My real first name was taken from the bible in the book of Enoch (which is my father's name by the way). The original format was Jerahmeel, meaning "loving God" but my mom felt that there is a need to align it with Filipino machismo so he changed the "a" to "o."

Our last name is a transliteration (I think it's what it is called) of the Spanish word "y buen" which if im not mistaken meant "the good" or something.

So my name can mean "the good loving God" and yes, I feel that it is unfitting my character.

Anyway, a friend posted this on her FB and I feel the need to share it just to give people the idea how talented Filipinos sometimes when it comes to name. This article, I think, gives enough background about Filipinos propensity at humor.

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Source: http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/programmes/from_our_own_correspondent/9435751.stm
By Kate McGeown
BBC News, Manila

Bizarre and often unflattering names are as quintessentially Filipino as the country's Catholic faith, friendly smiles, former US military jeeps known as jeepneys, beautiful beaches and love of karaoke.

On my first day in Manila, I walked down to the local cafe and was served by a smiling young girl who wore a name badge entitled BumBum.

I did a double-take, then smiled back, deciding it was probably a joke.

But if so, it is a joke that practically the whole country seems to be in on.

Since then I've met a Bambi, three Bogies, several Girlies, a Peanut, a Barbie and a middle-aged man called Babe.

These names are found in all sectors of society.

Sometimes they are nicknames, sometimes genuine first names - but they are always what people are referred to on a day-to-day basis.

Even the president is not spared. His real name is Benigno Aquino, but almost everyone here calls him Noynoy.

Two of his sisters are called Pinky and Ballsy. No-one seems to see the need to ask why.

Neither does anyone question the integrity of Joker Arroyo, one of the country's most respected senators.

That is his real first name. Apparently he got it because of his father's fondness for playing cards.

Joker's brother is called Jack.

And it seems perfectly natural to Filipinos that the boxer Manny Paquiao should express his love for the British royal family by naming his daughter Queen Elizabeth.

Lost in translation?

So why do Filipinos have such odd, even risque, names?

This is not a translation issue, as most people speak English well, or well enough to know that BumBum, for example, is not exactly on the rest of the Anglophile world's list of popular baby names.

I rather tentatively brought the subject up at a dinner party full of lawyers, academics and business people.

Many of them were surprised - they had simply never thought of these names as having any kind of negative connotation.

But once we started discussing it, they did agree that, to outsiders at least, it all might sound a bit strange. Soon a heated debate began.

Perhaps it was because of the propensity of Filipinos to have large, tight-knit families, some of them said.

A man called Babe or Honey Boy, for instance, is probably the youngest member of that generation in the family.

It suited him when he was two years old - now he is a slightly overweight businessman in his 50s, why change it?

But nicknames are not always given when people are young.

The former president Joseph Estrada is more commonly known as Erap - a name he acquired in his 20s.

When spelt backwards, Erap becomes Pare, which means mate or buddy in the national language Tagalog.

Other guests thought that nicknames came about because of a need for individuality.

People here often have the same Christian name as their parents.

Former Congressman Ace Barbers, who, like Joker Arroyo, obviously had a card-player in the family, has the Christian name Robert, but so do his father and all his brothers.

He clearly has not found it a problem as he named his four sons Robert too. Nicknames must be essential in their house.

'Melting pot'

The conversation soon turned to the fact that the Philippines is a melting pot of different cultures, and perhaps that is what led to these strange names.

The president himself is a good example. His full Christian name is Benigno Simeon Cojuangco, names which are Spanish, Hebrew and Chinese respectively. His nickname Noynoy is the only part that is truly Filipino.

A well-used adage here is that the Philippines spent 400 years in a convent then 50 years in Hollywood, referring to Spanish then American colonial rule.

The Spanish introduced the concept of surnames - in fact they issued a decree in 1849 that everyone had to have a surname.

So even today, most surnames are Spanish.

But the main thing Spain gave to the Philippines was Catholicism, and with it, tens of thousands of newly-christened Marias and Joses.

With the Americans came names like Butch, Buffy and Junior - and the propensity to shorten everything if at all possible.

Perhaps it is the combination of these two influences which has led to names like Jejomar - short for Jesus Joseph Mary.

The current vice president is called Jejomar Binay.

Their surnames are often a form of Anglicised Chinese, but sometimes the Philippine penchant for fun shines through.

I have heard of a Van Go, a John F Kenneth Dee and an Ivan Ho.

But there are some names that just defy explanation.

Why would you call your children after the days of the week or your favourite desserts? To many Filipinos, a better question to ask is: "Why wouldn't you?"

I have been living here for a while now, and I have got used to all these names.

When I'm introduced to a Dinky or a Dunce, or read about people called Bing and Bong, it seems almost normal.

In fact, if anything, I rather like the fact that Filipinos are self-assured enough to use these names, no matter how odd they sound or how senior the person's public role.

But my assimilation is not quite complete.

While I think it is great that BumBum can wear her name badge with pride, I'm not quite ready to adopt a Philippine nickname myself just yet.

There is a saying that goes "no good deed goes unpunished."

Honestly I don't know what it meant and I don't even want to understand what it meant. I lost it at "no."

Most days when Jeri (my colleague at work who's probably one of the best people I've meet - attitude wise) take Edsa, I hitched along and there was this sort of ritual he keeps on doing.

Exiting the 5th floor of the parking area can be very annoying at times especially by 6pm when people are in a hurry. Other drivers would try to take over and even if he was next in the line, he'd keep his cool, let the car pass and then tell himself, "There's my good deed for the day."

At first I found it naive of him but in time, I've come to realize that it makes more sense and it doesn't hurt anyone. It became my inspiration.

Yeah, what if I too, would make sure that I do something good each day? It might not be much but it is something.

It can be as simple as giving my seat to an elderly at the bus, or maybe hold the door for someone while exiting the building or can be as out-of-the-way as helping out in a donation drive for people hurt and victimized by calamity somewhere.

The goal is doing a good deed just for the plain silly reason of doing it. It's not going to make me rich but it sure wouldn't make me miserable as well.

So why not do it for the sake of fun and pure spirit of helping.

I want to make a habit of it. And for habits to form, it takes time. So I’ll take it slow. I’ll do it one day at a time until it becomes natural.

A good deed a day wouldn’t make me a saint but deym, I don’t want to be a saint. But by doing it, hopefully would keep the world in balance. While some people flourish in inflicting pains to others, tormenting the souls of the weak and less able, I do my deed.

Out of the billions of people, there are two of us who would do it every day – one single deed a day. It wouldn’t be enough to keep the karma balanced but it sure will be a difference.

So each day, I'd go my way doing one good deed. The person I'm giving it to may not realize that they just received a favor but let it be that way. Who knows, they will pass the good deed along unconsciously.

And maybe, just maybe… it would inspire others to do the same.

Just like this post for: “Here’s my good deed for the day.”

Everyday I convince myself that I have the ability to understand people more than they know. I am still convinced about the said ability but right now, I feel stupid.

I feel stupid because it took me 24 hours to understand what the clues mean.

"It is something you can relate with."

"My dad did a stupid, stupid thing."

How can I not see the point of the two statements? Why did it take me this long to make sense of such clues.

I can relate to it because it happened to us, to our family. And the stupid thing that dads can do? What else can it be if not...

Yes, I think you got what I'm trying to say.

But I cannot say the words because it would feel real. It would make it a real problem.

The worst thing parents can do to their children is betray their trust. The worst thing that parents can do to betray their children's trust is to destroy their trust to each other. These things are interconnected and when this stupidity happens, the children often end up the one in the worst of positions.

Betrayal.

A word I'm so familiar with but still couldn't comprehend.
A word that I abhor and the thing my father did which I may never learn to forgive.

Nothing gets better in time. Once it's done, it is done.
I'm not judging because I may in the future betray the trust of people I love.
But before that happens, I pray that I'll be dead.

And to those that made the crime that I can't mention here yet...
I wish you long life so that you can see the effects of what you've done... YOU MISERABLE PATHETIC JUDASes!

The Mayans had predicted that the world is going to end by December 2012. How it would happen, no one really knows, not even the Mayans. But the thought of end-of-world as we know it seem to fascinate a lot of people and some take it to the extreme it's becoming annoying.

So what if the world is to end by then? Would our freaking out and paranoia do anything?

I guess not.

To other people, the world had long ended long before the predicted time has even come. Heartaches had mean the end of the world to a few people I know. Not graduating college on time meant the end of the world to my former classmates. Getting pregnant and getting someone pregnant had been the end of the world to some of my closest friends.

So you see - the end of the world happens every day. It shouldn't cause any commotion at all. If we die, we die. There is no fighting it. We're all heading that way anyway.

I'm not saying this because I'm a pessimist. But I have long come to accept that there is no escaping death. I know the religious aspect of it and I'm not going to touch that. Reality is we can only fight so much but the end result is the same.

Instead of making a big fuzz about 2012, why not pay closer attention to what is happening at the moment.

If a pervert hurts a child, it should mean the end of the world to us.
If a drug pusher sells drugs to schools, it should mean the end of the world to us.
If parents hurt their children, or children hurt their parents, it should mean the end of the world to us.
If police are not doing their job or the government is failing its people, it should mean the end of the world to us.
If we fail to say good morning every day, it should mean the end of the world to us.
When someone fails to do a good dead, it should mean the end of the world to us.

Let's not wait for a catastrophe or calamity to strike long before we tell ourselves that the world is ending. The world had been heading to harm’s way a long time ago. It has been on the road of destruction more than we can remember. Let's all stop acting like children and start making changes.

And something as small as candy wrappers on the street should mean the end of the world to us.
Just because it's too small of a commotion doesn't mean it shouldn’t be noticed.

Starring Aaron Eckhart, Michelle Rodriguez (the only two I recognized) and Ne-yo (can't really figure out which one he was until I made some google search), ***SPOILER ALERT***, the film was about aliens invading Earth because of their need for water - or so one of the theories went.

Three minutes before the film, Nyle received a text message telling her not to forget going to church because the world is going to end soon.

It was scary which made the movie more appealing. Earth is to be colonized by creatures closely resembling robots and they have these guns which bullets burn you dead. People were doing their regular stuff and out of no where, they're being killed.

And having a wild imagination, I pictured myself in such situation. I felt angry about the thought of being colonized. How dare they come and destroy things they don't have right getting. And I imagine myself being one of the marines. Crazy stuff, I know. But how far I'd go to protect the people I love is beyond question.

Just so you would have better idea what I'm talking about, go catch the movie. Tell me what you think and let's debate about it.

'Twould be fun. :)

People who are guilty often gives meaning to everything that is happenning around them. Thus, this poem.

A week and two days from now, I'm heading home.
Home is but just a dot in the map.
If not for the volcano where our city got its name from, I, myself would be having a hard time finding it in the map.

What I like about my small city in the mountain are the falls, and the rivers and the trees (assuming there still are.) I wanted to brag about the wonderful places there but I rather have the pictures do the talking so watch out for them.

Here's a to-do list for me:


1. Stop at every town from Dumaguete all the way to Canlaon in one day.
2. Visit at least 5 beaches. (When I get back, I'll be tanner than the ridiculous Jersey Shores gang.)
3. Deliver a mind-blowing lecture on my university's student publication. (Yep, they invited me again.)
4. Ask grandma and grandpa to cook me some baye-baye, and my favorite kalamay-hati. (I'll post pics to give you an idea what these are.)
5. Bond with Chy and Ice and hopefully will have a mind blowing vacation.

This vacation will be about spending time with my grandparents. Some of my experiences will be made public while most of them, the intimate one, I rather keep to myself.

Looking forward. :)

The 21st is a few more days away. I'm going to grow old another year. It's not as exciting as it used to be. I'm not even excited about gifts anymore. I just wanted people to be there.

The last time that I'd been excited about gifts was December about 10 to 15 years ago. We used to have this new year family gathering and my titas from Bacolod would all come home. We all spend the new year in lola's house. Once 12 midnight strikes, we'd open the gifts and my brothers and cousins and I would have new clothes and notebooks or shoes depending on what our parents requested.

The prospect of having new things for new year, speculating what it could be, was fun even to our parents and lola and lolo. Then life happened. I've grown my own wings, tails and even horns. The gifts became all about the price and the newness, not the thought and the preparation. Whenever I'm given something, I started to complain. "It's not even new." "Duh, it's just a remnant of what they wore."

And then the gift giving stopped. And I started to miss it.

I wanted gifts to be given as a surprise. I often don't want it on my birthday because presently most people see gift giving as an obligation rather than as a source of joy to the person who's receiving it. And I don't want anyone to feel obligated. I want people to be happy for me because another year has passed and I'm still alive. I wanted people to pray for me so that I can be safe for another year and hopefully still celebrate another birthday.

Because when I die, it's not the gifts that would matter anymore.

For my birthday, I wish for your happiness. May it be in family, in job, in life - I hope you find it.

I'd like to believe that I found my happiness. And having said that, I hope God wouldn't think of me as selfish to request for the said happiness for life. Even if life - is short.

My old blog was updated like ages ago. I don't want to delete it because I still feel a connection to it but I think the time has come for me to move on.

"Empty graves on nobody’s valley" was created to give way to the angst of a younger me. I've grown old and I'm no longer the innocent pacifist that I used to be. I learn a lot of things in life and they were terrible. I no longer believe in good versus evil. I believe in good coexisting with evil. I believe that one person is capable of doing both given the opportunity. I believe that as evil triumph, good is just standing by watching as people suffer maybe drinking mojito and too drunk to care and when his drunkenness has passed, he'd try to win again only that it's too late.

I don't know exactly what I meant by what I wrote - only that it felt right. That good is becoming more and more lax with his role and that evil is becoming more and more persistent is truer than I can even swear. I can feel it in me. It's exciting but more than that, I fear it.

As I say goodbye to Empty graves, I will welcome tearing (dot) wall. He would become my new friend. He will contain every complaint, every mischief, every fucking failure I do. Tearing (dot) wall would put me to shame. He would mock me and laugh at my weaknesses. He would tear me into pieces just like he would tear that wall (whatever that is).

But I believe that by doing this, I'd come out triumphant. In what way, I've got to figure that out. But in every mockery and insult, I'd become strong - thick faced so that when that final test would come, my facing with evil - the goodness left in me would be enough to crush him down.

We had long journey “empty graves”. I would miss you. I would miss your sunny facade and your goody-vibe. But I will not forget you. I may wake you up again someday. Only if I get back that innocence, that belief in good that I already lost.

Tearing (dot) wall, you would become a challenge for me. But you'd help me figure things out, whether you like it or not. We'll traverse life together from now on and don't ever give up on me.
Here's to a new beginning. And to the end of a good friend.

Hi,

When I was in elementary, one of my favorite stories is the story of two boys whose respective villages were threatened by big waves. One of the boys lives in the side of the mountain while the other lives in the fishing village below. When the big waves came killing the parents of the fishing village boy, he was taken by the family who lived in the mountain and from the destruction and lose, the fishing village boy learned that life can still be beautiful after pain, lose and suffering.

What triggered the recall is the fact that thesetting of the story is also in Japan. I forgot the title of the story but the courage and the friendship forged amidst the tragedy had stayed with me up to now.

The catastrophe that is Japan is like a nightmare. I feel like the story I've read of so many years ago had actually happened now that I'm already an adult. And just as the story made me sad before, it made me sadder today.

In my mind, somewhere in Japan right now is an orphan, sad and desperate because he didn't only lost his house, he lost his family - he lost his everything.

The earthquake which was followed by a tsunami killing number of people was something that I know and heard about in the news but didn't really care at first.

Until I saw the pictures and the videos.

The internet has been flooded with these. There were a lot of stories floating around and the more that I read the stories, the more that I look at the videos and the pictures, the more I get depress and helpless.

What I'm really worried about is the fact that the tragedy is not over yet. That looming in a distance is another possible tragedy - the explosion of nuclear power plants that may take more lives.

And I'm wondering. Can the Japanese people take more? Can they survive yet another tragedy?

Maybe the answer is on that story of so long ago.

I remembered the boy learning to be brave, to face life's adversities with courage. I can remember that there was a family who helped the orphan and they took him in.

I believe that Japan would survive this tragedy because there are people all over the world willing to see them rise again. Japan has fallen before and their people had suffered a lot. But over the years, I've come to understand that the Japanese people would always remain strong and they can survive tragedies and start anew.

My prayers and wishes may not be much but you have them.

Whoever you are, whatever you are experiencing right now and if by any chance you happen to understand what I'm saying, you will survive - and you will be happy again. For you are a country of survivors and optimists and yours is a story of hope. Don’t give up.

A friend you might never meet,


Yeru