian, Indonesian… (?)… Oh, well, American
If he’d win, the face at the oval office would historically change, man!

Mabuhay! ( Long-live!), the first colored US president. Like anybody else, I am proud to address you as Mr. President. His early exposure to different culture definitely makes him a caring, keen, well-rounded man. I am not sure if others would consider me as smart or judicious man, because I could not control myself but to drop any word qualifier and just call the 44th US President an American.

What is U.S.A?
Surely, it’s a melting pot.
Not all men are white.

It showed in the crowd. Different colors were in D.C; they’re behavior were very good. What I didn’t see was the color of cherry blossoms, but I know, for sure, it will pop up on the banks of the Potomac River sometime in spring.

It was announced that the President attended a church service at St. John’s. No worries! I enjoyed watching people, anyways. They patiently waited in line for the much-needed security posts. Their excitement to be part of this inaugural history overpowered the freezing cold and sneezes.

Then…

Brrmm…went the sound.
The motorcade has begun.
Lincoln sat to wait.

Blue and red beaming police bikes with sirens led the convoy. I didn’t hear the sirens on TV, but I was pretty sure they were loud to warn spectators never to try. A new black limousine was among them. Inside were the outgoing and the incoming US Presidents.

Cheering crowd? Millions!
Buntings waved! They’re like the waves.
Sea of humans…’twas!

I saw smiling faces. I saw frowning kids. They perched on their dads’ shoulder. They were there to say in the future, “I witnessed a president’s history in the making.”

I saw raise-the-roof being made. I heard hollers and yelps. I heard highly-charged comments. Everyone was hoping for a positive result. Everyone needs a breather amidst the world's tumult.

(c) Edmund Melig Industan, 2009

NOTE#1: 2nd installment to be posted tomorrow.

NOTE#2: A gift book, PRAISING ALL SEASONS LONG: Haiku Verses, can be purchased now on Comfort Publishing's online store. Price is just $9.99, cheaper than a dozen roses and a very good gift to those needing comfort, encouragement, and affirmation that, despite uncertainties and challenges in life, God is still in control of everything.

A Miracle on Hudson River

2009-01-16T10:53:00.000-08:00

Flocks of geese flying
Frigid Hudson was waiting
Praise God, the plane lives.
e. industan

Yesterday, Jan. 15th, it was in the upper 70s in southern California but in the low 20s in New York. I sat comfortably on our couch hoping to watch my favorite after lunch tv program, The People’s Court. And I never regretted when “People’s” didn’t show up. My eyes were glued to Hudson River, the river that separates Jersey City and New York City. An airbus of US Airways, with 150 passengers and 5 airline crew landed safely in the river few minutes after it left La Guardia Airport, and the blue and red beaming vessels of the NYPD and Coast Guards, and a flotilla of water commuter ferries and water taxis were busy rescuing the passengers, many of them standing on the plane's wings. Everyone was reported safe; most were taken to hospitals for hypothermia and bruises. Thank God for the pilot, who stayed his cool as he made the emergency water landing; thank God, everyone was reported alive.

It was reported that the mishap might be caused by a large flock of Canadian geese sucked in by both engine. The big birds were too much for the engines to withstand.

The hybrid haiku was written to remember one of the coldest days in New York, the risk of flying when big birds are competing for air space, the smartness of the pilot and the crew, the immediate response of the water vessels, and, most importantly,God's miracle on Hudson.

Note: Want to read more praise haiku? PRAISING ALL SEASONS LONG: Haiku Verses has just been released by Comfort Publishing and can be purchased online. It’s is a collection of 145- praise haiku and is very good gift for those in need of affirmation that God is still in control of everything, despite uncertainties and challenges in life. Its $9.99 price is cheaper than a doz. roses and a better investment for eternity.

A HOPE IN GOD

2009-01-10T12:00:00.000-08:00

Where can I turn to?
There’s rainbow after the rain.
Hope and promise giv’n.

With uncertainties in life, people ask on what to do and where to turn to to get by. Burglary, even bank holdups, has been on the rise. Recently, a TV news showed a clip of two guys demanding money from a carwash. Just this week, a Southern Californian TV reported that the business of fortune tellers is booming since the economic crunch. Last Sunday, our church announced a Job Search Meeting for members who have been downsized by their employers.

I never will forget a story I heard during my childhood. A child was crying continuously for he was hungry. Unfortunately, the family has nothing to give him. Like everybody else, their small farm was hit by a swarm of locust. There was very little left to eat. The father tried to calm the child down, but to no avail. Then, they heard a sound, "Wak! Wak! Wak!". (Wakwak is known to be a witch, who turns into a bird at nighttime to prey on human beings.)

The father said, "Keep quiet! There's a "wakwak" flying.

The child responded, "Catch it! I am going to eat it!"

People have the tendency to do anything to survive.

There were times I have thought of unpleasant things when I hit bottom. But I thank God that he always have been patient to show me the right way. Going back to God's Word, allowed me to remember how God used the rainbow to show his promise for a worldwide deluge not to happen again. He allowed me to see a ray of hope in Him. And I have a great faith that no matter what, God would never fail me.

I pray that you, too, will find hope in God. He is just a prayer away.

God bless you, my friend.

(NOTE: PRAISING ALL SEASONS LONG, my newly published gift book which can be purchased through www.comfortpublishing.com, attests how God has been so good to me in time of need. May the book be a source of comfort and encouragement to others, especially this time of uncertainties.)

A NEW YEAR'S WISH

2009-01-03T09:50:00.000-08:00

Hi guys,

Hope everyone is ready to go back to work. Here is a Ghazal verse for you. I have my name included in the last couplet, not only because traditional ghazal verse requires it, but also to remind me that I have to look forward for a better tomorrow and let bygones be bygones.

So, here it is. May you have a prosperous New Year.

A NEW YEAR FOR A NEW YOU

Winter’s here welcoming a new you.
Hoping that past year has not glued you.

Look forward for the new day rising…
Leaving behind… actions that screwed you.

Past, like a ghost, will keep on haunting.
Be careful! Do not let him chew you!

Strong will to nurse, a new babe to rise.
Act swiftly, don’t let Past subdue you.

Don’t get discourage; keep looking up.
Reaching the zenith is up to you.

Remember, Edmund, show the true you.
Shine forth! Let the New Year glow through you.

(c) edmund melig industan, 2008

NOTE: This ghazal is included in my upcoming book, THE EXPERIMENTAL DASANG (Hey Poems) and 45 OTHER POETRY FORMS.

Also, I really would appreciate it if you could get a copy of my newly published gift book, PRAISING ALL SEASONS LONG: Haiku Verses at http://www.comfortpublishing.com

MY BLESSED AND JOYOUS HOLIDAY

2008-12-26T11:23:00.000-08:00

I am enjoying my Christmas holiday. And I am blessed, not only for having a healthy family and another published book, PRAISING ALL SEASONS LONG: Haiku Verses, but also for having online friends who did not mind spending precious money and time to personally greet me a happy holiday season.

Worth mentioning here are my online friends in England, UKFox and company. They took time to call me at 7:30 on a chilly Christmas morning for personal holiday greetings and inspiring message about my first published book, KOILAWAN: Letters and Poems of a Jungle Dad-Mom. Being a late-bloomer in creative writing, to hear people telling me that they consider KOILAWAN as their #1 Book of the Year, to the extent that 'I am their Idol', is very humbling and encouraging.

I just hope that you all will find "PRAISING ALL SEASONS LONG" a very good inspirational and comforting gift book of verses, especially this time of economic crunch. Price is only $9.99 +s/h and currently available on Comfort Publishing online store. In a few weeks, "Praising..." can be ordered in other online book outlets, and, hopefully, in a bookstore near you.

As a gift to all my online friends, here's the short story that I was working on when I got the call from England. This story is part of my book project, BEDTIME-PASTIME:Collection of Short Stories and Bukidnon Folktales.

The Shotgun Romance of
Agah and the Stranger
Edmund Melig Industan

He heard the roosters crowed twice already and, without looking his alarm clock on the corner table, he knew it was two in the morning. Still, his eyes were wide-opened staring at the ceiling.

He remembered his first night at the log pond a month ago. He was awakened at midnight, because the domesticated roosters in most homes, some of them cared for cockfights every other Sundays, and those in the wilds were crowing like a three-part round sing-song: one group sings first, the other repeats right after the first group was at their very last note. Then, those in the wild create the echo from afar. The crowing takes around a couple of minutes. As a city guy, born and raised in a gated community in Metro Manila, his night was never bothered of crowing roosters, except by vehicle honks and engines from spoiled kids of wealthy families, who sometimes have fun racing in the street. It took him three weeks before the crowing became a melodic symphony that finally can lull him to sleep after a long day under the tropical heat as he checked logs brought in by the trucks from the forest.

That night, though, he was one of those logs rolling to the river. He often times pulled himself up, sometimes pushed himself down, many times covered his ears with his pillows. The crane were his arms; the skids…his hands. The lady he saw at the river during the day: an oblong-shaped face, dewy-eyes with long curly lashes, and a long nose with a thin nostril was disturbing him. He definitely saw in her some spilled over blood from the Spanish Conquistadores. Simultaneously, he had been bothered with the words of Ligut.

“Be tactful when you interact with the villagers, Pare. Your culture is different from theirs,” Ligut, the host, advised his friend, Mario, during his first night at the log pond.

“They are Filipinos like me, aren’t they?” Mario asked.

“Certainly, they are; however, we are thousands and thousand miles away from Manila, separated by the sea and dense forest,” Ligut answered.

“Does it mean I could not speak to them in Tagalog?” Mario continued.

“You could, but the intelligibility, from the scale of 10, would be from 0 to 1. You might as well talk to them in your household tongue. Anyways, besides me, there is this 20-year old beautiful lady. She lives three villages up. She used to be one of those “tribal scholars” who were taken to Manila, housed in a mansion by their multi-millionaire benefactor, and was sent to an exclusive girl’s school as a second grader at the age of fourteen.”

“I remember you telling me that when we were in college. You told me they were bussed to and from the school with an entourage of security officers. Instead of school bags and lunch boxes, they have shoulder purses with make-up kits. And on the first day of school, their 8-year old classmates stood up right away when they entered their respective rooms and greeted them ‘good morning, ma’am’,” Mario said laughing.

“Yeah…funny; but one thing we did not know until this girl was allowed to come home for a one-week summer vacation. While at the mansion, they were treated like girls in a harem. They have classes in social graces and etiquette. Actors and singers were invited to entertain them every weekend. But the sad thing, Pare, each of them had to keep a strict schedule when to see their millionaire patron in his bedroom,” Ligut said shaking his head.

“And I know this man. His wife left him and she now lives in Madrid. I heard my dad mentioning that to my mom. That was before my dad took you to our house as our ‘tribal scholar’.”

“But I was very lucky, Pare. Your family really treated me as a scholar, not a slave or whatever. And I was very lucky to come from the Bukidnon tribe that has valued the importance of education since I can remember. My mom was even sent by an American missionary to Manila for her ETC, elementary teaching certificate, few years after World War II. Anyways, when this girl came home, she was completely changed…very sophisticated…she felt out of place...other village girls disliked her, and men shunned her for that prima-donna attitude, but one slip of her tongue made her parents angry and ended her Manila days,” Ligut shook his head and a chuckle.

“And what’s that…?” The eyes of Mario stared intently at Ligut anxious to hear it.

“As she was proudly “singing” about her life in Manila, she mentioned that, one night, a fellow scholar came out from the benefactor’s bedroom so tired, famished, and disheveled, and she asked others to get her a glass of water to drink and gargle.”

“And…,” Mario raised both of his hands, more intently with a slight smile on her face, his heart teetering with excitement, and mouth salivating to know what happened.

“Well, no one really knew what happened to that “scholar”.

“Wow, Pare, bitin! You cut me off. I am dying here to know the details,” Mario stood up stumping with a grin of frustration. He turned his back away from Ligut and quickly brushed his hair with his bare hand.

“Just run your imagination wild, Pare, just like the villagers did when they heard it. But let’s go back to the language issue. Look, the lingua franca here in Mindanao is Bisaya. Tagalog or Pilipino is taught in school, but how many elementary schools did you passed by this morning, from the last town to this village?”

“Two!” Mario abruptly answered , still not looking at Ligut.

“Yes, and those are the barrios of the lowlanders. Most of the tribes in the Philippines are denied of education and other government programs. Probably, because of the remoteness of the villages, but I believe it is more on culture and language barriers. Teachers fear of not being understood, so nobody dares to teach the villagers. And for this tribe; the story of this pretty “tribal scholar” has derailed their trust with government programs, including education. So, be careful out there,” Ligut advised his friend.

Mario, a 22-year old guy, was the new assistant operation manager of a logging company operating in the jungle of central Mindanao. It’s his first assignment of hard work. Ligut left Mario’s house after he graduated and was already working full-time as a senior clerk of the logging company. Nevertheless, they hang out together, almost regularly, on weekends. Ligut knew his cockiness and weakness on women.

“But you are right, Pare, I saw beautiful girls passing by the office this morning.”

“Wow, Pare, hinayhinay lang! (Just take it slow.) You don’t want to have a shotgun marriage or be killed for not marrying one, do you?”

“Why so?” Mario asked.

“See, unmarried women here are well-protected. They are not allowed to socialize with men. If they have male guest in the house, the girls would have to stay in a room where the male guest could not see or touch them,” Ligut said.

“What if a guy accidentally touches a girl?”

“That guy has devirginized that girl; hence, he has to marry her,” Ligut answered.

Mario realized that he had to contain his libido.

“However, Pare, like any other society, there are single women here, who go against the norm. If they like somebody, they would do something to get him. I cannot reiterate this enough…be very careful out there, Pare.”

Mario cannot take his mind off that girl. He still can see that long neck on that 6-foot slender body. “He could qualify in a “Miss Universe” pageant. And being a virgin is a triple plus,” Mario sighed and closed his eyes. He tried to sleep, but cannot. He remembered that when the young woman got up, she put the washed clothes in an enameled basin, balanced it on her head, and started to catwalk like a fashion model. He was flabbergasted. He cannot believe that this young village woman can walk with finesse. He had stereotyped tribal women as uneducated and unrefined, who walk either like ducklings or with petulant swaying of their behind. Not anymore. This woman has proven him wrong. As she was walking, she dropped a handkerchief. Mario got scared, so he pretended not to see it.

The following day, Mario saw the woman again walked by the office. He immediately called Ligut to ask for her name.

“Her name is Agah, the daughter of a chieftain, three villages up. She is here visiting her brothers.”

“She is so beautiful. I wanna bef…,” Mario did not finish his sentence, because he saw Agah dropped her handkerchief. He wanted to pick it up and hand it to Agah, but Ligut patted his shoulder; then shook his head.

“Ignore it, Pare,” Ligut advised him.

However, to ignore the sweetest and most appealing girl at this isolated log pond was to ignore her favorite crispy fried chicken drumstick. So, he walked right to that handkerchief, picked it up, and followed Agah to give her the hankie. As if betwitched, he handed the handkerchief to Agah staring at the pair of dimples on her check. He was enamored and nervously touched the fingers of Agah. Suddenly, the Agah’s concave lips turned convex. She covered her face with the handkerchief and run back to her brother’s hut. Mario wanted to follow her, but Ligut hollered to come back to their office, instead.

“Well, Mr. Casanova,” Ligut said as he shook his head, “now you are trapped. It’s either you runaway right now or accept the brunt of her brothers.”

Mario opened his mouth, about to say something.

“Uh-oh,” Ligut wagged his index finger at Mario, who was quiet for a few seconds. The whistling interference in the side-band radio was tearing his emotion apart. “Don’t say anything. Accidental or intentional, you have to face the music, otherwise, you will put the company’s operation here in jeopardy,” Ligut said in his harsh bossy voice, which Mario had’nt heard from him before.

Mario was stunned and did not say anything. He sat in his rattan chair, tucked his arms under his head, and shook his head once. He knew that despite Ligut’s willingness to stick his head out to protect him as he did in Manila, while he got caught by his girlfriend making out with another woman, he cannot do it now. He has the entire logging operation in the region to protect.

“Log Pond Mindanao, this is Manila. Log Pond Mindanao…Over!” the single sideband company’s radio interrupted the silence. Ligut looked at Mario. Just as he was about to pick up the microphone, they heard a commotion outside their office.

“Agah’s two brothers are coming with a spear and a rifle,” one logging worker hollered.

“Stand-by Manila. Log Pond-Mindanao has a serious problem to attend to. …Will call in thirty minutes. Over and out,” Ligut hanged up, went outside the office to meet the brothers.

“Where is that maniakis? Bring him out!” the older brother shouted as he clucked the rifle.

“Calm down, Gali`, let us settle this problem peacefully,” Ligut, the pacifier, responded raising both arms forty-five degrees to stop the two brothers.

“That maniakis must marry our sister, or else…,” he pulled the trigger and off went a loud rifle crack.

“Gali`, there’s nothing to worry. He knows the consequence of his action. Blood does not have to flow. Expect us at eight tonight,” Ligut assured the two brothers.

“I’ll take you on that, Sir Ligut. Better be at my house at eight and Mario on a leash that this log pond won’t turn into a mess,” the older brother yelled as he walked away from Ligut’s office.

Ligut peeped in to check on Mario before he went inside the radio room, “Manila, this is Log Pond-Mindanao; over.”

“Log Pond-Mindanao from Manila, update us what’s going on; over,” a lady’s voice came loud and clear.

Ligut knew who was talking. He heard the voice before, even in early mornings. The voice was from the company’s vice president.

“Roger Manila. It’s one of those cultural nuances, ma’am; over.”

“…Copy on that, Log Pond-Mindanao. Hope it’s not a matter over life and death… elaborate; over.”

“Negative…Manila. Our new assistant operation manager here had blundered by picking up a lady’s handkerchief; over,” Ligut tried to make the report as specific as possible.

“Negative copy, Log Pond-Mindanao…seems not a serious matter…elaborate; over.”

“Roger Manila. Mario helped a lady with her handkerchief. He handed it to her and accidentally or nervously touched the lady’s fingers; over.”

“How could that be a serious problem, Log Pond-Mindanao? Over,” a louder lady’s voice showed a sign of a slight annoyance.

“Touching a lady’s body part by a man is big and serious matter here, Manila. Have to settle this ASAP; otherwise, some of our workers would get killed. Over,” Ligut explained.

“Stand by, Log Pond-Mindanao; over and out!” Then, the main office in Manila was in complete silence. The crackling of the radio took control. Instead of sitting idly with the microphone on hand, Ligut went to the other room to talk to Mario, whom, while talking to Manila, he saw, through the glass partition, sometimes staring blankly at the ceiling and sometimes with a trace of smile.

“So, Mr. Casanova, what’s in your mind? I saw your ambivalent spirit through that glass. C’mon, enlighten me,” Ligut said.

“I’m on a roller coaster ride, Pare.”

“And…?” Ligut looked at Mario with a raised eyebrow and wrinkled forehead.

“I still cannot make up my mind, Pare; …still cannot see myself settling down with this woman…but I also feel something very good right here,” Mario hit his left chest with a fist.

“Ah…a sign of a 22-year old Casanova hit by cupid’s arrow. The arrow just missed the core. Here, allow me to push the arrow a little bit to quell the kinks,” Ligut was about to hurl his fist onto Mario's chest when they vice president's voice.

“Manila to Log Pond-Mindanao, can you copy? …Over.”

Ligut went back to the radio room, pressed the red button on the side of the microphone and replied, “Roger, Manila. Go ahead; over.”

“Is your assistant manager there? …Over,” the lady’s voice asked.

“Roger!” Ligut answered as he signaled Mario to come to the radio room.

“Put him on, please; over.”

“Roger, ma’am,” Ligut handed the microphone to Mario.

“M-m-ma-ma-manila…over,” Mario quivered.

“ Hijo mio... que paso? …Over,” the lady’s voice asked gently.

“Lo siento mucho, Mama`, I got very nervous as I handed her the handkerchief; over,” Mario replied.

“Could we not settle this with grease money? Our public relation officer said that we could, over,” the mother asked.

“I don’t think so, Mama. Ligut told me that we could appease the family’s anger with money if I just shamed them, but my action was like raping this beautiful girl. …Over.”

“Que barbaridad…que desgracia! But did you say, “She’s beautiful?” the mom said.

“Si, mama… muy hermosa, mama…beautiful than the current Miss Philippines-Universe; over,” Mario answered with a spark in his eyes.

“Your voice is insinuating that you like her…Over?”

“Would you like to have a daughter-in-law from the jungle, Mama? …Over!”

“Hijo, it is so risky to run away from it, according to our public relations officer. We cannot give up our logging operation there, either. A daughter-in-law who is una Tarzana? Well, as long as you love her…No problem with that, hijo; over.”

“Copy you loud and clear, Mama. But Mama, she does not act like Tarzan; okay? A village wedding will take place tonight; over.”

“Por QUE, hijo…hijo mio… Por QU’E?” Mom’s voice cracked.

“Si, Mama`, I have been given until eight tonight to marry her; …Over.”

Mario heard her mom’s sob, competing with the squeaks of the radio. He knew that his mom was upset. He knew that she has started worrying how to relate with Agah when Mario takes her to Manila, how her friends would take the news, and how to deal with her pride and prejudice. Like him, the mom seemed awakened from a horrible dream and there’s no way out. It was her plan to send him to Mindanao to learn the rope of their family business.

“Hush, Mama; it’s not your fault. I am love-struck. It’s love at first sight. You’d be surprised when you meet Agah. …Over.”

“Okay, then, tell the family tonight, that a formal wedding will take place in a few weeks. I will be sending a priest and a wedding planner down there this weekend. I am waiting for your dad to come home from his business trip in China. Adios, hijo. …te amo, hijo mio. Por favor, hijo mio…take care; over and out.”

“Love you, Mama. Bye… over.”

Mario hanged up and asked Ligut to look for a pig to butcher for his meeting with Agah’s brother later in the day.

“Everything is taken cared of, Pare. And don’t worry with that pig. If your parents are coming for your formal wedding later this month, then, a chicken and some bottle of San Miguel beer would be sufficient for now,” Ligut said.

Sunset came. The stumping pestles on mortars replaced the sounds of incoming and outgoing logging trucks. There were lots of people already sitting outside the yard of Agah’s house. The village chieftain was seen walking fully dressed with his beaded headgear. One truck came studded with people from Agah’s village. Every lowlander at the log pond knows that a simple tribal wedding is to take place: An augury by prying the liver of a black-feathered chicken, and an exchange of fistful of rice with some white meat between the bride and the groom following a nuptial agreement between Agah’s relative and Ligut and Mario in the presence of the village chief. Everybody would soon know that Mario is an heir of the logging company, that Agah would soon be living again in Manila, and an en grande wedding would soon takes place on a sandy bank of Agusan river, where the shotgun romance had started.

HAPPY HOLIDAYS, everyone.

PRAISING ALL SEASONS LONG: HAIKU VERSES

2008-12-20T09:28:00.000-08:00

"SEASON'S A HAIKU.
IT'S SWEET, BUT SHORT AND CONTAINED.
GLEAN AND ENJOY IT."
e.industan

There are many events in a season. Often times they are sweet; sometimes bitter. The good ones, like the holidays, we wanted them extended. The bad ones, like winter storm and devastating wild fire, we wanted them shortened. And if we couldn't, we express our discontent.

Truly, life is a season and season is a haiku. It is short. Events are generally, with some exception of course, contained. We need toenjoy every bit of it and hope that when the next cycle comes, it would b e much better than the past.

Problem is...patience in us is too short. Before we know it, we already are yawning...then, whining...then (to some extreme) wining. We forget the best of the season. Many forget God. We try to overcome our worries without God,just to realize later that without God,we really can't do much better; hence not completely satisfied, because we are nothing, just an aging economic man.

Why am I saying this? Because I have experienced it. And the only thing that made me overcome and regained my strength was to look at what's going on in every season and see the goodness of God in them and in me.

The book, PRAISING ALL SEASONS LONG: Haiku Verses, says it. Praising has just been off the press yesterday and can now be purchased through COMFORT PUBLISHING website store. It is a good gift book this holiday season and throughout the year. Price is just $ 9.99 +s/h. I would appreciate it if you could get your copy. Thanks.

I hope and pray that may God uses the book, PRAISING ALL SEASONS LONG: Haiku Verses to bless you and others.

Merry Christmas.

MERRY CHRISTMAS

2008-12-12T09:11:00.000-08:00

For you, my friend, this Christmas time.

MERRY CHRISTMAS
(A Shakespearean sonnet in Acrostic)

Melodious carols playing in the air.
Exciting lights that make the world so bright
Rekindling hope for those in need of care
Rejoice! It’s Christmas! Show your heart’s delight.

Yes, yuletide’s here, let’s raise our voices high.
Christ’s birth proclaimed, ye, people of goodwill.
Hear ye, oh people, sadness you’d get by.
Rejoice! It’s Christmas! New hope to unveil!

In times like this some need a little aid.
Show them some love, portray the love of God.
The joy you’d feel so dear you won’t dare trade.
Must do this deed in truth, not just façade!

Ah, Christmas is the time to share and cheer
So share it now and all throughout the year.

(c) Edmund Melig Industan, 2008

Have a blessed one.

NOTE: 1) This sonnet in acrostic is included in my upcoming book, THE EXPERIMENTAL DASANG (Hey Poem) and 45 OTHER POETRY FORMS.

2) This Christmas, I am wishing that you, my friend, will get a copy of my gift book, PRAISING ALL SEASONS LONG: Haiku Verses, which will be in the market in early January. I just finished proofreading the final galley. "Praising..." is published by Comfort Publishing. Please take a look at its front cover. Thanks to you, my friend.

Praising All copy.jpg - Gmail

On Navy Football Game

2008-11-15T12:36:00.000-08:00

College football game is on fire. So even if the state of California has been disturbed by devastating wild fire from Santa Barbara county to Orange county, I cannot help but watched the game between Notre Dame Irish and Navy Midshipmen.

Well, I am a Bruin, having completed a professional program at UCLA; however, I begun to admire the Navy Midshipmen since I have watched its game against the Army last season. The Navy lost today, however they came out with a very good game and left the stadium humbly proud, accepting defeat.

Here's a Hey Poem (Dasang) that I wrote last year on the game between the Navy and the Army.

Hope you would like it.

CELEBRATE WITH FLAIR!
Edmund M. Industan

I tell you this, the way I felt…
Watching the Navy-Army game,
It’s twelve-one-seven football game.
My eyes were moist with joy of tears.

The navy won the game that day.
They cheered so extraordinarily.
Though I was no fan of either one,
I owed them hats off and respect.

The cheering fans and stalwart arms;
The weary seats and bowed heads,
So disciplined…accepted their fate,
Arms in bosom as Navies sang their hymn.

Hey!
Wish society be this way today,
Playing the game living life fairly!
Hey!
Make fantasy a reality,
But face the music with humility!

Sports have so many followers.
It squeezes juice from loans and moms.
It’s almost a religion to some,
A must to attend; acts as heroin.

It makes men act like wild animals.
Some howl as apes with letterheads;
Others come shirtless even in a cold night
Showing support for their muscled men.

For others, they’re like flowers needing rain…
Wilting, dragging their weakened limbs.
They’d stop by a watering hole before going home;
They’d gulp to drown their beat up souls.

Hey!
It’s just a game! Show your sportsmanship!
If you’d go wild, don’t spew fire with your lips.

Hey!
If your team wins, celebrate with flair.
Don’t pour the salt on a wounded soul!

Remember, the ball isn’t flat! It rolls!
It doesn’t stay on your side forevermore.
Try to wear the shoes of those who lost and
Celebrate! Like the navy cadets, so well-disciplined, that…
Peace and joy will reign for good.

NOTE: This Hey Poem is included in my book, THE EXPERIMENTAL DASANG (Hey Poem) and 45 OTHER POETRY FORMS.

Veterans Day & The Fil-Am War Veterans

2008-11-11T12:14:00.000-08:00

November 11 is the Veterans Day to honor over 25 million military veterans in the U.S. In other countries, Nov. 11 is called Armistice Day or Remembrance Day in observance of the signing of the Armistice Treaty hurriedly signed between the Allies (Russian Empire, British Empire, France, Italy, U.S.) and Germany to end World War I. Allied Commander-in-Chief Marshall Ferdinand Foch and Germany representative Matthias Erzberger were principal signatories.

It was the 28th US President Woodrow Wilson who first proclaimed an Armistice Day dedicated to the cause of world peace. It was change to "All" Veterans Day in 1954, when Al King, a shoe vendor of Emporia, Kansas, campaigned to include all other military veterans. The 34th US President Dwight David Eisenhower who signed the name change to Veterans Day into law on May 26, 1954.

As US celebrate "the eleventh of the eleventh of the eleventh", I cannot help but remember my visit to 6 Filipino WW II veteran couples, who migrated to southern California after the 42nd President William Jefferson Blythe Clinton signed a law granting US citizenship to Filipino war veterans. (Of the 200,000 Filipinos, who responded to the 1941 call of the 32nd US President, Franklin Delano Roosevelt, to help the Americans preserve peace and democracy in the Philippines, more than 17,000 war veterans came to US hoping that they would be recognized and treated fairly in terms of rights and benefits. Unfortunately, this has never happened.) These 6 Filipino veteran couples, whom our church visited in 1995, have been living in a small one-room studio, because the $500.00 pension benefit (a fraction of what the non-Filipino veterans have been receiving)was not sufficient to rent a one-bedroom apartment. So, imagine a room partitioned with curtains to give each couple their much-needed privacy. Imagine these couples with very little money left for their food, because they have to send money to their families in the Philippines, most likely, to pay the money they loaned to migrate. Tell me where the parity right lies.

The Filipino-American war veterans have been trying to demand equal rights since then. Some of them went on a hunger strike, some chained themselves to the fence of the White House and to the monument of Gen. Douglas MacArthur in Los Angeles in 1997 in order to be heard. Unfortunately, they still are fighting for their rights until now.

Currently, there is a bill known as "the Veterans Benefit Enhancement Act" (S-1513) in the US Congress. It is assumed that the bill is on the verge of natural death, because many US representatives are playing deaf and dumb. Some of them consider that Filipino war veterans are not entitled to equal benefits, because they were mustered during World War II to defend their own country. This argument is blatant lie. Philippines was still an American colony during World War II. These Filipino war veterans were fighting for the interest of the American government, not for the Philippines. It was only on July 4, 1946, when Philippine was formally proclaimed as a Republic. Don't you think they ought to have that parity rights that they have been demanding as promised by the 33rd US President Harry S. Truman that "these surviving Filipino World War II veterans will received equal treatment as American veterans?

I just hope that the US Congress and Senate will open their eyes and ears to realize the tough living condition of the Filipino-American war veterans.

In the spirit of Veterans Day, I salute the war veterans, particularly those who still are fighting for their rights to be heard.

Cali's Prop. 8 Has Won! Get Over it!

2008-11-08T15:05:00.000-08:00

Proposition 8 was the most expensive and controversial proposition in California during the Presidential election. An estimated total of $80 million were spent during the campaign. Sadly, those who opposed Prop. 8 are still spending more money to support protest march, which has been going on from San Francisco to San Diego. It is even believed that this protest rally would reach Salt Lake City, Utah.

If this proposition was for the State of California, how come the oppositions are going to hold protest rally in Utah? It is because they are specifically angry at the Mormon church for chipping in too much dollars to campaign against same-sex marriage.

Yes, Proposition 8 is a bill sponsored by those who are against same-sex marriage. It won over a slim margin, 52.3% yes to 47.7% no.

I know why the oppositions are having protest marches. They wanted to influence or delay the decision of the State to go ahead with the constitutional amendment. This follows the idea of the U.S. political scientist Robert Dahl (1956, 1963), one of the beautiful characteristics of democracy.

Come on, the election is over. Face defeat. Blame yourself. Oppositions should have spent double-time, triple-time, or gazillion time campaigning against Prop. 8 before the election if they really wanted to win. Unfortunately, they didn't. Probably, they were so over-confident that they could muster the popular vote of Californians after the State Supreme Court thwarted their 2004 decision, that annulled the 3,995 same-sex marriages allowed by Mayor Gavin of San Francisco, on May 15, 2008. Since May almost 18,000 same-sex marriages licenses were issued, according to a UCLA study. They probably never thought that many Californians are still highly into their religious values. Many Californians still cannot divorce marriage from their Christian belief that marriage is ordained by God to be a man-woman relationship.

I just hope that those who are for same-sex marriage would look at it differently. Even though an amendment to the California constitution to specifically acknowledge that marriage is a bond between a man and a woman, their right to cohabit, their right to display their love in public, their right for hospital visitation, their right to own and share property together are still not taken away from them. It is only the privilege of tying a knot in marriage that are not freely given to them.

Every Californians has rights. Oppositions of Prop. 8 were just out-voted during the election. So, let's get over it.

FIRST MIXED RACE U.S. PRESIDENT

2008-11-05T09:29:00.000-08:00

It would still be monumental and historic to say that the 44th President of the USofA is a mixed race and not be labeled solely as African-American. In fact, it would be more fitting to the American society. Why? I tell you why.

It would mitigate race relation and racial divide. It is a non-domineering term. It embodies the real USofA as a melting pot. It symbolizes the real democratic country populated by migrants. It helps everyone to identify and, hopefully, unite with, and support Obama administration as it faces challenges in solving pressing problems. It brings hope and aspiration to everybody.

As we probably have known already, the term African-American was revitalized in the late 1980s to replace the term, Afro-American, a self description popularized by the black community in 1960s. The former is well-accepted by many, because it does not send a picture of nappy hair. However, others, like the Haitian, who are of African descent, would not identify themselves as such. Haitian still prefers to be called black. Some members of the African-American community, like Malcolm X and Martin Luther King, Jr. have described this as America's "hypocrisy". And so until now the 1944 classic study of Swedish economist, Gunnar Myrdal, on the American Dilemma still exist.

It is true that the 44th President of the United States of America has an African father; however, he has a Caucasian mother, and an Indonesian step-dad. He is not only an African-American. He is a United Nation, personified. That's one thing, besides his smartness, confidence, youthfulness, and intelligence, that made him very attractive to everybody. Remember, more than 50% of those who voted for Barack Obama were Caucasian. And Asian have voted for him, too.

I just hope that the media and, Barack Obama himself, would start using the term mixed race, so that the incoming administration can truly represent equality and indivisibility among the citizens of the United States of America.

A POETRY BLOG & A THOUGHT ON UNICEF PROGRAM

2008-11-01T12:59:00.000-07:00

Well, Halloween is over. Today is the UNICEF day... time to donate some "Old Presidents" as this United Nation's organization help educate and nourish young minds in developing countries.

Yes, I still cannot forget those years in the early 60s, when I helped my grade school teacher-mom, opened those huge tins of golden cheese and bags of powdered whole milk from the UNICEF. To many Filipinos, who live in the rural areas, cheese was never a part of their meals; hence, cheese was absolutely introduced by the UNICEF program to them. Initially, many kids did not like the taste; however, teachers like my mom, patiently educated the kids of its nutritional value. Slowly, the kids begin to like it. Before the end of the school year, most wanted to have a bigger share of it so that their parents could have some, too. And the powdered whole milk? Oh, the schoolchildren loved them. Kids were always ready with their cone-shaped paper for that powdered milk. They wanted to be the first person in the line. As the kids were going home from school, most of them were sipping the powdered milk through a small hole at the tip of those cone-shaped paper. So, friends, I, for one, would like to see the UNICEF program go on. Hope you are, too.

Meanwhile, here is the last part of my special story blog, The Curse. This is the poetry version. You also can read this in my book, KOILAWAN: Letters and Poems of a Jungle Dad-Mom. Enjoy!

(14) SAVING A DEAR CHILD
Edmund melig Industan

The wailing stopped! Some gasped in disbelief.
Seems it's the last oink at a slaughterhouse.
It slowly faded, hush was all around
Not one in jungle wailed again that night.

I won't forget that rainy night of yore.
A mom with ember cried in pain…for help.
An infant was about to see his grave,
For jungle culture is in darkest night.

The smoke of death had passed through villages.
The child's mom inhaled, kicked the bucket.
With culture so unique and so mundane,
This nursing child, considered the culprit.

The ember left, I followed it in haste.
…Unmindful of the muddy narrow trail.
My thought was on a roller coaster ride.
The prayer I made, the only calming state.

The chanting wail got loud as loud can be,
…As I edged closer to that bark-walled shack.
The soft and somber tune of bamboo lute,
I now can hear amidst the oinks and barks.

Just as I started climbing that chipped log
The shaman yelled a yapping, 'wo-wo-wo!'
Warding the evil off with frond of palm
That village could be freed from frightful woe.

Just as my head surfaced that squeaking floor…
The child, I saw, half-naked that cold night.
As he saw me, he cried with opened arms…
As if to tell me, 'Please, save me tonight!'

I tip-toed 'round the corpse that lay in state…
Around the spouse, who's laid there fetus-form.
Picked up the child and swayed him in my arms…
And calm him from a dreadful crying bout.

As soon as comfort came to this poor child,
The wails of kin and chants of shaman rolled.
Consoling words I gave, but not enough!
Most kin would like to see the child dead!

'He's curse! He'd kill again someday.
Our forebear wouldn't want… see him alive!
The pestle's ready! Press his neck tonight!
That curse will end and joy… is here again!'

As catalyst, I tried and tried so hard.
I gave them reasons known in heaven and earth.
But shaman's word's so strong, and mine was weak.
Until I stood and said, "I'd take the curse!"

The chirping crickets stopped; the silence heard!
And there's no hooting owl was overheard!
Right then, I knew, I'd stop! The battle's won!
Flee darkness! Flee! Oh, light! Illuminate!

At last, the grandma's nod was quietly given.
The tapping rain had stopped; the stars have shown.
The grips, I felt, from teeny-tiny hand
Seemed saying,' Thanks! You're here…now I'm alive!'

I left the stilt shack with a swaddled child…
Feeling the stares of eyes in darkness loomed.
A force seemed pushing me to a sure doom.
In prayer I whispered, 'Thanks…now, be my guide.'

Maybe you wonder after two decades.
I'm still alive! Still Kicking! Humbly proud!
The jungle came to know what's wrong and right
…The child? Oh, yes! My child is still alive.

(c) edmund industan, 2007

NOTE: Those who still have not gotten a copy of KOILAWAN, check it out now in your favorite online book outlets. The book is still available in 21 countries. A portion of my royalty fee will go to the Ata Manobo Literacy Fund of the Translators Association of the Philippines, a non-profit Christian organization that I used to head before I migrated to the USofA.

SPECIAL SHORT STORY BLOG (Part 2)

2008-10-31T10:17:00.000-07:00

Hey Y'all,

It's Halloween! Many kids and adult will be out in the street tonight trick or treating. The night will be spooky with lighted jack-o-lanterns and masked and dressed-up people walking around; however, most kids and kids-at-heart will be happy to have all the sweets and goodies they can have for November, and maybe for Christmas. LOL.

My experienced among the Ata Manobo was scary, but I knew God was with me. It also was a blessing, because it was one way that God answered my prayer about something. But you have to get the book, KOILAWAN, to know what is it.

Meantime, please enjoy reading the second and the last installment of the story, The Curse.

Since my stay in Koilawan, I heard several reports from
other villages of babies killed by their grieving families.
The babies were left in a village to die, placed in the coffin
and buried with the mom alive, or killed by pressing their
necks with a long wooden pestle. It still didn’t happen in our
village, because many of the villagers were already learning
and accepting the infallibility of God’s Word. Nevertheless,
this bereaved family was a new resident in our village and
one of those families, who still have not attended in any of
our Bible studies.

Tonight, I noticed something inside which was
uncommon in an Ata Manobo hut. It was a meter and a half
wooden pestle. To see it inside was so nerve-wracking that
I immediately paused for a silent prayer that God will guide
me to persuade the family not to let the baby die. I firmly
believed that without God’s intervention, the baby will be
6-feet under the following day.

The village chief was already there. The shaman, whose
hut was grandiosely standing few yards away, was audibly
chanting pleading for the malevolent spirit to spare the
village from harm. The grieving husband was lying on his
side like a fetus on the bark floor very close to the corpse.
The uncombed mother-in-law picked a charcoal and drew
a circle around the area where her son-in-law was lying
quietly. Then, the chief said, “Nephew (as he fondly calls me
to signify my acceptance in the village), I tried to convinced
them not to put the blame on the baby, however, the grandmother,
the shaman, and the uncles were against it. Please
try to talk them out of it.”

With all the programs in the village, the clinic, children’s
literacy class in the morning, adult’s literacy class in the
afternoon, the singing and the Bible Studies in the night
which usually ends at 10 p.m., hymn translation, counseling,
and entertaining village visitors, my use of the Ata language
has been non-stop; hence, I have been becoming more fluent
with it. Nevertheless, when the chieftain delegated the role of
persuading the family, I felt a lump in my throat. It was diffi
cult for me to open my mouth. I knew that I needed wisdom
of a smart and witty Ata chieftain for them to listen.
I was about to say a word when the baby twitched his
arms. I thought that it was nothing; however, I realized
he was having a backdoor trot. I handed him over to that
woman, who braved the rain, to clean him up.

“Oyyyyy…,” the grandmother began chanting a pentatonic
dirge. “Tomorrow, I won’t see you anymore, my
beautiful girl.” She sobbed in between lines. “Oyyyy….
Who would gather firewood now, who would dig yams for
dinner, who would weed the field ….now that you’ve left
us? Oyyyy….my breath is in pain”. She paused longer to sob
some more. Then, with an angered voice, she said, “You’re
gone, because of your child!” And she looked at the child, so
angry that her puffy brown eyes were so sharp. They could
pierce through a callous heart.

The uncles, who, like the mother, were mad at the baby,
nodded in concert. One of them reached for the wooden
pestle lifted it… then putting it behind him.
I took the lifting of the pestle as a good sign. Such action
made me to believe that the baby has left a soft spot in some
of these hearts. I looked at the guy to acknowledge his action,
but he spewed a big lump of red betel nut in response. I was
lost, in a few seconds, to see such rude response, however, I
felt, later, that it probably was just a showmanship to fool the
others on what’s deep in his heart.

The shaman made a much louder hair-raising chant.
There were thumping of feet that the dogs barked; the pig
sheltering under the stilt hut oinked. Some women from
nearby huts responded with their most common expression,
“Yoooogoy! Hmmm!”

“I know you are sad tonight. I am, too. You know how I
tried my best to feed her with water and porridge this afternoon,
when the mom took her to my house. But we all must
accept that the entire tribe, including our village, has been
undergoing some trials in life. It is nobody’s fault. The wind
brought the epidemic to us.”

“Yes, it is somebody’s fault. It is his fault!” The grandmother
pointed at the baby with her puckered lips. The red
betel nut juice was dripping on the side of her mouth. “He’s
the one who sucked the strength of my daughter. He must
not live!”

The uncles nodded again almost in unison.
“Apu (grandmother), the baby did nothing wrong. Your girl
was already very sick, when you came back from running to the
thickest forest to avoid the sickness. In fact, your grandson is
now very light and thin. It means that he had been denied of the
“white blood” (milk) even before your girl got sick. What good
does it do to you now, if you would kill the baby? Nothing! Give
him the chance to live…to grow and learn how to build a hut, hunt
wild games, make a kamot (Swidden field) to provide your food
in the future.” I tried my best to be calmed, yet strong enough to
instill authority. However, it seemed not good enough.
The uncles and the grandmother stood up and yelled a deafening
wild shriek of lament. One uncle started to brandish his
machete. The baby was stunned and cried frantically.
“Lord, please intervene!” That was all I could whisper.

While looking at them, I felt a force that made me got up. And
without waiting for them to calm down, I shouted, “Alright! I
take the curse. You believe this innocent baby is cursed, because
his mom died, while drinking her white blood. And I know that
you also believe that if someone would take the curse off him, he
would be free from it. Now, I am taking it. I do not have experience
taking care of a baby, much more… nourishing a malnourished
baby. But I would take the risk of keeping him. Should he
die, it means that he really is cursed; hence, I am willing for you
all to kill me!” Tearfully I pleaded. In the Ata society, men do
not cry.

The uncles and the grandmother looked at me in disbelief.
Here was the guy, who they thought was very brave to live with
them all by himself, but now he’s crying just to save a cursed
baby. They all quietly sat down. I heard the shaman made a
hard, strange, unpleasant, emphatic, guttural sound, ‘uhhh!’ to
express his disapproval contrary to the voices of the village chief
and the people from around the hut. I was silent! I was praying.
I claimed the power of God, when He protected the Israelites
from the Egyptians, who were chasing them before they crossed
the Red Sea (Exodus 14:21-31). This grandmother was known
to have a heart of a stone. She’s an avid follower of the Shaman.
She even won’t build a hut away from the shaman. She’s not
open to hearing God’s word. But, God moved in a mysterious
way. He can really move mountain for after several minutes, she
nodded sternly staring at me. I replied with a gentle nod, took the
baby from that smiling woman who asked my help earlier, and
then, started to descend slowly down that old wobbly chipped
log. I left the hut very happy and relieved. I was overjoyed for
the victory. I prayed thanking God and trusting that out of this
event, on this pitch dark night Light will continue to shine not
only in Koilawan, but in the entire Ata Manobo tribe.
While walking away from the hut, it seemed that I heard
singing and chanting from far away accompanied by the
swooshing wind and the swaying trees. But at the same time,
it seemed that some forces were blowing a very cold air on my
nape that I felt my hair rising up. One thing that I was sure of that
night was that the rain stopped. The baby held my shoulder so
tight, while we traversed the muddy trail. It seemed he was telling
me, ‘Thank you for saving me!’ And I pretty can remember that
I said, “Thank you, Lord, for giving me the courage to say those
words. Indeed, you are powerful. Indeed, I will need you to keep
this baby alive. So, come near me, Lord Jesus.”

Do you know why I said earlier that this child was an answer
to my prayer? Well, Parasio, I’ll tell you why next time.

SHORT STORY POST (Part 1): A Special Blog

2008-10-29T09:39:00.000-07:00

Hey Y'all,

I just took my granddaughter, who is turning two today, to Party City for her halloween/birthday costume. And, oh boy, imagine how she shrieked when she saw an animated mannequin that raises its bloody face every now and then, which was standing right by the door.

Yes, my friends, halloween is huge in the USofA that many people forget the economic crunch as they try their best to catch or stir the public attention by putting up the scariest or controversial decor outside their homes and business establishments. Besides jack-o-lantern and ornamental squash, one house in Beverly Hills put up two mannequins, who are dressed like Republican candidates, Sen. John McCain and Gov. Sarah Palin. Sad thing, Ms. Palin is hanging on a nooze. It was a smart move, though, that the one on a nooze isn't the Democrat candidate Barack Obama. It could have resulted a commotion and protest rally from the African-American communities.

Now, enough of the US culture. I also have experienced a scary cultural moments in my life. One of these was when I was working among the Ata Manobo of southern Philippines. I have decided to share the story to you if you haven't read it yet in my book, KOILAWAN: Letters and Poems of a Jungle Dad-Mom, which is still available in 21 countries through online book outlets. You also could get it from the publisher, Xulon Press.

(13) THE CURSE

Koilawan, Davao
January 1980

Dear Parasio,

Rain was pouring so hard since this morning. River Lib was bursting to its seams. The cornfield by the river was already flooded since this afternoon. Drift woods and
bamboo saplings were floating and making those banging and screechy noise as they hit the rocky riverbank. Those who owned the saplings were sad for losing them, and one father was sadder for also losing his baby boy. I went to see him this morning and I felt bad to hear him telling me that he should have listened to my instruction of making that salt and sugar boiled water solution. His baby should have been alive today. He cared less for losing the saplings, however, he was hurting, because of his stubbornness. Usually, along with the rapping of the raindrops on our old wood shingle roofing, chants and tribal lullabies reverberate up and down this small remote village. However, tonight, besides the banging, the screeching and the swooshing in river Lib, the village is generally quiet.

I was rocking myself on a rattan chair, while listening to the rain-induced percussion music and looking at the flickering light of our gas lamp. The raindrops and the flame were having fun lulling me to sleep, when a quiet night was interrupted by shrill cries from one of the stilt huts. I stood up, held the gas lamp, opened our bamboo window and shouted, “Wuhhhh! What’s going on?”

“The wife of Usi’ U. passed away!” Our next door neighbor shouted in reply.

I sank back to the chair forlorn. I lost the strength I regained awhile back from a real long day giving cholera shots and teaching reading and writing to the kids. Few hours ago, I spoon-fed water to that dehydrated feverish woman. Now, she’s dead!

“God”, as I prayed silently, “Please let this epidemic pass by. Let the people….” I was not able to finish my sentence when I heard a woman’s voice at our rain-soaked trimmed Bermuda grass yard. I opened the window again. The woman, whose right
hand was holding a long, slender banana leaf over her head to protect her from the rain; the other was swaying an ember, was the niece of the decease.

“Please come to our hut. Help me save my aunt’s four-month old baby boy.”

Without putting my old running shoes on, I picked up my flashlight and ran the filthy, muddy trail to the stilt hut where the wailing was deafening. The baby was also crying hysterically. After I greeted those on the ground, I began to balance myself up on that slippery, wobbly chipped log, which was just a little bigger than a 26 oz. can of spaghetti sauce. Before I was able to sit on a squeaking bark floor, my heart melted to see the curly-haired malnourished baby boy, looking at me with his arms opened wide. His wide eyes seemed to tell me that he did nothing wrong… that I have to do something to save him. I picked him up, placed him on my chest, and gently patted his back to silent him. The baby hugged me and his loud cry turned into off and on sob until he quieted down, asleep.

Since my stay in Koilawan, I heard several reports from other villages of babies killed by their grieving families. (To be continued)

NOTE: Part 2 will be posted on Friday. Part 3 will be posted on Saturday, as my regular weekend blog.

Race and Immigration Interest: Factors in the US Election

2008-10-26T07:36:00.000-07:00

November 4 is just eight days away and responsible and concerned Americans should have all voted as to who will be their next commander-in-chief. Would it be a "donkey", Sen. Barack Obama, or an "elephant", Sen. John McCain?

My friend in Namibia, a republic in South-West Africa bounded by Angola, Zambia, Botswana, South Africa, and the Atlantic Ocean, told me that Namibians would like to see Obama win. My friends in the Philippines, a republic in South-East Asia with more or less 7,100 islands, would like Sen. Obama to win. My Indonesian-American friend is definitely for Barack Obama.

Besides the youthfulness of Sen. Barack Obama, I am assuming that racial affinity and migration interest are pulling voters to the Democratic camp.

In order for me to solidify my hunches, I went around Pasadena, a beautiful city in Southern California, to ask non-Caucasian Americans in parks, city streets, churches, and at Paseo de Colorado on their possible presidential votes. Almost all of those I asked would be voting for Sen. Barack Obama. Reasons given were the following: born and raised in an interracial family, experienced normal living in other countries, received a short humble education in Indonesia would help him understand international issues, particularly the immigration concerns of many foreign-born Americans.

Immigration issues were never talked about during the three presidential debates. Topics were focused on the pressing need to find solution to the economic woes. However, deep in the heart of many foreign-born Americans, they are counting for Sen. Barack Obama to positively address a comprehensive immigration reform, which was one of the hottest senatorial and congressional debates in 2007.

Definitely, the African and Asian population would like to see the democrat win. The name and the Kenyan blood that runs in Obama's vein, and his affinity and his little taste of elementary education in Indonesia are factors to their votes.

According to a 2006 study on "The Immigration Population of the United States..." by Jack Martin, one in every eight US residents is foreign-born, and California has the largest. With that said, I am tempted to say, "Beginning in January 2009, the first mixed-race President of the United States of America will begin his term."

So, American voters, go out on the 4th of November and vote.

The American Middle School

2008-10-22T10:10:00.000-07:00

During my teaching stint in Texas in the 90s, all the teachers were given t-shirts that says, "I'm in the middle and loving it!" In January, my fellow teacher, whose homeroom was across mine, came to me just before we left for the day. She showed her shirt. It says, "I'm in the middle and hating it!" A month before the end of the school year, she came to me again and showed me the same t-shirt. However, this time it says, "I'm in the middle and I'm quitting it!" That was it. She did not come back the following school year. She got tired "policing" these middle school kids.

Then,in 2004, I read, "Focus on the Wonder Years: Challenges Facing the American Middle School", a study done under the auspices of RAND Education (Juvonen,J., Augustine,C., et.al, 2004). The objectives of the study: To assess the state of the middle schools, particularly on its effectiveness in bringing about academic achievement, and to identify the school's major challenges to effectuate its function. It was a good study; however, most of its recommendations were vague and (for me) very weak.

Three recommendations of RAND study were the following: Offer intervention for the lowest performing students, possibly including summer programs...; adopt comprehensive disciplinary models that focus on preventing discipline problem and changing social norms or peer culture that fosters antisocial behavior, and offer parents information about the academic and instructional goals and methods used in middle grades and suggests activities to facilitate learning at home.

Since I once a participant in and an observer of the American Middle School education, I would like to comment and suggest.

Indeed, there is a great need to intervene, to come up with disciplinary models, and to suggests some learning activities at home and inform parents with what is going on at school. And indeed, these were not new. I taught the middle school kids in 1993 and my school have been implementing actions similar to RAND recommendations. Nevertheless, many fellow teachers were still not very effective in teaching these kids. Main problem were the lack of DISCIPLINE and RESPECT among these kids. So, why can't the educational system zero in on these problems? We all know that without discipline and respect, no education can take place. Without discipline and respect, no class is conducive to learning. Without discipline and respect, infightings and bullying among kids will be the common sight of the day. That is why middle school teachers would say that they are paid to "police" these kids.

Definitely, we were acting as police officers, during my middle school teaching stint. Teachers were in the school ground just before class, not to socialize with the kids, but to avoid fights and be ready to break a fight between these kids. Then, in between class periods, we were on our feet standing by the hallway for the same reason. In class, we always were in the look out of possible bullying and unruly behavior, which usually happened even before the completion of a 5-minute language drill. Ironically, we were strictly required to follow (and complete) the prescribed lessons of the day, which often times unexplained well (because many kids, who have attention deficit disorder (ADHD) do not want to listen anymore); hence, teacher ended up giving seat works for them to sit still. The school copying room was always busy. The resources alloted for ink cartridges and copying papers were depleted before spring break.

Hopefully, the incoming president of the USofA would push the educational system to a reform that could response to the disciplinary problem in the middle school. Frankly, US has no problem with the elementary schools. Effective instruction have been taking place from Head Start to 5th grade. Colleges and universities are still top-notch, still the best in the world. It is the middle school (6th to 8th grades) that American educational system is problematic. And middle school education is crucial. It is the period when kids undergo multiple physical, social, and psychological changes. It is the period when testosterone and progesterone are activated and jumping, trying to get loose like crazy. It is the period of experimentation and assertion of self. It is the period when kids try to challenge leadership both at home and at school. Incorporating a "military" program in the curriculum could be a solution to the problem. Why not try it?

US Presidential Debate On Education

2008-10-18T00:14:00.000-07:00

Last question of the moderator, Mr. Schieffer, during the final presidential debate at Hofstra University on October 15th was on education. Both Senators, Barack Obama and John McCain, specifics did not meet my expectation. I thank them, though, for not forgetting parents as a significant factor in the success of education. I am just sad that Mr. Obama considered parents as the last ingredients, and McCain considered them solely as a decision maker as to where their kids go.

What American education really needs are change of priority, equality of compensation and attention, and complete trust and support for its classroom teachers.

Most teachers are very good and gifted; however, it is also true that there are few bad tomatoes among them. Teachers were not born yesterday. They pretty well know what are in store for them in the classroom. They were trained as educators for 4 years and have passed the certification exams. Therefore, America does not need to have what Obama called new generation of teachers and what McCain suggested to weed out poor-performers. Ousting bad teachers have been going on ever since. That's the reason why the school administrators do both announced and unannounced evaluation of classroom teachers' performance several times in a school year.

The USofA needs to change priority in its educational system. It needs to emphasize the 3Rs not just math and science. It is just too bad that many schools are now emphasizing non-academic programs, like competitive sports. I cannot forget the shock while teaching middle school in Port Arthur, Texas. I learned that the entry level salary of a football coach was twice as much as the academic teachers. (And check the differences of a college coach salary to an academic professor. It could be worst.) With the incongruity of salaries, tell me, what is the priority and what signal are we sending to the school children, not to mention the kids' knowledge on the salaries of professional athletes. If schools would continue to instill and reinforce the culture of sports, there's no way for America to improve its educational system.

It needs to emphasize students' discipline in the classroom. And America needs to give complete trust and support as to how teachers instill discipline and manage their classroom as long as such discipline program is not abusive. The problem facing the system nowadays is the fear of teachers of being ousted by the district or sued for "excessive" discipline by over-protective parents. True, there is a need to monitor the disciplinary action of every teacher, but to create the feeling of fear does not help teachers with their classroom management. Time outs and putting middle school student in a corner are barely helping, especially if there are 30 rowdy students in a classroom. There was a time when I was tempted to yell at a student,"Settle down or I'll whack your butt real hard." Parents can say that to their kids, but why is it abusive for teachers to threaten them like the parents do? Yes, teachers could send undisciplined kids to the assistant principal office to be paddled, but what help does the paddling do when students ended up coming back to the classroom with a wide grin on their faces, because the paddling were not painful at all. Slight whacking is, for me, a complete joke. And for the students? They consider it fun (or funny)and an opportunity to be out of the classroom.

I would like to suggest that when a rowdy kid needs whacking, the school should call on the parents. Have that parents come to school and have them whack their own kids right in front of the assistant principal. I believe this would achieve active participation of parents to the education of their kids, at the same time, free the school personnel from their fear of being sued. Pulling off TV set and putting away video games is not complete participation of parents in their kid's education. Having them come to school and actively participate in the disciplinary action is, to me, a real active participation. But ask any public school teacher what happened during an "open house" and PTA meetings? Teachers would tell you that there would be very few parents come if attendance would not be checked. But ask the parents what they'd do if they heard their kids hurt or complained of being abused. Parents would sprint to the principal office and elevate their complaints to the school board.

Look what happen recently at Simeon High School in Chicago. A volleyball coach was ousted for employing corporal punishment to the players. Chicago Sun-Times(Oct. 8)quoted this statement from the overly protective mom,"...I couldn't believe it. I lost my mind." Did she asked the kid why? Did she try to rationalize the coaches action or did she immediately went berserk. It seemed that the latter was true. Did the school board asked themselves, why were the other kids mad at this kid after the coach resigned?

The rowdiness of students can never be discouraged if teachers are even afraid to stop a fistfight in their classrooms. Teachers are not only afraid to be hurt, they are afraid to be sued by the parents if they accidentally pushed or touch a sensitive part of the student. One Caucasian science teacher at the school where I taught was asked to resign by the school board after he accidentally pushed one of the two African-American kids, who had a fistfight, onto a wall. I was a little bit fortunate that my principal and most of my students were on my side, when a rowdy 7th grader, complained that I touched her breast. Her parents immediately rushed to the principal office. I was made to explain the case. Other students were interviewed. The principal considered the allegation unfounded. The parents threatened me to take it to the school board. The parents were not successful in convincing the district, so they ended up threatening me on the phone.

I cannot forget while my colleague and I were on our way to a professional development workshop in Beaumont, Texas. My colleague told me that she gets frustrated, because even with all these development trainings, it seems that the principles and methodologies that she learned at the university and in seminars and workshops are ineffective. I knew she loved to teach. I knew she was smart. She was even teaching an honor's English class. I told her that probably what we need in order for teachers to teach effectively is a training on military strategy and tactic.

Look! Military curriculum is an elective course in American educational system and it is offered to high school kids, while it is a prescribed program in other countries. Why could we not have a compulsory military training among the middle school kids, where discipline (or shall I say classroom management) have been very problematic. Military program instills discipline and develops proper conduct,not competition. This would help take care of querulous and rowdy kids.

So there you are, my friends. Yes, we need to correct the American education system, but we don't only need to remunerate our teachers well and re-prioritize the school program. We need to strongly show our complete trust and support to the teachers' classroom management, and to require parents to board the ship and actively participate in in-school disciplinary actions.

NOTE: For Filipino readers, I wrote another weekend blog exclusive to GreatPinoy.com. I would appreciate it very much if you also could check it out. Maraming salamat!

A Hey Poem (Dasang) on Voting Govt. Officials

2008-10-15T00:23:00.000-07:00

I am anxiously looking forward to the third and the last US Presidential Debate, which will be held tonight at Hofstra University in Hempstead, New York.

In line with the debate and the coming presidential election, I decided to post another experimental performance poetry, the Hey Poem, entitled Voters, Wake Up! This poem has been included in my upcoming book, THE EXPERIMENTAL DASANG (Hey Poem) and 45 OTHER POETRY FORMS.

VOTERS, WAKE UP!
Edmund M. Industan

A blot of an ink on a boxed paper board;
A hit of that screen with names that we know,
An effort from us with hope that it would
Better the globe; changed rotting world.

Soar to the world! See how they perform.
First year o’erflows with peaches and cream;
Following months served with decaying fruit…
Good to the cronies; bad to those who can’t be reached
With the magic wand of the elected!

But hey!
It is ‘them’ fault? Or it’s ‘us’ to blame!

Hey!
We put them there! And we sleep and dream!

Hey!
The bed of roses would slip so fast…
Then we’re awake, we cried for a failed task!

We muster the disgruntled; we marched to the street.
To the leaders, we’re roaches to be quashed and contained.
We joined forces to startle and threaten
Wishing for more strength! But alas! ‘twas hard to gain.

Many of us would raise our hands up.
Others would show thumbs down for the lame.
The herd disoriented! Others jumped off! Some were maimed!
Those voices so strong before…now just whispers of dying men.

But hey!
It’s not the end! The full term will come!
Let’s educate every man this time!
Let’s cast our vote wisely mark for those
Candidates, who have brains and brawns…
Morals pleasing to God and not just to men!

(c) e. industan, 2007

I hope and pray that voters will vote wisely on Nov. 4th.

MY TAKE ON NATIONAL SENTIMENT

2008-10-11T12:22:00.000-07:00

Here we go again. Scriptwriters and actors continue to hit Filipinos below the belt. I understand. They wanted to make their TV programs draw more viewers. Nevertheless, if they do it at the expense of someone’s dignity, to the extent that it results to a skewed stereotyping, that’s a different story. The problem is that many actors are so irresponsible that they would just blurt anything a scriptwriter would put in their mouths and late night talk show hosts would scour for funny dialogue to keep their viewers awake.

First case was on September 30, 2007. Susan in “Desperate Housewives” boldly said, “Can I just check those diplomas because I just want to make sure that they are not from some med school in the Philippines.” This was a dialogue between Susan and her gynecologist. Next was on October 25, 2007. Late night talk show host, Jimmy Kimmel, while interviewing actor Josh Hartnett said, “(in the Philippines) people probably don’t speak English there”. Now, similar case has happened in the U.K. A comedian included in his performance a Filipina domestic helper, who was flirting and acting like dumb with her British master. Such irresponsible dialogue and showmanship maybe flattering to many, but (oh, boy!) it is a live coal waiting to rekindle the national sentiment to others.

National sentiment is a sense of collective solidarity by a group within identified geographical and cultural boundaries. It sparks when an outsider unfairly treats them. Such treatment, more or less, draws emotional, impulsive, irrational, regressive, with high intensity to the subjected cultural group. That has been happening among the Filipino communities, not only in USA and U.K. With easy access to electronic communication highway, such sentiment quickly spreads in other parts of the world.

Depending on the harshness of the event, responses by subjected group may vary. Anger, disgust, strike, picket, demonstration, boycott, mob, lynching, and those who see TV programs as purely entertainment see it as a matter of art. Nationalistic individuals, who have strong affinity to their country of origin or those who have experienced indifference from their host culture or another cultural group would react vehemently. Mentally unstable individual could react injuriously. Bicultural and assimilated individuals would take it ambivalent.

Just like individualistic artist, I take my national sentiment differently. Besides boycotting, (I haven’t watched “Desperate Wives” and “Jimmy Kimmel Live” since then) I paint and etch the event in paper hoping that those who could read it would get a kernel of history lesson in it. Hence, I wrote this “Hey Poem”, which is an experimental performance poetry adapted from the indigenous Dasang of the Higa-onon tribe in southern Philippines against the words of the late night talk show host, Jimmy Kimmel.

LOOK! WHO’S TALKING
Edmund Melig Industan

Oh, yeah! That midnight show on ABC.
And Josh Hartnett was with Jimmy.
They talked about the film per se
That’s partly shot in the Philippines.

I watched and listened with delight. (Oh, yeah)
Nostalgia purling with my insomnia
I watched the antic with a grin until
The host said they can’t speak our English there.

Hey!
My blood has spurted so high!
Hey!
Bellagio fountain… that high!
Hey!
My head has spanned ‘round three sixty.
It triggered a fiery anxiety.

I’m pinoy! I speak English well. Not a lie!
But I’m just a piece of that whole brown pie.
I even taught English to Texan kids;
So, check your mouth, more research, you need.

It is true that some pinoys could only say,
‘Hey! Chocolate, Joe!’ ‘Hey! Cigarette, Joe!’
But, please, don’t dare say that leaf is a tree;
Don’t leave out adjective ‘some’ off the tree.

Hey!
Though we speak English with gongs;
Hey!
So loud that they’re bikers’ “broom”!
Hey!
And others need to learn it well!
But don’t dare label that all don’t speak
English that well.

Think of your name, for once, Mr. Host.
It does not sound a “Smith” or a “Post”.
Trace where your blood originally sprung;
Check if they can speak the universal tongue.

Should you find the other way, you’re lucky.
Should you find they’re like what you say?
You’re sorry! You just hammered yourself
With an infected nail that breaks our society.

Hey!
I’m going to say this to you!
Hey!
Those tactless thought and racial jokes!
Hey!
They’re hard to chew as rubbery meat.
Well-done for safety sake! It’s not worth it!

Hey!
It tastes like bile in castor oil!
Hey!
It’s bitter, cleanses…entire bowel!
Hey!
It makes cold sweat that so gooey;
It could blow someone’s head away!

But hey!
We don’t need more brutality.
We need relation…harmony!
Your role as a celebrity is
Quell the fire spreading in the city.

So hey!
You let your voice fly high so high.
Let those night owls laugh hard but have them sigh.
Fly as a dove on sleepless night
Bringing olive spray to those in-fights!

We ought to check what we say on the air
Pay attention to those modifiers!
…For labeling and generalizing?
Not the best way to peace and understanding.

© edindustan, 2007

I hope everybody will become sensitive to the feelings of other people, especially when one is talking about people outside of his race. PEACE!

AILING ECONOMY: Yeah! What Now?

2008-10-08T09:28:00.000-07:00

The world’s economy is in trouble. The population, both the consumers and the producers, need prescriptions on how to survive. Consumers need comforting words to calm their worried souls. Producers need resuscitation from reckless game of extravagance and greed.

On July 11, while having my morning walk, I passed by a queue of people outside IndyMac Bank in Pasadena, California. Their faces and tones showed anger and apprehension. This was the first sign of economic problem in my locality. The US federal government stepped up and took control of the bank to calm the livid depositors. More banking and lending businesses followed suit. On Friday, October 3, a 700 Billion dollar bill was quickly signed by President Bush to bailout the ailing US economy.

Similarly, European economy has been in trouble. Associated Press reported on Sunday, Oct. 5, that European governments are scrambling to save failing banks. Germany held crisis talks to avoid distressing the entire economy after Hype Real Estate AG collapsed. Belgium’s Fortis NV is also in shaky ground. Iceland government and banking officials have also discussed a possible rescue plan for its overstretched commercial bank (see Prof. Piggington’s Econo-Almanac for Landed Poor website, Oct. 5)

In Asia, children are getting sick. Before, it was from lead-tainted toys and mercury-treated Tilapia fish from China. Now, it’s from food products with milk ingredients. The Chinese economic greed and quick-rich scheme led them to add melamine to their food products to boost protein content. It is now becoming a global concern. In fact, on Oct. 2, an independents laboratory, which was commissioned by the Philippine Bureau of Food and Drugs (BFD), positively tested melamine in 8 of the 14 food products that were imported from China. A sign of good governance, BFD also ordered two meat products to be tested. Surprise, surprise! One of the two meat products was found to be melamine-positive. The laboratory owner said that the meat could have come from livestock, which were given melamine-tainted feeds (ABS-CBN 5 News, Oct. 3). It’s comforting, though, to know that the Chinese government had stepped up its investigation. Finally, it had detained 6 suspects from Hothot, Mongolia, China’s main dairy-producing area (ABS-CBN 5 Online News, Oct. 6).

Who is to blame for this economic crisis? Certainly, the producers or the business corporations! Government has to be blamed. And… even the consumers have to take a little of the blame, too.

Business is a complex web about production, distribution, and exchange of goods and services. Production is dictated by demand; profit is dictated by producer’s greed. Without a stringent governance of the government, profit-driven producers will always attempt to circumvent the government regulation to get rich as quick as possible. That’s how informal economic network, like sweatshops and subcontracts, have proliferated. The main producers do not mind how products are produced. They just wanted to have the goods out in the market. Subcontractors do not mind how they produced the goods. They just wanted to meet their production quota to meet the producers’ demand. With both informal and formal economic network operating and humongous tons of products circulating the complex global economy, the problem cannot be detected easily. So, gone are the days when economics adamantly preaches “quality control”. Look what’s happening to the Chinese exported products! It seemed that quality control was never imposed!

Government considers cities or urban areas as sites of concrete operations of economy. Certainly, it regulates business owners. Nevertheless, like the producers, some government employees are also driven with their insatiable need. They are easily tempted or blind-sided with grease money that businesses offer them. Definitely, these government employees are aware that something fishy are going on. They know that subcontracting exists in the periphery, but they just don’t take these informal networks seriously until the problem is blown right in their faces. The oversight would later be blamed on lack of personnel to go around due to downsizing or whatever.

Consumers have to take the brunt of this ailing economy, too. Except for those who are buying goods and services for a dire need, many are taking the bait from the producers to satisfy their needs even beyond their purchasing power. They know they cannot afford a bigger house or whatnot, but they take the bait, anyway, so as to keep up with the Joneses. At the end of the day, it is the poorest of the poor and the honest consumers, who are victimized with unscrupulous business transactions between the producers and the government, and between the producers and the irresponsible consumers.

What now?

We need our government to be stricter with their governance. We need the government, who looks at the welfare of the ordinary and honest citizen day in and day out, and not when a crisis is already present. We need a government who strictly regulates the salary cap of business executives. We need the government, who are strict in overseeing their executives, as well as the ranks-and-files. We need producers or business corporations, who are fair and honest in producing their goods and services. Lastly, we need for the consumer to live within their means and for the poorest of the poor to be extra careful in consuming the goods and services offered by the market.

GOOD WORK, GOV. PALIN

2008-10-04T09:43:00.000-07:00

Can you believe it? There were more viewers of the US Vice Presidential Debate at Washington University in St. Louis, Missouri last Thursday than the Presidential Debate on September 26th. In fact, it was the second largest national debate, gaining 69.989 million viewers, next to the Presidential debate between Jimmy Carter and Ronald Reagan on Oct. 28, 1980 (Baltimore Sun, Oct. 4).

Definitely, Republican Vice Presidential Candidate, Ms. Palin, was the drawing force. Not only that she represented the women, she also was considered as the "real outsider" of Washington DC. She drew those people, who either mocked or disappointed on her interview with Katie Couric of Fox News days before the debate (see "Washington Wire", Wall Street Journal, Oct.3). People wanted to see if she could redeem herself. People wanted to know if she would be more of a vice "presidentiable" Ms. Palin, who knows more Supreme Court cases other than the Roe v. Wade, the 1973 ruling to legalize abortion.

Alaska Gov. Palin did a wonderful job. And, like many voting and non-voting residents in the USofA, I was happy with the debate's result. I would not go into who wins the debate, because many who do that are bias, anyways.

Nevertheless, the day before the debate, I submitted the article, "An Unsolicited Advice to Vice Pres. candidate, Ms. Palin" to Triond.com. It was published on the NewsFlavor.com (see http://www.newsflavor.com/politics/US-politics/An-Unsolicited-Advice...28235) I saw all those unsolicited advice done, except the very pageantry(ish)winking and colloquial expressions, which I considered not to be done by a Stateswoman. Winking is alright when one is flirting with or winning the votes of pageant judges and to acquaintances (including those informal verbal expressions), but never to impersonal and undecided voters.

Overall performance of Gov. Sarah Palin was very satisfactory. She has proven to the viewers that she is more than just a "hockey mom", a former mayor of a small Alaska town,and a governor of the 49th state of USA.

ON PLAGIARISM: Politics and Authorship

2008-10-01T10:18:00.000-07:00

Owen Lippert, a speech-writer for Canadian Prime Minister, has resigned after he was accused of plagiarism in a speech he made in 2003. Now, Mr. Lippert has not only lost his job; he also hurt his credibility. He also has hurt the credibility of Prime Minister Stephen Harper (BBC Online News, Oct. 1, 2008).

Plagiarism is a willful used of somebody else's literary work and producing it as one's original work. Even though, many students could have been practicing plagiarism when writing their term papers, there have been overzealous professional writers, who also have been stealing somebody's work.

Here are some authors and politician listed in Wikipedia, Free Online Encyclopedia.

Barack Obama's Vice Presidential candidate, Sen. Joe Biden, was forced out of the Presidential race in 1988 after it was discovered that parts of his speeches were copied from the speeches of British Labour Party leaders, Robert Kennedy and Neil Kinnock.

Helen Keller, the famous American author of The Miracle Worker" who became deaf and blind when she was 19-month old due to an acute illness, was accused of plagiarism in 1892. It was alleged that she copied part of Margaret T. Canby's story The Frost Fairies for her short story "The Frost Kings". Fortunately, she was acquitted by a single vote.

In 2006, Kaavya Viswanathan, a Harvard University student and budding author of How Opal Mehta Got Kissed, Got Wild and Got a Life, was also accused of plagiarism for copying passages from at least five novels. She started working on her novel when she was just a high school student in New Jersey. Then, while at Harvard, she completed her novel, got a book deal with Little, Brown and Co. and a film deal with Dreamworks SKG, and received $500,000. royalty advance fee. Consequently, the books were withdrawn before they were officially sold in bookstores, the deal rescinded, the film was canceled, and her name completely tarnished.

Plagiarism is not a grievous offense as copyright infringement when it comes to legal action; however, it is as grievous as the latter when it comes to one's name and personal ambition. Therefore, students, politicians, and budding authors must take precaution when working on their manuscripts.

The Owl At Purdue (Sep. 30, 2008), an online writing help published by Purdue University listed some ways to avoid plagiarism.

1. Give proper citation when copying (and pasting) somebody's work to your manuscript.
2. If you got an idea from what you have read, do not copy it as is. Rather, use that idea to write a topic related to it, but make it something new and original.
3. Before writing the manuscript, interview experts and authorities on the topic. Then, should you decide to quote them, give them the credit; however, don't just stop there. You have to express your thoughts if you are for or against their thoughts.
4. It is also important that you have to learn how to use your own words and your own style of expressing your thoughts.

When I am reading something and happen to see something that makes me say "AHA!", I usually copy it down, including the title of the book, the publisher, the date of the publication, and the page where I found that sentence or paragraph. These would help me with my citation later, if ever I would use it somewhere in my own manuscript. Nevertheless, I don't stop there. I always try to probe the author's point, trying to rationalize it based on what I believe in. Then, underneath that quotation, I write a highlighted word, MINE!, to express my thoughts on the idea and possibly an original idea that has sprung in my mind.

Please write and copy safe.

POLLS, FOCUS GROUP, and MY SCORE CARD: US First Presidential Debate

2008-09-27T11:02:00.000-07:00

Polls and focus group are two different research methods of getting public opinions. Most polls are taken through telephone or online, while focus group are based on a small discussion group on a series of topics introduced by a discussion leader, which of course is a voter himself. Results in both polls and focus groups has the tendency to be biased based on how participants are selected. Basically, it should be randomized; however, if the selection doesn't consider the political leanings of the participants, results of both methods would be prejudicial against another. That is how I see why all the results of the polls and focus groups on last night's US Presidential Debate favored the score to Sen. Obama, while many expert political critics saw the debate differently. (see BBC Online News, "McCain and Obama Spar in First Debate", Sept. 17.) We also must remember that most TV networks have openly shelled out their money to the Obama campaign. Such overwhelming financial support to Obama by these TV networks could have contributed to the skewed results on the polls and focus groups.

Now, allow me to give my unsolicited criticism.

1) Economic & Financial Rescue - Although both Republican candidate John McCain and Democratic candidate Barack Obama positively addressed this issues on strict regulations and accountability, McCain has specifically satisfied me on how he would carry out his plans, particularly on Business Tax Cut. He got in-depth reasoning, contrasting Ireland's 11% business tax rate against US 35%. I see his point loud and clear. In economics, when investors are hit with a high tax rate, they'd bring their busines elsewhere to make more profit. That is why many US investors are bringing their businesses overseas were the business tax rate, the wage rate, and the raw materials are low, putting the US workers out of jobs. Obama, on the other hand, addressed it so specifics from US infrastructure, to energy, from education to health. However, he did not really hit the target well.

2) Change and Reform - I mentioned in my previous blog that Obama, being an innovator, has been vocally preaching a radical change in the US politics and economy. However, I haven't seen that from last night's debate. Despite his strong allegation that McCain would just be adopting the current president's agenda, he did not really prove any revolutionary changes,henceforth, saw his possible changes still not so different from the status quo. Remember what anthropologist Ruth Benedict wrote in her book, Patterns of Culture (1934,1959:24), which I quoted in my past blog? "...From the point of view of an outsider the most radical innovations in any culture amount to no more than a minor revision, and it is a commonplace that prophets have been put death for the difference between Tweedledum and Tweedledee."

3) Tactic and Strategy - I don't question Sen Obama's linguistics acumen. Of course, he knows the difference between tactic and strategy. Nevertheless, when talking about international relations and conflict, he did not address them well enough to show his ability in dealing with the issues. Sen. McCain's response was so deep, even mentioning the Battle of Normandy (and explained and connected it very well to today's problems). Very well done!

I just hope that McCain would not listen to the poll and focus groups results. Rather, McCain has to take it as a challenge to give better his already very good performance in yesterday's debate. I don't want to see the repeat of the presidential elections of 1980, where Carter conceded early to Ronald Reagan, when some people in the West Coast were still at work and had not have a chance to vote. Carter's early concession was affected by the Nov. 4 survey by a major TV networks who showed that Reagan was ahead of him in a landslide vote and projected Reagan's win.

And for Sen. Obama? I would like to hear him in the next debate to be more in-depth to effectively prove his platform.

This 2008 presidential election is a close fight, my friends. Let us tighten our seat belts. Let's watch the final result in November.

ON PUBLISHING #2: Copyright & Other Rights

2008-09-24T00:27:00.000-07:00

My book contract for my manuscript, PRAISING ALL SEASONS LONG: Haiku Verses, was sent through UPS the other day. I went through the 7 pages thoroughly before I signed them. Then, with too much excitement, I shared the news with my online friends. Many congratulated me, from Namibia to the Philippines. Any friend from Down-Under? Hello, do I still have friends down there? (LOL) Some already told me that they are going to get their copies. (G.C., a history teacher-friend in Italy promised to get his copy even before I pitched the work to the publisher). Some told me that they'd mention the upcoming book to their friends. To all of you, thank you.

Anyway, B.K., a friend in U.K. asked me yesterday what I mean by exclusive right. She feels that it is unfair for the publisher to have total right to somebody else's work. One proviso of the book contract is a 7-year exclusive right to the publisher. So allow me to write something about copyright and rights.

A writer publishes his/her work, may it be a book or article, for the consumption of the public. While the work is in circulation, there is a tendency that somebody can plagiarize it(i.e. copy or publish it in his/her name). Copyright protects the writer for such suckers.

Technically, copyright is secured automatically when the work is set down for the first time in written form.(How to Write & Sell Your Life Experiences: 1993.148). The writer doesn't have to register it to a copyright office. However, by registering your copyright, you can bring suit against someone for infringing your copyright. In the USofA registering a copyright will allow the writer to recover attorney's fees and some damages from the defendant. (The Writer's Essential Desk Reference: 1991.38).

Further, there are other rights that a writer has to consider once his/her work is being negotiated for publication. These are what we call "All or exclusive right", First Right, Secondary Right, One-Time Right, and Subsidiary Right.

The signed contract to my manuscript, "PRAISING ALL SEASONS LONG: Haiku Verses", has a proviso for a 7-year exclusive contract. This means that the publisher have the ownership of my manuscript. I have to wait until the 7-year "all right" expires before I can sell or reproduce the manuscript again to another publisher. Again, one advantage to an "All Right" is that the writer does not have to spend (except time to proof-read galleys, etc.) any money from printing to marketing. Transaction of "All Rights" must be completed with a signing of written statement (contract). Without a written contract, the author only gives "One-Time Right" to the publisher, which is much like "First Right".

Wonder why you see some articles appear in several magazines? The reason is that the author has the First Right to his/her work. First Right means that the writer has the freedom to sell reprint or "second" right the work to another publisher, even before the work is published. Turning in or publishing the writer's article to a magazine publisher usually have this arrangement. It doesn't need any signed contract. The publisher notifies the writer and the readers by including the statement in all copies of the magazine.

Subsidiary Right usually is included as another proviso in a written contract. And, according to a Denver lawyer, David Weinstein, (Writer's Essential: 34) this is one of the most common book contract problems. An author has to pay attention to such proviso. Subsidiary right means the publisher has been given the right to make transaction for other income-generating businesses with another company with the intent to produce the work in another medium, such as movie, audio, etc. Some unscrupulous publisher would not spell this out in the contract. I am just thankful that the contract that I have with Comfort Publishing (CP) has a proviso that assures me that should a compensation received by CP for publication of extraction or for serial use, audio recordings,etc., it would be divided equally between the author and the publisher.

Again, thank you very much. I am counting for your all-out support in this literary odyssey.

NOTE: My book, KOILAWAN (KOI-lah-ONE), is still available in 21 countries. Also, watch for my other book, THE EXPERIMENTAL DASANG (Hey Poem) and 45 OTHER POETRY FORMS:An Anthology.

On Book Publishing

2008-09-20T08:14:00.000-07:00

I'm deeply humbled by APinoy of U.K. when he told me, in my Great Pinoy profile page, that he is sending over his personal copy of my book, KOILAWAN: Letter and Poems of a Jungle Dad-Mom, for my signature. Then, another request from a Kababayan (a fellow Filipino), was posted seeking advice on how to go about publishing. Such requests make me feel a successful writer; hence, I thank you all for that.

Thursday, Sept. 18, was a big day for me. Comfort Publishing emailed me that it has officially accepted my manuscript, PRAISING ALL SEASONS LONG: Haiku Verses, for publication. This will be published as an illustrated gift book. Please join me in thanking God, and hope you will continue to support me in this endeavor.

Now, let me address the request on publishing. KOILAWAN was my first published book. I have no book published in the Philippines. The only publications I have in our country were social research articles published in academic journals, such as the Philippine Journal of Society and Culture of University of San Carlos. I also have some magazine articles which were published by AGLOW Magazine. I have no book publication credentials, while I was down there. Therefore, allow me to blog something on publishing based on my experience here in the U.S.

Nowadays, there are several avenues to publish a book.

1) Traditional Publishing- We all know this one. It is publishing a work upon the invitation or decision of a book company, who, after promoting or pitching the manuscript to them, decided to publish it. Pitching could be either done by you or your hired literary agent. For aspiring writers, this is very hard to come by. Publishers, being profit-oriented companies, usually offer this to writers, who already got a name and hundreds of thousand fans.

2) Self-Publishing- This is an avenue for a writer, who has the money to spend, time to promote and market, and room (in your house) to stock copies of your book. One advantage is that you don't want to convince anybody but yourself that your book should be published and you can have a total control of the publishing process (even the procurement of ISBN, the International Standard Book Number) and marketing (even the book price). If you feel that there's a demand or are able to create a demand for the book, this avenue is the way to go.

3) Vanity or Subsidy Publishing- Some consider these as two separate things; however, they actually are just synonymous to each other. Again, money, time, and space are needed here. The writer has to pay to be published, time to spend in marketing, and space to stock the books. It differs from self-publishing, because the book company simply applies its ISBN to the writer's book. The author also receives a few copies of the book and is promised, which usually doesn't come true, royalties on those copies that might be sold by the subsidy press. Many vanity presses also require the writer to purchase, at least, a minimum number of copies as part of the contract. I don't recommend this to anybody. It's purely enriching the publisher, plain and simple.

4) Publish-on-Demand (POD)- In POD, the book is digitally set up and is only printed every time there are orders. This is the reason why, in contrast to vanity publishing, POD publishers do not require, but encourage, the writer to buy copies of the books. Some offer the writer 60% off the book selling price. But again, the author have to pay the publisher from $400-$2000, depending on the book printing quality and the package. Book inclusion in the company's book catalog, printing of posters or bookmarks to promote your book are some items that could be included in a package.

5) E-publish or Audio Publish - E-publish means your book is only available in the internet. People pay to listen to it. It started in the mid-90s, however, it seemed to fade, not until recently, when college students have started using the internet for their research. The problem, though, is that students cannot afford to subscribe to a book, which is not either their textbook or a one of the required readings of a course. This also is not the way to go in publishing, because very few readers would spend many hours in the internet to read a whole book.

In audio, you manuscript is in CD-format. You buy it just like your DVD or CD music.

My book, KOILAWAN, is a POD book. It is my first book. No marketable name yet, so the best way is to POD. I have to start somewhere. Before I decided to go POD, I pitched the book to a literary agent in New York. It was accepted, however, upon knowing that it would take many months, even years, to see it published, if ever the agent would be successful in pitching it to a publisher, I decided to go the POD way. As I mentioned in my social networking page, the book was included in the TOP 100 bestsellers in some online book outlets for several weeks.

My second book, The Experimental Dasang (Hey Poem)and 45 Other Poetry Forms: An Anthology, which would be in the market, hopefully, sometime in December, is also a POD book. Yes, I still have to shell out some "old presidents"(dollars)to the publisher.

This third book, Praising All Seasons Long: Haiku Verses, will be published without any expenses on my part. My royalty would be somewhere between 8% to 12% of the sale. Well, I actually still awaiting for the contract. If I am satisfied whatever is in the contract, then, I could sign it and Comfort Publishing(CP) would begin the printing process. CP will design the book cover and look for pictures to illustrate some of the verses.

I currently am pitching my other book project, Bedtime-Pastime: Collections of Short Stories and Bukidnon Folktales, to literary agents and book publishers. Hopefully, this also would be printed as a traditional book. Bedtime... is co-authored by Dr. Genoveva Melendez-Ablanque of Bukidnon State University. You could read the list of content and a few of the short stories and a folktale on Webook.com.

I also was one of the 20 Christian writers, who were invited to contribute 2 articles in a Webook book project, XPRESSION: On Saving Grace. My article and my blank poetry, "What Now...? Am a Polygamist?" and "A Love to Surrender", respectively, are still in first draft. To meet the deadline that I promised to our project leader, I also have posted them on Webook.com. They can be read-for-feedback. Please go and check them out. You'd know that most of my first draft need lots of polishing to do. This would give you an idea that writing is a challenging job.

NOTE: If someone would like me to address other issues on publishing through my blog, send me a message in my social network page or email me, edMindustan@gmail.com.

PROFITEERING IS TO BE BLAMED

2008-09-17T10:54:00.000-07:00

Low-quality gadgets, Lead tainted children's toys, forced evacuation of ordinary citizens from their modest shelters for the sake of the Olympics, lavish spending to showcase wealth and progress, and today, I read in the Los Angeles Times (Sept. 17)that a tainted baby formula is now growing into a national crisis in China. The number of illnesses related to baby formula has been up to 6,244; three have died. The baby products from 22 companies have been tested positive of contamination with the industrial chemical melamine.

National crisis? Make that an international crisis soon, if other countries would not go strict on China! Everyone knows that food products, just like any other Chinese product, has been exported worldwide. And people from other countries have been buying them, because they have been sold cheaper than any other goods. Thank goodness, this latest scandal has sparked anger amongst Chinese.

Nevertheless, I still am a little worried. China is a communist ( well, make that as a socialist) country. (Technically, communism differs from socialism on the manner of bringing about the abolition of capitalism and all private profit. Communism does it by means of conflict and violent revolution, if necessary, and literally following Karl Marx and Friedrich Engel's "Manifest der Kommunistischen Partei". Socialism is one in which workers, albeit free from capitalist exploitation, receive the full product of their labor, but,of course, with the state control.) Maybe too much progress in a very short time incapacitate the Chinese government to rein strictly on his people, who are now highly knowledgeable on capitalism and also wanted to make huge profit and get rich for a short time.

China is developing its economy so fast. Look, it is a superpower. In order to achieve and superimpose such status to the world, it has to develop and showcase it fast. And the effect of development? Profit! As the Austro-Hungarian born US economist said, "Without development there is no profit, without profit no development..." (The Theory of Eco. Development, 1934:154).

The problem with a quick-rich mentality is that an economic man has the tendency to use a poor quality material in production so as to double or triple his profit. And, this doesn't only holds true to the Chinese people. It is a global trait of economic (greedy) and egoistic people. When I was still in the Philippines, I know some friends, who sold ice pop ( locally known as ice candy) by simply mixing food coloring and sugar to gallons of water just to make more profit. When I was in Pakistan, I was duped to pay exorbitantly for a "high-quality" shirt that faded right in my eyes during a wash. When I was in Kenya, I was forced to shell out wads of money for a "21-carat gold ring" just to realize later that it was only a 14-carat ring. When I was in China (more than a decade ago) I was forced to take all my unspent tourist yuan (yes, tourist are issued the tourist money not the renmimbi, the people's currency), which was not acceptable for economic exchange in Hongkong, because, with long line of tourists, there were no enough money-exchange windows at the departure area.

Certainly, profiteering is to be blamed. I just hope that the Chinese government (and the investors in the capitalist society) would start serving the ordinary people fairly.

ON HURRICANE IKE

2008-09-13T09:23:00.000-07:00

Watching the weather forecast, when hurricane Ike was still battering the island of Cuba, I could see that the city of Port Arthur, Texas would be hard hit. And true enough, this Saturday morning, Channel 4 and the News and Weather Channel mentioned Sabine Pass and Port Arthur, the city very close to my heart.

Port Arthur was where I first taught in the early 90s. It’s a small refinery city in southeast Texas and a major deepwater port on Sabine Lake, near Lousiana. In 1901, oil was discovered in Spindletop and its population boomed to 58,724. However, oil supply underground tailed off, thousands of refinery workers were laid off, and, when I was teaching at W. Wilson Middle School, the population was just a little over 20,000 and downtown was literally a ghost town. But I learned to love the place and its people, even the strong foul fumes of the refinery. I miss those huge flames billowing in refineries day and night.

Now, I wonder what havoc hurricane Ike has brought to Port Arthur and its neighboring cities, like Port Neches and Nederland. I wonder what happened to W. Wilson Middle School and the extension campus of the University of Beaumont, which are located right by the wall of Sabine Pass. I wonder what happened to the beautiful Pleasure Island. I am deeply worried, especially that I still have lots of friends down there. I hope that everyone evacuated early. I hope that the casualties and damages, that I would hear later, would just be the properties that were left behind.

NOTE: Picture of me and my two kids was taken in 1994, right by the wall of Sabine Pass, just a little off W. Wilson Middle School. The background is Pleasure Island.

OBAMA vs. McCAIN: Who's Got Sound Judgment?

2008-09-10T11:00:00.000-07:00

In my past blog, I mentioned that Democratic Presidential candidate Barack Obama should select Sen. Hillary Clinton as his vice-president to make his candidacy strongly supported by all Democrats. However, his ambition to etch a name in the American political history on his own effort, completely separating from any high-ranked official, in the like of former President William Jefferson Clinton, he unfortunately chose Sen. Biden. Now, he is scrambling for defense against his Republican rival John McCain, especially in the issue of sound judgment.

This is how I see the changing polling showdown where Sen. McCain now is slightly ahead of Sen. Obama. Just as many other countries, the good old USofA considers its president as the highest ranking government official. To tell the nation that Obama is choosing Biden for a vice president, because he has more experienced, particularly in foreign relations, has created a negative effect on Obama’s sound judgment. Rather than helping boost his candidacy, he not only turned away the millions of democrats, who cried for him to chose their “political idol” and the “voice of the women”, Sen. Clinton, but he also has told the nation that he is selecting the top-gun on foreign relation, because that is one of his inadequacy and the problem America is facing today. So, inadvertently history is repeating itself this early.

Remember what has happened to the outgoing president? One reason why he chose Richard Chenney was because he also was a top-gun in national security and defense. He has more experienced in national and international politics than the governor turned president. Result? People looked at his decision making lame, heavily dictated by those top-guns around him. People lost confidence; popularity went tumbling down.

Should Sen. Obama had chosen Sen. Hillary Clinton, the decision could have catapulted his candidacy, because he could have said that they have fought tooth and nail all the way to the end during the primaries, it is just fair and unifying for her to be the vice president. Such statement could have placed him at equal footing with his vice president; it couldn’t have placed his ability in foreign relation in question.

Look at the case of Sen. John McCain! He is very wise to select a woman, hoping to tap many of those Clinton supporters and undecided voters to his side. He is very wise to select a not-so-well-known governor to showcase his ability to lead and experience in both national and international issues. Unlike Biden, Governor Palin is an active and experienced cheerleader, who can never out-shadow Sen. McCain’s political prowess. McCain, if ever he’d get elected, would be the commander-in-chief; she would just be a captain of a company, ready and willing to serve anytime, and… a “football mom” (whatever that is).

To contrast his platform of change against McCain’s, Sen. Obama jokingly said in Lebanon, Virginia the other day, “You can put lipstick on a pig, but it’s still a pig. You can wrap an old fish in a piece of paper called change, but it still going to stink.”

Nevertheless, what kind of change does not stink in the long-run? Many programs smelled so good when they were implemented, however, with the social, economic, and cultural changes going as fast as a “bullet train”, they soon stink over time. No matter how you identify yourself as an innovator and a radical change agent, you cannot have a change evolve from nothing. As Ruth Benedict’s in her book, Pattern of Culture (1934; 1959:84) wrote, “…men are never inventive enough to make more than minute change. From the point of view of an outsider, the most radical innovation (change) in any culture amount to no more than a minor revision, and it is a common place that prophets have been put to death for the difference between Tweedledum and Tweedledee.”

ON DEPRESSION and SUICIDE

2008-09-06T11:43:00.000-07:00

Suicide rate in some countries are on the rise that it causes a real concern to many people. BBC News reported on Sept. 4th that an average of about 195 people take their lives in Northern Ireland, while 4,500 are hospitalized after attempting suicide. Further, it also reported on February 20th that the same thing is happening in South Korea. Suicide cases have doubled in about 5 years. In fact, VOA News on Aug. 21st reported that suicide is the fourth leading causes of death in that country.

According to French sociologist Emile Durkheim, one of the pioneers of modern sociology, suicide can either be egoistic, altruistic, or anomic. Egoistic suicide happens because a person feels that he/she is inadequate to respond to the norms of his/her society. Altruistic is opposite to egoistic suicide in that the structure of society is over-indulging an individual to its custom and habit to the point of even expecting the individual to commit suicide. Anomic suicide exists because the individual feels that society has a lack of regulation with what he/she is experiencing. Such is the case of committing suicide soon after winning the lottery or when a divorce case gone wrong. (Suicide: 1897; 1951)

Why is there a rise of suicide rate? Besides, the human bomb, which is commonly used by terrorists and obviously a case of altruistic suicide, the increasing number of people committing suicide is due to the following: they are slow to adapt change, particularly those who already have mental health issues along with those experiencing depression. Teenagers are encountering emotional and physical crises associated with body changes and their desire for independence. Older people have issues on social isolation and bereavement. The South Koreans are specifically blaming the cause on the economic downturn and rapid social change.

So what could we, as social institution or members of society, do to offset the problem?

Protect Life (Health) committee in Northern Ireland believes that closer cooperation within government departments will prevent suicide and self-harm. Involving churches, local authority and sports groups in the delivery of the strategy will be significant.

South Korean government considered stepping up in establishing more counseling centers, removal of internet sites that might encourage suicide, and putting up high fences on bridges and tall buildings and making farm chemicals less toxic have been applied, too.

Dr. Hicks, on BBC health news, commented that people have to get the person to talk about their feeling, their reason why they want to die, and just to listen, because a person considering suicide needs support, understanding, and to let them know that there’s professional help available for them.

I agree in all the strategies mentioned above; however, I cannot help but think about those people, who feel that they know all that nobody could talk to them about anything or members of societies who are timid. Yes, there are, what we call, “shame society” that talking to somebody, especially those who are not included in the person’s circle of friends, and is unlikely to happen. What could we do about them?

I just hope these people are like me.

Recently, I experienced depression. The sweet taste of my first published book, KOILAWAN…, when it was posted online by Amazon.com, Borders.com, and Amazon.de (Germany) to be one of their Top 100 best sellers in inspirational books, missions, and most requested English books, respectively, for many weeks, turned bitter when I got the report from the publisher. My feelings of success turned into disbelief and distrust. Make that worse! The publisher advertised itself as the best CHRISTIAN publisher, so imagine me spiritually in turmoil, completely disgusted with those who uses Christianity to prey on others. For a couple of weeks, I cannot do anything: loss of appetite, loss of mental and physical motivation to continue with my writing and do some running. I was devastated that even my wife’s consoling words were welcomed with complete silence. And you know what brought me back? It was not those people around me and who loved me. I was a complete brick wall. Not even my wife can reach me. I even wanted her to just stop talking for once. Nevertheless, as I lay all alone, my inner self dealt with me, leading me to address the emotional battle with what I have left, whom I cannot drive away from my presence, because it is intangible, down right in my core: my faith in God. It was only God that brought me back. I started to get spiritual healing by pouring my mind into Him, and ultimately, expressing the feeling of God’s love into praises. I began writing 3-line, 17-syllable haiku verses. God guided me all the way, thinking how God was good to me all seasons long, and how He made me wonderful and special. I overcome my depression after I wrote more than a hundred haiku verses, which I now have posted, in its entirety entitled, PRAISING ALL SEASONS LONG: Haiku Verses, on Webook.com.

And this is what I could tell every society out there, who, many of them have or tend to turn their back away from spirituality. Those societies, who believe that every problem in this world can be solved through science, and spirituality have no place in the educational system and progress are outright wrong. Take that from me: A living example.

On Philippine Food and Kababayan L.A.

2008-09-03T01:38:00.000-07:00

With an advanced education in sociology and anthropology, I commend Channel 18’s Kababayan LA, the only live Filipino TV program in California, for talking about the issues on ethnicity, particularly on the identity as perceived by three young Filipino-American guests, who are offspring of interracial couples. Unfortunately, I also have to spurn the statement of the host that the Filipino food is not healthy.

Excuse me? That’s an ostensible label of negative stereotype and outright over-generalization; henceforth, prejudicial. To hear such comment from a host of a TV program that’s supposed to promote the Filipino culture & identity to the young ones and to the world is tantamount to discouraging the public to experience the Filipino culture.
How the public would think of the Filipino food when they hear such comment? Certainly, they would turn their back away from Filipino dishes. To use US journalist Walter Lippman statement on Public Opinion (1965), the public have now been told about the food (world) before they see it. They now imagine more things before they experience them. And those preconceptions, unless education has made them acutely aware, govern deeply the whole process of perception.

Food is part of every society’s culture. Since no culture is perfect (that’s why it is dynamic, adaptive, and integrative); ergo food in every society is not perfectly healthy. Chinese dishes aren’t; Italian dishes aren’t; French dishes aren’t; and so as the Filipino food. Every society has healthy friendly food, as well as scary ones.

Definitely, some Filipino food is not beneficial to the heart or even to the women’s body figure. However, what about salabat (gingered tea) for a beverage? It has 0 calorie. What about a quarter cup of atsara (papaya pickles) or a piece of lumpyang sariwa (fresh egg roll) with 2 tbs. of brown sauce as appetizers? They only have 45 and 180 calories, respectively. What about half a cup of bulanglang (sautéed vegetables)? It only has 75 calories. What about a 2 oz. beef cubes (not goat) with half a cup vegetables calderetta? It only has 17 calories, and a 3 oz. of lean pork and a cup of vegetables in sinigang na baboy (stewed pork in acid medium) only has 190 calories. And for dessert! Well, a piece of puto or palitaw only has 85 and 80 calories, respectively.

Filipinos have lots of healthy friendly food, which they can be proud of. Nevertheless, we have to be reminded, so as those members of other societies, to abstain from gluttony and eat moderately.

I am a regular viewer of Kababayan LA. I hope that this would be my last time to hear negative comment from the program. If ever the host could say something not palatable about the Filipino culture, she should, at least, explain it why and offset it by mentioning the better side of it. I am proud to be a Filipino. I hope Kababayan LA is, too.

(Note: The nutritional analysis of all dishes were taken from the Filipino-American Cookbook for Calorie-Controlled Diets, published in 1993 by the Filipino-American Dietetics Association.)

Olympic Trickles

2008-08-30T10:28:00.000-07:00

Enough already! That's what I told myself on Thursday, while considering what to blog next. However, I felt like jumping off the diving platform without hitting the water by doing so. Thank goodness! BBC online news yesterday reported that Zimbabwe President Mugabe rewarded Olympic gold medalist Kirsty Coventry US$ 100,000.00 for a job well-done at the Beijing Olympics.

"Kidding me!" I said to myself as my jaw dropped. Here's a country, which has a widespread shortage of food and fuel, its inflation is currently at 11,000,000% that one has to bring "wads and pads of paper bills" and joining a long line just to buy a loaf of bread, yet it can afford to reward an Olympian, who now lives in glory in the old-glory of USofA (pun intended). The BBC report took me back to my question: Is Olympics an individual or a state (publicity) competition?

Mugabe's action surely answered it. Certainly, Kirsty Coventry brought honor to the country. She's the only Olympian who won all, but a couple, for Zimbabwe. Of course, she is worthy of her labor and hard work, no question about that. Nevertheless, I cannot understand how a president can afford to reward (in US dollar) an Olympian in the midst of a serious economic crises. If the Olympic Games is an individual or a team competition, every country should not be giving away thousands or millions of money as an incentive for its athletes to excel. I probably would admire President Mugabe (and not consider the reward a show-off), if the amount was a little less, but with a huge Zimbabwe law (call it Coventry Law)that IN HONOR OF KIRSTY COVENTRY'S OLYMPIC TRIUMPHS, HE AND HIS CRONIES WILL RETURN ALL THE WHITE-OWNED FARMS THAT THEY REPOSSESSED FOR THE LAST TEN YEARS. After all, Kirsty is Caucasian.

I know. I know. Zimbabwe is not the only country that glorifies victorious Olympians. Hey, I heard my own country, The Philippines, which is also experiencing economic crises (oh well, which country isn't. Even the old USofA is), promised to give 3,000,000.00 Philippine pesos for a Filipino gold medalist in Beijing. Unfortunately, there wasn't any, except in a "washu", which was just an exhibition game.

So now, those Kenyans and Bulgarians, who competed for Quatar and other countries even though they cannot speak the host's language and understand the culture, are also now out of the question. I still am pinching myself (for me to believe) that the IOC find such action legitimate, because it adheres to the Olympic charter that the Games is an individual and team competition. There, you have it. Clear as mud! Make my mind spin 360 to understand the politics in the Olympic Games!

Peace! Unity! Understanding! Oh, well, let's just keep the 5 continents together and expect the best for the Winter Olympics.

The Toilet Problem

2008-08-27T03:21:00.000-07:00

Winding up my blog on the Olympics was suppose to be my topic this mid-week; however, the report on the toilet problem, which I read on Weekend Balita (Aug. 23-26 issue)caught my attention.

The Associated Foreign Press report on the toilet problem was from the World Water Week forum, which was participated by 2,500 sanitation experts, recently held in Stockholm, Sweden.

Checking the internet on the issue, I also found the following: 1) It was reported by World Health Organization that nearly two million people die every year from diseased related to bad sanitation and 2.6 billion people around the world do not have access to proper restroom. 2) The United Nation launched The International Year of Sanitation 2008, in November of last year, primarily to bring international attention to this problem. 3) In response, the World Toilet Association (hmmm... didn't know before that such association exists) has been working towards providing toilet facilities particularly in developing countries. (CNN.com)

Despite humanitarian endeavor to solve this problem, the recently held conference in Stockholm reported that there is still an estimated 1.2 billion people, primarily in Asia and Africa, still do not use toilets (even if it is available) to defecate. The paper further said that the best method to make this effort a success has been to shame people.

Even though shaming may be the best method to encourage the use of toilets in India or Bangladesh, this must be used with extra caution when applying it globally. The culture of some people groups around the world might not welcome such strategy, that toilet advocates might be endangered. I just wanted to voice my concern, because some selfless and determined outsiders, may they be change agents or technocrats, might apply this strategy without considering the culture of the target population. There were many introduced change that were considered beneficial to the target population, but did not succeed just because the change agents failed (or ignored)to study the web of culture and the environment.

(Several years ago, I was invited to visit the Masahua Indian Development Program in Mexico by its executive director, my co-fellow at Haggai Institute in Singapore. I was happy to see that almost all programs were beneficial to the community, until I heard about this one project. Glass Etching. What on earth happened here? Many Masahua Indians live in small houses made of mud bricks that I can barely see the point of giving them the skill in glass etching! Anyway glass etching was no "biggie" than the state-sponsored swine program in the past, which was a complete failure.)

I see the need to aggressively advocate the use of toilet. Nevertheless, before a change agent introduces it, he or she must consider the culture and the environment. So many economic resources, many of these were money loaned from World Bank, have been wasted already.

I never will forget my time with the Ata Manobo in southern Philippines. I was a young, very ambitious and mission-minded change agent then. I was successful in advocating almost all the planned changes, but was minimally successful in toilet advocacy. Don't get me wrong. I practiced very good toilet training (LOL). Seriously, I was very good, if not excellent, role model. Unlike the villagers, I shunned using the open field or the river to defecate. I have my outhouse.

Shaming an Ata Manobo as a strategy would never work, because to shame somebody, in their culture, is tantamount to killing somebody. One cannot even laugh, while looking at an Ata Manobo passerby, because it always is taken seriously as an action done to shame him/her. Shame oftentimes triggers raiding and murder. Hence, a change agent cannot apply a "shame strategy" with them.

I tried my best to incorporate health and sanitation in the literacy and health programs, however, to encourage them to use an outhouse was difficult to hurdle.

Pit latrine was accepted lightly, because digging a two-meter pit in the village will turn into a water well. The water in the pit latrine became a breeding ground of the malarious anopheles mosquitoes. Further, the villagers cannot stand getting wet by the splashing of water while using the pit latrine. Furthermore, they cannot stand the stink, which they believe made them sicker.

The best solution to counteract the village refusal to use toilets was to encourage digging a shallow hole every time they defecate in the field. This was acceptable.

I just hope toilet advocates would try to find specific strategy to combat intestinal diseases based on the culture and environment, rather than resorting outright to shaming the target population. In short, don't consider that what is good for the gander is also good for the goose. So, just be careful out there. Good luck.

(NOTE: You can read more of my change advocacy among the Ata Manobo in my book, KOILAWAN: Letters and Poems of a Jungle Dad-Mom, now available in many online book outlets in 21 countries.)

The Gymnastic Controversy

2008-08-23T00:30:00.000-07:00

Yesterday, the first paragraph of the Los Angeles Times headline reads: The International Olympics Committee(IOC) asked the International Gymnastics Federation (IGF) to reexamine whether gold-medal-winning gymnasts He Kexin and two of her teammates were too young to compete in the Beijing Games.

Certainly, this controversy will not just die without all stones unturned. I commend IOC for trying to protect the integrity of the Olympics by acting to thoroughly investigate the issue.

I would like to see IGF to go beyond passport and birth certificates. Why? I tell you why. Passport and birth certificate can be fabricated easily, especially if the nation would like to showcase its power for all the world to see. IGF must muster the help of other professionals, like auxologists and pedagogues, to check possibly on the development of jawbone and the academic knowledge of these gymnasts, respectively. Development of jawbone helps check the growth of permanent teeth, as education level, more or less, to the age of an individual.

California Prisoners: Mr. Kelso's VIPs?

2008-08-20T00:15:00.000-07:00

So, I blogged about the incarcerated men in the USofA on June 25. Big time! I thought of not writing another one on the topic, but I am appalled with the news (Pasadena Star News, Aug. 14) that Clark Kelso, the Federal Court Overseer, asked a judge to seize $8 billion from California treasury to improve the medical care at state's prisons. To make it more shocking, Mr. Kelso also asked the court to hold Gov. Arnold Schwarzenegger and the state comptroller in contempt of court if they don't allocate the money soon.

California is cash-strapped. In fact, couple of weeks ago, hundreds of state employees were in Sacramento, the state capital, to protest against the plan of the governor to lower their salaries to minimum wage rate, because there's very little money to disburse.

What is Mr. Kelso thinking? While the law-abiding constituents are having problem getting medical emergency care (with closures of many E.Rs, most have to travel many miles and wait for at least 4 hours, before they could be seen by E.R. doctors), having problem refilling their prescribed medication (many have to even cross the border to get cheaper refills), having problem convincing the state not to cut more on the educational budget and not to lower their salaries to minimum wage, he has the nerve to ask a judge for such drastic and preposterous action.

Certainly, those people at the pen needs medical care, but they should not be treated special. They are at the pen to be punished. They are there to be deterred from committing more crimes. They are there to be incapacitated. They are there to be rehabilitated. To give them best services is incongruous to these four objectives of the criminal justice system. Why not just provide them their basic needs and use that $8 billion to Californians, who are outside the pen? Thousands of law-abiding citizens can barely make both ends meet. Consequently, more and more of those outside the pen are now resorting to OTC (over-the-counter) medication, just taking analgesics for undiagnosed pain, because they are uninsured and cannot stand the travel to and long wait in emergency rooms.

Mr. Kelso should have asked the court to seize that money for the sake of Californians, who are outside the state prison. They are the ones who really need help so that they can continue paying taxes to keep felons off the street. Yes, felons in these 33 state prisons have constitutional rights for better medical services; however, the law-abiding citizens have more rights to be served better.

Hurrah & Duh!: Beijing Olympics

2008-08-16T01:47:00.000-07:00

So, I was wrong. Still have not seen athletes fainting. Have not seen lots of masks, either. Well, the rain, natural or artificial, helped lower the air pollution.

But, told you; there's lots of celebration and controversy at the Beijing Olympics. Hurrah for Michael Phelps. He's won his seventh gold in swimming, equaling the medal of fellow American swimmer, Mark Spitz. Let us wait later today if he could win gold in his last relay event. If he could, he'd be the most decorated Olympian. In fact, Mark Spitz said when interviewed by NBC an hour after Michael won his seventh gold, "...An EPIC!", which may mean he's the greatest.

Some celebration, though, have been clouded with controversy. Some skeleton in the closet are coming out now.

Spectacular pageantry during the opening ceremony? The gold medalist in the women's(or girl's) team competition? Duh! It's like lead in children's toys.

It now has been known that the voice of that little girl, who sang at the opening ceremony, was by another girl. She was replaced because her face was not as pretty as her voice. Those kids. who wore ethnic costumes, were not a bona fide members of the ethnic groups that they represented. Hence, many are questioning what's behind all these pompous display of wealth, artistry, and athleticism.

So, the suspicion trickled to the gymnasts. One rule in Olympic gymnastics is that the athletes must be at least 16 years old on or before the game. Unfortunately, those innocent faces of some of the women (or girls) who showed powerful tumblings, and extraordinary courage and balance made many question the veracity of their ages. Being Asian, I don't believe that all of the gymnasts are 16-year olds. As I watched them, my mind kept on bringing me back to my high school years. I haven't seen Filipino Chinese in high school as young as those gymnasts. (There were two that I really was suspecting.) Finally, somebody leaked the bad news. One of those gymnasts is just 14 years old. Duh!

So, what do you do now, Mr. and Ms. IOC (International Olympic Committee)? Don't you plan to strip off the gold medal from them? The Little League Baseball World Series organization strip off the championship medal of the Philippine Little League Baseball team in 1992 for not following the age requirement and abode of those young boys (or men). Why can't you?

Anyways, this Beijing Olympics is just not halfway over yet. Expect more controversy, because lying is pretty normal to human beings. US sociobiologist, Edward Wilson (1975) stressed that "...true spite is a common place in human societies, undoubtedly because human beings are keenly aware of their own blood lines and have the intelligence to plot intrigue. Human being are unique in the degree of their capacity to lie to other members of their own species."

WAR: Ugly!

2008-08-13T01:00:00.000-07:00

Lots of good and controversial stuff to talk about the Olympics; almost all ears are concentrated in China. However, allow me to skip China for this mid-week blog. Let me talk about the problem going on between Georgia and Russia, because one of my Russian friends asked me to join an online group about stopping genocide in Georgia.

An attempt to annihilate a people group in the planet is despicable. No one has the right to curtail the existence of anybody.

While I have been following the news, I got interested to know how the affected population look at the conflict.

Here are some words I gathered on BBC Online News (Aug. 13):

For many Russians, they were alleging that Georgians are trying to wipe out the Ossetians. Dmitry Petrov, an architectural administrator said, "The Georgian military has used...Grad mortar rockets...to destroy the city of Tskhinval and some Ossetian villages where there were many civilians."

For Georgians, they were blaming Russia and the Ossetian separatist for the conflict. Mikheil Sukhitashvili of Tbilisi, after realizing that the Russians are bombong outside South Ossetian said, "...We are just a small country and Russia is a superpower. Why are they bombin so far outside South Ossetia?...We(Georgian) do not have anything against the ordinary Ossetians. There are many of them in the capital...and they live peacefully with Georgians."

For Ossetians, they were glad that the Russians are helping them push the Georgian military away from their land. An Ossetian English professor said, "...We (Georgians and Ossetians) are a very different people." And they are hoping that Russia will continue to protect them.

Culling statements from all the people directly affected by the conflict tell us that Ossetians wants to have independence from Georgia (because they are different from them). Oftentimes, a conflict happens upon the initiation of a group dissatisfied of a status quo; hence, the group wants change. Since the news also said that most Ossetians are holding Russian passports (and not Georgian's), it could be interpreted again that they are not happy how the Georgian government is treating them. It therefore could be true that the Ossetian separatist asked the help of the Russians.

The problem with the action of the Russians is that it failed to respect the sovereignty of Georgia. Russia should have acted as a mediator between the Ossetian separatists and Georgian government, and not as an invader. Now, like any others, I believe Russian is more to be blamed for the escalating conflict. I just hope that the 5-Point Peace Plan that the Russian and the Georgian have agreed upon will be carried out by both government, because war to me is ugly, pure and simple.

THE UGLINESS OF WAR
(A Tercet)

The booming of heavy mortars
And the popping of bullets
Made everybody jumped over bars.

Running away from the hamlets
Scampering from obvious harm
From arms that left walls with pellets.

Bullets peppered mud walls in swarm
See e’en traces of shrapnel’s
Some when touched are still awfully warm.

Holes are even in tin barrels
Feel them, they are like Braille.
They’re so ugly like walnut kernels.

On paper, they look like a trail.
When read, it surely tells us:
War is ugly; it must not prevail.

Edmund Melig Industan (c) 2007

Note: Tercet or Terzet is a rhyming 3-line poetry form where the first and the third lines of the first stanza rhymes, the second line rhymes with the first and the third lines of the second stanza. The Ugliness of War is included in my upcoming book, 100 + 1 Poems on THE EXPERIMENTAL DASANG (Hey Poems)and 45 OTHER POETRY FORMS: An Anthology.

Olympic Games: Competition between Countries or Not?

2008-08-09T00:38:00.000-07:00

I told you in my last blog; the Opening Ceremony of the Beijing Olympic will be SPECTACULAR! Millions of fireworks soaring high around the city and magnificent pageantry of technology until the very end. I forgot that I have been avoiding into buying products that are made in China, because I found them to easily break. Definitely, the opening ceremony was the BEST of all Olympic ceremonies that I watched.

During the ceremony, I thought about the goal of having an Olympic Games. Is it a competition between athletes or countries?

Chapter 1, Article 6 of the Olympic Charter states, 'the Olympic Games are competition between athletes or team team events and not between countries.' The statement doesn't hold up to what I have been seeing during the games. Why? I tell you why.

1. Medal standing are tallied by countries
2. The country's National Anthem of the gold medalist is played during the medal ceremony, and
3. Many countries have now been recruiting foreign athletes with the hope of bringing glory to their land.

Qatar and Bahrain are states in the SW Asia that recruit Kenyan long distance runner and Bulgarian weightlifters. Israel has recruited world-class athletes, too. So does Australia and a few European countries. Is this not against Chapter 1, Article 6? It seems that countries are doing this, because of their want to earn a medal during the game.

"What we don't like is athletes lured by large incentives by other countries and giving them a passport when they arrive at the airport," Olympic Committee President Jacques Rogge said just before the Athens Olympics, four years ago. However, if we really look at what is going on, these recruited athletes are lured to compete for these countries for money. Their lack of proficiency in the language of the host culture is just comparative to have given them a passport when they arrive at the airport.

What's your take on this issue, my friend?

The Lighter Side of the Olympics

2008-08-05T00:06:00.000-07:00

Ryan, one medal hopeful for the Olympic marathon trained the hardest for the past 4 years, right after them Olympics in Athens. His coach modified his diet, monitored his nightly life even his time with his wife. He even was not allowed to go to a smoking tolerant bar. When he and his coach left for Beijing last week, a TV reporter asked him if he was 100 percent ready to win a medal. He said, "With the complete training package I've done, I am very confident that I could win a medal."

During the athletes long distance dry run on Monday, the reporter was surprised to see him gasping and cramping halfway of his 16-mile run. (A full marathon is 26.2-mile route.) The reporter followed him to his hotel and asked, "Ryan, I thought you have the best coach and the best training, the most complete training package to prepare for the Beijing marathon? What was the problem?"

Ryan replied, "My coach forgot to train me with a mask on while running."

...........

Yes, coaches and athletes, except those Chinese contingent, are so worried about the effect of pollution to their performance next week. I saw them on TV already wearing masks right after they landed in China. Probably we would be witnessing many track athletes fainting and cramping for they would tend to hold their breath, as if they are all sprinters, for health sake. Probably we would see China contingent winning the highest number of medals.

Surely, we would be witnessing the most spectacular opening ceremony on Friday, both in field demonstration and fireworks display. Oh, yes, China spent 20 billion British pounds in the games. Most of that money went to the infrastructure, which would help China economy in the long run. Nevertheless, a big chunk of that money was also used to produce millions of fireworks for the opening ceremony. Why not? It would be an added pollutant to a highly polluted air.

Hey, athletes, did you bring your sunglasses, too? Too much smog will affect your eyes. If you do, just remember not to wear it, while wearing your black masks. Otherwise, you would be deported, suspected as terrorists. Hmmm.... another plus for China's medal standing.

Anyway, do your very best. I, a sport fanatic, will make night into day as I watch you all on NBC. Hats off to all of you.

A Blog on Elected or to-be Elected Officials

2008-08-01T17:41:00.000-07:00

It's election year in USofA. Rhetorical battle between the Presidential candidates has been heating up, while the outgoing president has been trying to do something to be remembered positively.

Yes, government officials come and go. Some walk their talk; others just talk and talk. Selfless over-performers receive peoples accolade; egoistic under-performers receive insult and ridicule.

I never will forget an elected governor in the early 60s in Mindanao, Philippines. I learned that he wasn't a good governor; however, he was (and will continue to be) remembered. It's not because of his accomplishments, but because of his "carabao" English that he used to impress people with.

So, here I am perpetuating his government service by etching his "carabao" English in a Kyoka.

Kyoka is a Japanese poetry form considered as a crazy poem. It makes fun of politicians or leaders, and of a certain event that took place. Syllable structure is similar to Tanka: 5,7,5,7,7

The Governor's "Carabao" English

"Good morning this noon.
I’m here running for office.
Voting is here soon
You should vote for me, at least,
Because I’m the very best.

If you’d vote for me,
I’d invite one and all
And cows would kill me
And I’d surely eat you all
…Before we raise the flagpole."

Men in Mindanao
Let’s think twice before we vote
A change we need now
Put to office those we thought
Who are worthy of your vote.

Don’t forget the past.
Men spoke English to impress
Let’s act real fast
Lest you want to hear them say,
‘Let’s sing the flag ceremony!’

Edmund Melig Industan (copyright, 2007)

This Kyoka reflects a terrible English of this under-performing official in Mindanao, Philippines, but it also might have happened (or still happening) in other parts of the world.

So, elected officials, please do your best and put your words into action; otherwise, you only would be remembered from generation to generation by your high faluting words and unsatisfactory performance.

Notes: 1) One of the poems included in my upcoming book, 101+1 Poems on THE EXPERIMENTAL DASANG and 45 OTHER POETRY FORMS: An Anthology.

2) Carabao is a Philippine English term for a water buffalo

Get Compensated:Join My Next Book Project

2008-07-29T18:07:00.000-07:00

Hi guys,

Just a couple of days ago, I saw the WEbook.com ad. I decided to check it out. I like the objective, so I signed up.

Right after I checked out several of the book projects that were posted, I decided to post one of my book projects, PRAISING ALL SEASONS LONG: Haiku Verses. As the title implies, contents are haiku verses about praising God in winter, spring, summer, and fall. There are 106 verses: 22 Haiku reflecting the nature and events in each season, and 9 haiku each for the introduction and conclusion. I wrote the verses when I was completely down from a terrible experience with the publisher of my first book, KOILAWAN: Letters and Poems of a Jungle Dad-Mom.

KOILAWAN was in the TOP 100 Bestsellers in Inspirational Books for a month on Amazon.com, TOP 100 Bestsellers in Religion/Spirituality/Mission for a month-and a-half on Borders. com, and TOP 100 Most Requested English Books for a month on Amazon.de (Germany), and to receive a very discouraging word from the publisher hit me real hard. It affected my desire to write. I temporarily have an ADD(attention deficit disorder). My patience and concentration became too short. My trust with fellow Christians was tested. (Yes, the publisher advertises itself as the best Christian POD publisher.) Haiku, the 3-line, 17-syllable verse, was the only one manageable to write. It was an avenue for my bruised spirit to be reminded that God was and still will be in control. In short, PRAISING ALL...LONG, was written in affirmation of God's goodness and faithfulness, despite the odds.

Well, enough of the sour gripe. I am a-okay now.

WEbook.com has a program to publish and sell some of the book projects posted in its site. Ones book project can be entered for rating, comments, and selection (to publish) through members' vote. PRAISING ALL SEASONS LONG, though it already had received a 5-star rating from one member few hours after I posted it, is late to be included for the vote. However, I am definitely turning it in for the fall selection.

Should PRAISING ALL SEASONS LONG be chosen for publication by WEbook, or other publisher, I would like to see it publish like a Haiku picture book: one or two verses illustrated with a picture. That is the reason why I am inviting you, my friends, and those who still are not but are interested, to join in my project.

Those photography enthusiasts, amateurs or professionals, could check out my Haiku Verses' project under EdMeligIndustan on WEbook.com. After you read the verses, you could start checking out your picture files. If you have pictures that you feel suitable for a particular verse, you could send them either to my email, edindustan@yahoo.com or edMindustan@gmail.com, or to the comment box under the Haiku Verse project on WEbook. Please include a description and location of the picture. I would love to get pictures from my friends all over the world. If your picture would be included in the publication, you would be compensated. And yes, you will be acknowledged. Last, but not the least, please send a photo or photos that you personally took.

Hope you'll join me (or help me) in this endeavor, my friends. Thank you all. God bless.

NOTE: 1) KOILAWAN is still available in 21 countries.

2) Sample of haiku verses in PRAISING ALL SEASONS LONG:

A. Praising God, Divine...
Maker of all things and mind
Wondrous and sublime

B. Life is a flower
It comes! It blooms! Then, it fades!
Praise God for the seeds.

C. Praise God in winter
For the coldness of the night
Time ot bundle up.

D. Life's so colorful
Autumn leaves so delightful
Soon, we'd see them fall.

E. Stinging burning skins...
Peeling! Maps on bodies seen!
Balm in Gilead reigns.

F. Praise God for the life
Smoke and flowers! Th'immortal life...
Perfect afterlife.