Taking Chances

It’s unquestionable. The University of the Philippines (UP) is the premier university of the country.

An annual approximate of 70,000 students from Aparri to Jolo and even overseas dare to take a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity in the form of an admissions exam-the University of the Philippines College Admissions Test (UPCAT). Like the 70,000 or so, UP has always been my dream school and for as long as I can remember, my eyes were fixed on UP-and only UP. Last 2010, I grabbed that chance and was rewarded handsomely. I am now an iska.

Alas, I am stepping into a bigger world and yet I am at a complete loss, trying to figure out what to do with my life. There is another world right in front of my eyes, luring me close until I finally decide to take my first step and cross the threshold that divides us. That world is a perfect metaphor for UP. You see, although I was unperturbed by the stories about the naked men running in December, the frat wars, the rallies, and the professors who apply the ‘dart grading system’ in their classes, I was still uncertain if I have what it takes to stay in the University. UP may be the best but it is still infamous for bordering on the extreme, whether it be in its students, teachers, or even the happenings inside its tree-fringed campus. Cliché as it may sound, but to whom much is given, much is expected. I had faith that I passed the UPCAT for a purpose that may be beyond my understanding. However, I had my own share of fears. I doubted my intellect-if I could call it that-would have a chance against classmates whom I know are nothing short of geniuses. But my experiences prove otherwise. I realize now that if I did not take my chances with the University, I would forever be an outsider looking in.

 There is something about being in UP and being among thousands of other iskolar ng bayan that compel me to actually persevere. Gone were the days when I strut through the halls of my high school, with my head held high, confident that I am one of the beautiful people. On the day of the advanced freshmen registration, the poise and swagger I basked in all throughout high school whisked themselves to the unknown; in their place came insecurity and anxiety. Everyone graduated with the highest honors- from a science high school, no less- or triumphed in a competition I can only dream of entering. I am now in the company of the genius, the gifted, and the dazzlingly beautiful. While I breathe the same air as they do, I cannot settle for mediocrity, only excellence. I have to prove myself capable of withstanding whatever UP life may throw at me

 My three months here in UP came as blessings in disguise because they dispelled my immediate concerns and misconceptions about being an iskolar ng bayan. First, I realized that UP students are not genetically modified geniuses. I now kill myself just so I can have grades everyone's envious of. It's pure blood and tears. And a gallon of coffee on hell weeks, too. Others, well, let us just imply that to say they burn the midnight oil is an understatement. Likewise, as for the stories I mentioned earlier about frat wars and such, newspaper headlines and other accurate reports would attest that they do occur in UP Diliman. But this is what I say: what is life without a little danger? I was never conscious of this myself before now, but yes, if being an iska means fearlessness, then I am proud to say that I might be maroon-blooded after all.

It is daunting, to be honest, but perfectly understandable that family and friends have warned me of student activists who, armed with “pitchforks and torches”, march in the streets and wreck school property. It was only my family and friends’ typical overprotectiveness, their desire to shield me from the dangerous, dangerous because it is foreign to them. I raised my eyebrows then but now I laugh. Taking on the role of an iska (in training) opened my eyes to the world far beyond my comfort zone. UP students have not only been taught to memorize the various jargon in textbooks but also to deeply internalize and see for themselves the current situation of the masses. It is so humbling to be connected to such people, even classmates, who are destined to be movers and shakers of Philippine society. This sense of national consciousness and moral obligation reminds us of the crucial role we play in society and dictates that we wear our passion with pride. Only by immersing one’s self in the masses’ situation can we truly understand their plight and champion their democratic rights. Advocate-that’s exactly what I should be.

It is common knowledge-at least for me-that UP graduates have constantly ranked high if not topped the board examinations given by the Philippine Professional Regulatory Commission. It also comes as no surprise that quite a lot of household names in the entertainment industry: Ely Buendia, Eugene Domingo, and Lino Brocka; media: Bernadette Sembrano and Mel Tiangco;  and the government: Jejomar Binay and Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo have all earned their degrees from only the best university. The UP diploma remains the ticket to a high-powered career that offers benchmark 5- to 6-digit salaries. Knowledge-intensive labor markets in both the local and global arena are tilted in favor of UP graduates. Hence, when all things end accordingly and I somehow manage to survive my five years with the naked man, I would look forward to working for employers, companies that would welcome me through their doors. I believe the University has and will continue to prepare its students for the bright future that awaits them; thus, its graduates will not only be able to stay in their jobs but also excel and contribute a positive change to society. And when it’s my time to say goodbye-for the time being, of course-to the University, I will be confident that I was geared well enough to acquire a competitive advantage in the labor market, here and abroad.

Many who have heard of my new-found fondness for Oble cautioned me of the disappointment of eventually discovering that the university has only been romanticized by the myths of the long past. But as my role as an iska in training entails me, I am determined to walk through life with my sense of individuality intact and with a brain brimming with inspiration. Nevermind what other people throw at me because I now understand that only experience can offer me the satisfaction of proving them wrong.

Quintessence of the Women in Greek Literature

THE ILIAD

Helen, the Olympian-born, dazzlingly beautiful trophy wife of Sparta's King Menelaus was melancholic in her marriage. Helen yearned for the companionship of the gorgeous young man whom she had seen only in a vision: Paris, the Prince of Troy. As luck would have it, Paris managed to "abduct" Helen and spirit her off to his homeland, where she was welcomed by his father, King Priam, despite the portents of doom from Paris' foresighted sister, Cassandra . 

Helen’s beauty practically incited the Trojan War that killed untold thousands of souls. Furthermore it is the center piece of the Greek myth. Hesiod describes Helen, "...others brought in boats over the great gulf of the sea to Troy for the sake of fair-haired Helen." He also refers to these warriors as "more just and superior, the godly race of men-heroes, who are called demigods..." The exploits of the heroes of the Trojan War form the essence of the Greek stories that Greek religion was based upon for hundreds of years later.

THE ODYSSEY

The call of his oath to reclaim Helen from Troy caused the separation between Odysseus, the architect of the Trojan horse that spelled V-I-C-T-O-R-Y for the Spartans, and Penelope, his wife and Queen of Ithaca. However, as he sailed home after the war, he soon found himself fighting for his life as Poseidon, the god of the seas that harbors a bitter grudge against him, planned to wreak revenge on him at any cost. For those 20 years that his departed husband struggled to free his path towards Ithaca, where was the beautiful Penelope? 

COMPARISON 

A battlefield on which men heroically fight to the death, with the ground littered with bodies, that’s what the two epics of Homer were about. But underneath the gore and carnage of the men's bodies are the twisted and bound bodies of live women on their backs. The above visual is an attempt to distill the apparent role of women in general and Helen and Penelope in particular in Homer's world and the world he depicts in his poems. Rather than individual persons who control their lives and their environment, women in The Iliad and The Odyssey operate as pawns controlled by the men who control the world in which they live.

Helen was made to display her naked body in front of the leering eyes of nobles and commoners alike.

Penelope can only tolerate the rowdy mob of suitors who have overrun her palace and pillaged her land because well, custom dictated her to eventually remarry.

What made them different, if you ask me, is their attitude towards the anguish caused by the men in their life.

   Helen, escaped; Penelope, endured.

Helen left behind all sense of morality, shame, and responsible behavior as she bared heart and soul to Paris. She turned a blind eye to reason and followed her heart albeit she was aware that his husband would come after her and that thousands would lay their lives for this unworthy cause. So, what do you call the one thing that launched a thousand ships….against another? A villain, an antagonist, or the baddie, that’s what she is. Call her whatever you want, but underneath her golden Aphrodite exterior lies a woman not worthy of a crown.

The trait of endurance that marks Odysseus is mirrored in his wife Penelope, who never lost faith in her husband despite the pressure her many suitors place on her to remarry. In the 20 years of Odysseus’s absence, Penelope had done nothing but heavily uphold her honor and hope and wait patiently amidst all odds that her husband’s ship is just on the horizon, his men rowing briskly towards Ithaca. She was the epitome of what a devoted wife should be – submissive, patient and able to love unconditionally – or everything Helen as a spouse was not.

It requires no further explanation for me to conclude that in terms of character, Penelope is worth emulating; to follow the footsteps of Helen, on the other hand, can only bring tears and misfortune to a person.

Sacrifice, defined.

Fertility symbol. Goddess. Nymphomaniac whore. Guiltless victim. Bronze Age princess. Helen is the West's original femme fatale. The most fascinating aspect of her story is her illicit love affair with Paris, the handsome prince of Troy. Aphrodite, the goddess of love, had promised Paris the most beautiful mortal woman in return for awarding Aphrodite the prize of supreme divine beauty. Unable to resist such a tempting bribe, Paris made his fateful judgment. He then traveled from Troy to Greece for his reward. Helen was the wife of Menelaus, king of Sparta, but she fell victim to the passion instilled in her by Aphrodite. As Virgil famously put it, if in a different context: “Love conquers all.” Helen, “crazed by the Trojan man,” followed Paris to Troy. Hence, the Trojan War and the fall of Troy, antiquity's biggest myth.

Now, if I were the face that launched a thousand ships, would I be a willing accomplice in adultery? Would I choose to run away with a prince Aphrodite herself destined for me or would I see reason and put aside my desire for love to save millions? My answer is this, if God Himself gave his only begotten son to save a sinner like me from death and offer eternal life, who am I to not do as He did? Life is dictated by the choices we make, not the regrets we want to forget. I would rather be known as an unknown, however sad, hero than a self-serving adulteress.  I know it won’t be easy to see my soulmate sail away and do nothing to stop him, but I must. 

But a man who commits adultery lacks judgment; whoever does so destroys himself. (NIV, Proverbs 6:32)

The act of adultery is the biggest scam that we and our flesh will play on ourselves. The short-term pleasures of adultery will tempt us into thinking that it will be the greatest thing to do.

It is not my desire to fall victim to the temptation of choosing love over country. Our love is doomed from the start. Why? The mere fact that Paris and I had exchanged glances with lust is already adultery. 

You have heard that it was said, 'You shall not commit adultery'; but I say to you, that everyone who looks on a woman with lust for her has committed adultery with her already in his heart. (NAS, Matthew 5:27-28)

Dangerous beauties for whose sake men rush to ruin themselves and others are naturals for popular storytelling in word and image. Especially gripping in tales of two lovers' irresistible passion for each other is the added complication of adultery, which makes one or both of them leave behind all sense of morality, shame, and responsible behavior.

Helen is a reminder of how subversive and destructive sex can be when you fall in love with the wrong person. Likewise, since human beings have an unconquerable habit of doing exactly that, for close on three millennia, people have been appropriating Helen for their own purposes. Helen would have been complicit in her fate, a dynamic protagonist, a woman with the power to bestow kingdoms and the will to use it but the power she wielded over kingdoms, she used to satisfy only two people: herself and Paris. 

So help me God, I will not do the same.

Cliche: Fairness and Camaraderie

  MY EXPERIENCES DURING THE FOUNDING ANNIVERSARY

I have long come to terms with the fact that  practically anything that involves body movements is a big no-no for me. Thus, I have never been a fan of sports or dance crazes that have become popular in my generation. 

       But the Foundation Week, specifically the Field Demo, is an exception. For every TUMCSian, the celebration of the founding anniversary is not just the proud display of their skills in dancing, cheering and sports, it’s a rivalry, a battle of physical prowess, talent and style against the other year levels. And even for someone like me who has two left feet and no knowledge whatsoever of sports, the Foundation Week is everything. Besides, I am the class president of IV-David. I simply cannot bear to see my section lose. 

            February 15 marked the beginning of the competitions. Everyone, even the teachers, had their game faces on. Rivalry was tangible in the air. 

            It wasn’t until later in the afternoon did I feel a visible shift in the mood of every TUMCSian. Everyone had their game faces on, trying to silently intimidate the other levels by sheer costume and presence alone.

            Then, the first years performed. Next to present were the sophomores then the juniors, respectively.

                Not surprisingly, whispered critiques, disdainful eye-rolls and even a few boos erupted from the audience, the opposing year levels. It’s sad that I was part of THIS audience. 

                When I heard Sir Jandy announce that it was finally the seniors’ turn to take center stage (figuratively), ask anyone and you’ll know that I was hyperventilating. It was only my second time to dance in front of my fellow TUMCSians and the fact just put me on edge about the performance. What was scarier is that there are almost ten seconds into the dance where I was made to stand in the center, partying, while everyone else takes their position. Yes, those were the most dreadful 10 seconds of the day. It’s almost funny that I completed the routine without falling, slipping or worse, ruining the whole dance number. :)

       Minutes later, the results were revealed. Every senior who participated in the modern dance was ecstatic when we found out that we were hailed champions. As expected, 
the juniors were victors in the cheer dance and ballroom competitions. And how can they not win? It was obvious from their remarkable performances that they really gave every ounce of their time and energy to wow the judges and audience alike. Now if you ask me if fairness was exhibited during the field demo, whether by the teachers, judges and students, I would have to say yes. The champions deserved their awards. No one can deny that.
             

              For the next three days, the basketball, volleyball, badminton and chess games  heat up the court as the freshmen compete with the sophomores and the juniors battle the seniors in each level's pursuit for the championship titles. But as in all battles, a winner emerges and one would always know that the loser was the one with his shoulders slumped down in defeat and with eyes downcast. However, this same loser somehow always finds a reason to say he was cheated. My question is, WHY? Why does he need to justify his loss as a consequence of his opponent’s cheating? To save face, perhaps? Or to give the audience the grounds to doubt the victory of the winner? But what if the so-called winners did contend dishonestly? 

               I see no reason for me to claim that this team cheated or that the other fought fair and square. I was merely part of the audience, you see. A half-blind spectator, in fact, for I was not wearing my glasses and without it, I could not see clearly, let alone identify a cheater from an honest player. I am not even knowledgeable in sports to see if the referee or the committee was correct in recording the scores or calling a foul.

Nevertheless, Melanie’s scraped knee, Jesie’ swollen eye, Rustic and Diorella’s sprained ankles and both IV- David and IV-Solomon’s wounded pride and shouts of “Foul ‘yun ah!?” were enough for me to believe that some were lying when they swore to vie for the championship with all honesty. So was physical prowess exhibited during these days? Definitely. Did every student have a firm grasp on competitiveness? Yes. But was fairness shown? Sadly, no. It wasn’t.

Now as for the audience who only wish to support and cheer on his favorite team, why don’t WE all just keep our mouths shut if we are completely aware that our jeers, boos and sing-song taunts are only doing more harm and damage than help? Isn’t it that we take pride in the fact that every TUMCSian has been educated and trained since childhood to act with good manners and right conduct? But judging from what I’ve seen and heard, a lot has chosen to forget their GMRC. Yes, you won, you’re now known as victors in the court, but aside from that title, do you want to be known as ill-mannered too?

 The celebration of the 26^th founding anniversary was rewarding, but challenging. It was difficult, elaborate, and complicated in so many ways, but so simple: twelve sections/teams, tens of players, three courts. I saw many of the qualities I pride my batch on: fairness and camaraderie, then focus, enthusiasm, and being a hard worker displayed during this week. Amidst everything, it brings tears to my eyes (literally) that this was my last Foundation Week in TUMCS but I know that my batch has done nothing but do our best for God’s glory.