A World in Transit was launched
by Ethos (the same literary publisher that released Love Gathers All with Anvil) last June 10 at Books Actually
and at Hong Lim Park for this year's Philippine Independence Day Celebration on June 12. It was a lifelong dream come true,
and it felt strangely heady to be signing books or giving away copies as competition prizes.
I commented during a short spiel at the launch that a
student of mine had written to say that literature is beautiful but impractical. I replied that he was correct:
engineering, medicine or law could make one survive. But poetry is no less important, because it makes us fall in love (one
reason why many write poetry), rise to heroic heights and bring out the best of humanity. I also expressed gratitude to my
mentors at the National Arts Council's Mentor Access Project, which set me off on this publishing project three years ago;
and my publisher Ethos Books' Mr. Fong Hoe Fang, who took time to reply to my query letter but responded favorably.
I went onstage at Singapore's Hyde Park, Hong Lim Park,
right after a group of breakdancers and before the first of several singers. The bleached-blond emcee, Pamela Wildheart, was
larger than life --she told me that she used to wear a huge crucific to ward off evil spirits when she was doing
public relations work. I told her and the Pinoy audience that A World in Transit is the first full-length poetry book
by a Filipino to be published by Ethos in Singapore. The Philippine ambassador, Mrs. Minda Cruz, opened my poetry workshop
with an unexpected tribute to the effect that A World in Transit shows that Filipinos are good not only in
singing or acting. The participant who took the workshop photos perhaps paid a greater tribute to the possibilities
of poetry when she said that the workshop encouraged her write a poem about her primary school-aged son, who has special
TIPS ON HOW
TO OBTAIN GRANTS AND GET PUBLISHED
By Eric Tinsay
notes by famous, now Singapore-based literary agent Fran Lebowitz and the online Publishers Marketplace)
1. READ: You
are what you read. Dip into books that are canonical, breaking out, somewhat like your own. Be aware of the spirit of the
times by reading a local newspaper, The New York Times, Ceriph, The New Yorker,
etc. Some of these periodicals offer cutting-edge, witty writing that could be worth your time.
2. Know thyself.
Listen to your voice and write to reflect what you hold dear. Do you want to write like Hemingway or Joyce, Thumboo or Stephenie
Meyer? Is that who you want to be? Be authentic. Do you want your work to be censored? Can you be content with writing genre
fiction for a smaller market?
3. Know thy
market. Publishing is a business. Is your work marketable? What are literary agents or publishers looking for? Attend book
launches, submit to writing projects, join competitions, apply for the National Arts Council’s Mentor Access Project. Make friends. Promote yourself –without losing your dignity.
4. Accept your
warts. There may be objective problems in your writing that you need to address. Sometimes what you see as a diamond may be,
in fact, a piece of charcoal. You might be self-indulgent in your writing. Join a creative writing or reading group such as
the fortnightly Babette’s Feast at Books Actually. Discuss your work with people who can be honest with you.
5. Do not take uncalculated risks.
Do not feel obliged to let freelance editors edit your manuscript for an undisclosed fee. If
you have to pay them, how much do they really care?
6. Read more. Read what is out there in your genre or sub-genre. Is your work as good as
the competition? Is it unique? How does it tap into goodwill for well-received titles. Read the acknowledgements of all the
books that you like and write down references. Also be on the lookout for calls for conference papers or anthology submissions
on the University of Pennsylvania
website. Subscribe to firstname.lastname@example.org for more calls for papers. If your paper is accepted, log in to the NAC website
for a grant application.
7. Write a query letter (of no more than two pages) which
includes your credentials, an explanation of what differentiates your work and a synopsis. Be very patient as it may take
more than six weeks for literary agents or publishers to reply. Send the letter to Fran Lebowitz of Writers House, Jayapriya Vasudevan of Jacaranda,
Mr. Fong Hoe Fang of Ethos Books: email@example.com.
I'm preparing lesson
plans for the next semester. I'm also attending to staff welfare projects such as the remodeling of the staff pantry and arrangements
for the annual Teachers Day staff lunch.
This semester could be measured in the amount of marking
that I have done. It has been quite heavy going. At the start of the second term, for instance, I marked the midsem test papers
while setting the final exam. At the end of that term, I was still marking papers--those of students who wanted a second opinion
on their final exam marks. I was fortunate to have attended literary workshops, one for five Sunday afternoons with a local,
award-winning poet named Felix Cheong and the other with the Ministry of Education's Gifted Education Branch (the Creative
Arts Program). These are opportunities to practice writing and pick up some tips to pass on to students in writing modules.
We were rained-in for a big part of a recent theology seminar that I was in as the steady monsoon
fell in torrents on Johor. Some parts of the state were flooded. One area that was adversely affected was Kota Tinggi, where
we went to view a river and a resort during one of several trips during the sports period. Fortunately, Bukit Tiram house
was spared as it is built on high ground. But still, several participants had to spend another sports period dredging up mud
from the clogged drains of Bukit Tiram after one such heavy rainfall.
Despite inclement weather, we kept good cheer
as we studied and conversed. The regional vicar recalled a pilgrimage made by the prelate in Shanghai a decade ago. I told
the other participants about my school. A Filipino priest played video clips of colorful marine flora and fauna off Batangas
The staff luncheon which I co-hosted at the bird park went bizarrely well, with NUS
High staff enjoying fun and fellowship on the local Teachers Day. Amazingly, the Staff Welfare Committee received more prize
donations from parents than we had anticipated: we might have some left over for Christmas giveaways too. Various people also
paid loving tribute to Prof. Lai, the outgoing principal who was with me in China recently.
The celebration was emotionally-charged
as teachers made speeches in between fairly pro renditions of "You've Got a Friend," "Remember Me this Way" and "Fen Xiang,"
a Chinese song about sharing among friends. A classmate of mine in the staff oil painting class presented a portrait of the
principal, and the head of the art department fired a ceramic house model with our dedications inscribed on the house walls.
Two years of co-hosting Hwa Chong's grand staff dinners have given me enough training to be equal to the task in NUS
High: it's curious how what I did in my former school mirrors my responsibilities in a new setting. I donned a Mexican peasant
poncho and sombrero (from a former housemate who left the costume behind). I had won a prize for that in my first Hwa Chong
dinner. This time around, I was declared ineligible for the best-dressed prize since I'm part of the organizing committee.
I also made a short dedication to Prof. Lai, recited three verses of Frost's "Road NOt Taken" and intoned "For He's
a Jolly Good Fellow" impromptu as all the staff stood in ovation. Prof. Lai is a very human principal--that is, he truly empathizes
with students and staff as he joins students at play and croons "What a Wonderful World" at staff luncheons. Other principals
are too keen to maintain a stodgy air to be able to imagine doing the same. In a sense, the culture of our school reflects
his style. RI and HCI can covet all the academic awards; we will relish the adventure of learning.
groups of my second year students last week won gold and silver medals in the Scholastic Environment Fund-sponsored oratorical
competition on climate change. They bested teams from my former school Hwa Chong and the other established top school Raffles.
This is not the first time that we did better in oratorical contests, but it still felt good to see our students shine--to
debunk mistaken perceptions of our students' language proficiency. The gold medal-winning group from NUS High proposed to
genetically modify trees to produce leaves with a bigger surface area but thinner to aid in photosynthesis. Unlike many teams
from other schools, ours knew their material by heart and answered questions with aplomb.
Several key management staff,
including the principal, are leaving. The principal would like to go back to teaching and research. Even my own head of department
tendered her resignation. I'm glad that my own little teaching space is stable and am looking forward to writing a literary
paper during the holidays. Life goes on as per normal.
I have new responsibilities that require administrative
work. I am currently chairman of the Staff Welfare Committee, which is tasked with, among other things, planning and implementing
a staff wellness/self-improvement program throughout the year. I get to arrange, for instance, mahjong sessions and Pilates
classes (even attended a couple of sessions of the latter: became painfully more aware of muscles I had not paid much attention
to). I am also coordinating a creative thinking program called Future Problem Solving, in which 2nd year students use a case
study approach to think systematically about topical issues. It's an uphill battle to make this program palatable and rigorous
at the same time, but I'm doing my utmost. With these new tasks, I get to reach out to different sections of the school community
and tap some of my own potencies. That's not too bad, is it?
Apart from holidays (sometimes interrupted by student
camps and staff meetings) in June and December, I no longer have extended free periods during which to conduct thoroughgoing
literary research. But I'm forging on somehow --on my own terms. 'Wonder what it was like for Einstein at that patent office
(not that I aspire to launch a quantum revolution in lit: I'm just really curious).
I'm relishing the holidays-- am
now marking papers in relative peace. I was at a couple of Chinese family dinners on the eve of the lunar new year. It was
a time to catch up with old friends, savor uncommon delicacies (sea cucumber, cuttlefish, leek dumplings, kueis of all shapes),
take it easy. The second dinner was at the NUS high hostel-- some of my students were unhurriedly making dumplings and waiting
for the clock to strike midnight so they could join swarms jamming the phonelines for cheap, convenient, instant online reunions.
I was able to visit the NUS museum yesterday--they have paintings and sculptures from all over the region as well
as offbeat post-modern art that glorifies the pedestrian (a run-down refrigerator and household appliances lined up in a row).
The change of pace was refreshing. 'Will resume marking papers soon.
I've received blessings
during the past year, including a stable job teaching at NUS High School, only about a 15-minute busride from the house. I
have access to all the NUS resources, including online materials for literary research. Our students are smart, promising
and determined to pursue high academic goals--giving me the feeling that I'm really shaping the region's future.
stability, however, has come at the expense of phd research. The latter is on hold. Indeed, it's a big challenge to juggle
teaching and studies at the same time.
As different parts of the world have different problems,
we have had to contend with a thick, noxious haze from forest fires in Indonesia that hung stubbornly like second-hand smoke
over the island over the past week. It was like the morning after New Year's eve back home or the weekend garbage burning
in my Manila neighborhood but on a daily basis. I had to stay in the airconditioned staff room for most of the week. Asthmatics
had breathing problems. One good thing about this, though, was that it made the full moon on the Midautumn Festival last Friday
Marking papers, the bane of my profession, still takes up most of my time.
to catch the One Nation in Concert charity show at the Esplanade (the local CCP) two weeks ago featuring volunteer actors
and some physically challenged from different organizations: children with Down's syndrome dancing, wheelchair-bound adults
doing the chacha, some blind people playing harmonica, all of them decked in rainbow-colored masques, gussy costumes.Their
limitations don't seem to stop them from pursuing their dreams of being in the spotlight or helping themselves.
Teachers' Day in NUSHS was like that in HCI, but, as in most things in this new school, understandably scaled-down. And so
I received mini chocolate bars, small cards, a thumb-sized teddy bear, a stress ball, origami, and dainty token gifts (including,
would you believe, an eggshell painted with a micro Teacher's Day greeting). I don't really mind: as Napoleon and others have
attested, good things come in small packages. I'm sure you also had fun in your own Teachers' Day celebrations
former students of mine, Wu Jianmin and Ren Jinfeng of S78 (I think), were recently awarded the prestigious Singapore Armed
Forces scholarships (Jinfeng appeared in the Straits Times with his life story of immigrating from China and making it big
here). The scholarships provide free tuition and stipends at a university in the UK or US. Another former student who is still
in HCI is going to read a paper in a conference in San Francisco. Such news inspires me to try to do my job well and to make
some headway in my own research.
Language Week (which coincides with a unique school holiday here
called "National Harmony Day") came and went. I took charge of coordinating the different special events such as morning assembly
talks on the contributions of languages to their respective cultures; a mass book loan campaign with the National Library
Board; a discounted book sale, film screening of a Malaysian movie entitled "Sepet"; and a Malay dessert sale. It was hectic,
but everything proceeded without a big hitch. I think this will be the start of more responsibilities and my digging in deep,
as it were, in this field.
Last Friday, I took part in a cross-country race organized by the school --but as a volunteer
medic with a stretcher on the side of the racecourse. I was also selected to join an Extreme Gourmet relay contest: several
teachers had to eat exotic dishes in a race with students. I gulped down wasabi.
READING THE DA
VINCI CODE AND BOOKS OF LIGHT AND FIRE
The past three years have affirmed powerfully how a book can change the world
or at least a part of it that I hold dear.
Before The Da Vinci Code, if I had said I was a member of Opus Dei, some
asked if that was a musical piece. Now, after that little book "for mindless people" has sold 60 million copies, people's
eyes dilate and they ask, "Isn't that a fictitious group?" or "Aren't you a band of power-hungry, albino assassins?"
pop cultural phenomenon conforms to the classical definition of evil as an absence, though not total, of good. The novel and
movie that it has generated have put Christian beliefs, however distorted, in the spotlight by themselves or through the scores
of apologetical books that they have inspired.
They have also made more people aware of Opus Dei, a Catholic organization
mainly for laypeople that makes the humdrum affairs of any job the stuff of sanctity. Hundreds of Japanese, among people of
other nationalities, have written email to inquire about corporal mortification (which I practice but not to the point of
shedding blood as in the movie) and membership procedures. Suddenly, we are hip! One of our priests in Singapore, Fr. Joe
Lopez, has catechized in several parishes and has been quoted in an article of the major local daily, Straits Times. Another
priest, Fr. Michael Chan, has been featured as a UK-educated phd and priest of Opus Dei in several publications, including
the Chinese equivalent of the New Paper tabloid.
Even my colleagues and friends have not been immune to this frenzy
over that one book. After reading a Time magazine feature on the Work (one month before the release of the book's movie version),
A Chinese colleague of mine wanted to know more about the Catholic faith. After watching the movie, two old Catholic friends
have become all too aware of gaps in their knowledge of the Bible and doctrine. One signed up for Bible study at his parish.
The other is keen to attend doctrine classes with us. And then one teacher in my school watched a British-made documentary
on the Work broadcast during primetime on a state-run news channel. Chafing under a heavy marking load, she said she would
rather be an assistant numerary, a member of the Work who performs domestic chores in our centers.
All types of books, even unlikely ones, can be an effective tool to change lives, even up to the brink of conversion.
They can also become a blurb to peddle good books. The publisher of that thriller positing a married Christ also recently
released a limited edition of our founder's collection of spiritual reflections, The Way. The publisher did so complete with
a glitzy launch in Manhattan.
Books have served as a conduit of grace for countless people, by all means not limited
to the Judaeo-Christian tradition, throughout the ages. The Word of God in codified form is the all-time bestseller and a
constant goad toward transcendence. St. Augustine, a father of the church in the fourth century, heard a child's voice ordering
him to take the Bible and read. He obliged, and the world is all the richer for it. St. Teresa of Avila, known for spiritual
locutions and ecstatic raptures in the 16th century, took solace in prayer and spiritual reading during the dark night of
her soul. She kept it up for two decades. Our founder, St. Josemaria, nourished his soul in the early 20th century by praying
and reading the gospels. He also read spiritual classics such as Thomas a Kempis's The Imitation of Christ and St. Therese
of Lisieux's The Story of a Soul. He has been raised to the altars. This reading tradition continues in an undivided chain
as we pore over the lives of saints, Christian philosophy and theology as well as literature about the Fall of individual
men and their redemption.
For those dealing with intellectuals, books form an integral part of the foundation and growth
of the spiritual life. St. Josemaria used to scribble on the books that he gave to the first fellows who became acquainted
with Opus Dei this dedication and prayer: "that you seek Christ, that you find Christ, that you get to know Christ." Just
as books are said to influence by "osmosis," reading about Christ should enable us to become more like the man-God. The love
of the saints for God, expressed in countless books, certainly gives hope. St. Josemaria considered the latter as "books of
fire," spreading the warmth of charity to many souls.
For those who have started their faith journeys, books of theology
and spirituality are veritable guides. If these books can help make sense of what we believe and of how we relate with the
divine, how much easier will it be for us to do the same for our friends and family?
Books As Canon
allies in sharing God's revealed word in two ways.
First, books put a human face on the issues that we experience
and help us realise that spiritual considerations inform the experiences of real people. Books also help us understand and
appreciate aspects of the interior life. In this sense, books truly mediate between the divine and human. Books are also a
mirror that people look into in order to know themselves better.
Second, reading books introduces us to provocative
ideas; makes us relish good writing; and equips us with felicitous phrases and creative techniques by which to transmit knowledge
and experiences. Illustrating our points with a relevant and revealing literary allusion could demonstrate that we are not
only aware of important issues but are also sensitive to how they are put forward.
Here is a caveat, though. Reading
books, however sublime, ought to be treated as a means and not as an end. The latter situation is Don Quixote's. He ended
up deserving his chosen title of "Knight of the Sad Countenance."
When sifting through books, let us look for the gems
of truths in them. We have to do so ever carefully. The late Pope John Paul II, a voracious reader himself, wrote, "I have
always had a dilemma: What should I read? I tried to choose the most essential works. So much has been written! Not everything
is noble and useful. One must know how to select and ask for advice as to what to read."
What books will I engage
with during this vacation? Certainly not Dan Brown's: they test the limits of one's incredulity and my patience. I will instead
read up on Thomistic cosmology: e.g., how a substance subsists in itself and accidents in the substance, with an application
to an understanding of the holy eucharist. Why not? Obscure but orthodox are the new cool.
had a reunion with my HCI tutorial group last Thursday. I would have wanted the circumstances to have been more upbeat, though.
The father of Chai Hui Zhong, the president of the string ensemble, passed away after a 7-month battle with cancer. But he
departed after getting baptized--in the Anglican church. My former students are uptight as they are in the thick of preparations
for block tests, promos, A Levels. If the performance of my former students is taken as a predictor of their own, they should
do very well. I organized a two-part seminar for the school's journalism club of which I am in charge. A reporter from Straits
Times and an editor of Reuters gave advice on how to turn in effective news copy. A few students from an independent school
attended the first session and made us earn S$18 in registration fees. Last Thursday, I brought a couple of residents from
the center and two of our high school friends to the school's S$300,000 observatory, supposedly the "best" in Southeast Asia.
We saw the Orion nebula and Saturn, which look exactly as they do in NASA photos. The school provides plenty of enrichment
to those who tap its resources.
I had a bit part in a comedy sketch put up by some mainland Chinese
students for the school's Chinese New Year celebration. I played a wise man (with a Santa Claus beard [the same that I wore
at the Hwa Chong staff dinner that I co-hosted] and wicker hat) giving them advice in Mandarin on how to exterminate some
Nian monster. It is strange how I get co-opted for this sort of activity (a grotesque fulfillment of a childhood dream). Some
of my colleagues did not recognize me.
There were requisite orchestra performances, a dance, songs, games, and other
teachers in a combination of music, kungfu and calligraphy. The principal sang "I'd Like to Teach the World to Sing" (old
Coke jingle) in another display of informality that makes working in NUSHS so much cozier than in local Chinese academic institutions.
Afterwards, we partook of a local CNY dish, lo hei (noodles for long life). Long life and a sage's wisdom to all!
a speech to the whole school, a representative from the NUS board of governors emphasized that the people of Singapore had
invested a lot of money (S$55m) in the school, and the students have to give something back to the community. I am doing my
I began the school year hiking: was flat-out tired after trudging over four kms with students, a few of whom
chanted a Chinese funerary song (they had fun so it must give good karma). 'Tried to maximize the time (a skill I picked up
from Hwa Chong) by simultaneously holding a meeting with the student editor of the Journalism Club that I am in charge of.
The staff room here seems less chilly and livelier (with occasional peals of laughter) than in my previous school.
There is also a free flow of chocolates in the afternoons. The students are brilliant but younger, well-behaved (I don't know
for how long; like HCI's 05S6A at the start of the last school year) and hush up when the affective education head raises
her arm as if taking a pledge-- the students respond by raising theirs in turn-- as a signal for them to hush up. The school
is attracting good students : 20 per cent of the students are gifted.
NUSHS is already building a good reputation
in the region, drawing students from China (30), Vietnam (14), the Philippines (at least 2), etc. Even a friend of the Phil
national artist in literature, F Sionil JOse, wrote to me asking about application procedures for her daughter who is in a
Filipino-Chinese school. I think I will put the skills I learned from my apprenticeship in Hwa Chong to good use here.
Some situations and people dovetail in such an uncannily seamless way that their confluence must not be mere
coincidence. Four months ago, I was almost ready to give up on teaching because of a technical hurdle. But last weekend, NUS
HS offered me a job with even higher pay than in Hwa Chong, the promise of contacts for opportunities in the university and
only a ten-minute commute from the house. And before releasing me from my contract at the end of the year, the good VPs of
Hwa Chong have promised a bonus. What could all this be for? I'm sure I'll find out in future but only in hindsight.
For the college's celebration of Singapore's 40th national day, some teachers, including me, were roped in to
strut down a catwalk in costumes. I donned a Merlion suit consisting of a cape with paper scales and a paper mane made by
my CT Group (05S72). That costume as well as a similar one won by my student Jeffrey O. won 2nd place (just an aside: it turned
out that several of the judges are good friends of mine). A Chemistry teacher beat us to 1st place by wearing half of a variant
of the national flag. Though unusually reserved, my CT Group is quite talented. They swept the inter-CT badminton competition
with a 1st place overall finish. More than half of the class (16 of 26) hold key student government/CCA posts (president,
vice president, secretary or treasurer), including Ares Faculty Head and the presidency of the String Ensemble, Indian Cultural
Society, the softball team and the badminton team. Another student is an interschool medalist in judo. Indeed, silent waters
run deep--perhaps as deep as the Mariana Trench.
The Hwa Chong Guitar Club that I am in charge
of --despite my not knowing even how to strum-- won a gold medal at the Singapore YOuth Music Festival last night. That equals
their feat two years ago. Never at any stage of their rehearsals did I doubt that they could pull it off. They practiced like
mad after classes on Weds, Fris and, this week, Sat. I provided them with logistical backing that included buying S$700 guitars
and booking practice venues.
This morning, the 50-member SYF team went on the assembly stage to announce their win
--after a misleading introduction in which the members tried to look glum. I'm so relieved: no more extended practices, at
least for SYF; no pre-performance butterflies in the stomach. The club played a Spanish serenade and a Toccata. They were
technically excellent, but I thought they were a little stiff --too concerned about striking the right chords-- onstage.
papam! A student from the college, Damien P., baptized at St. Ignatius church last Easter, organized a rosary session at the
same church for the conclave. Damien's baptism was marked by animated singing and the catechumens' taking a dip in a shallow
pool inside the church. Throughout the ceremony with the water of life, the soothing, tinkling sound of the pool fountain
provided an appropriate soundtrack.
I'm up to my neck in essays to mark. The heavy workload has weakened my immune
system. 'Am nursing a flu bug.
We went to seven places with altars of repose around the island last Maundy Thursday
night. Busloads of people from a couple of local parishes filled up pews. One church popular among Holy Thursday pilgrims
was Sacred Heart, near Chinatown. It was unique: one font had an automatically revolving ball from which pilgrims can daub
themselves with holy water before entering the church. The church itself has an early 20th century facade but adorned with
garish neon lights; the interior is airconditioned, carpeted; and the altar of repose featured brightly lit, water-filled
vigil lamps with bubbles streaming upwards; some smoke billowed from a fog machine at the back. It was popular piety set in
Vegas. If it helps spur people's devotion to the blessed sacrament, why not?
ON the eve of the lunar new year, we
visited the Lams, the Chinese family that we've been visiting around this time since 2000. They moved to a new and more spacious
flat in Woodlands, about 30 minutes away by car. We were joined by members from the other center and a French couple in a
dinner of jellyfish, sea urchin, pork, several veggie dishes and an ube dessert.
Like the breakfast egg, I try to
keep my sunny side up. I've been granted an extension on the never-ending dissertation writing. That's something to cheer
I've been assigned a homeroom/civics tutorial class in Hwa Chong, and I think my students are nothing short
of cherubic--well-behaved and docile--for now. I was too caught up in classes last Tuesday that it escaped my mind that I
was supposed to take 05S72 to a freshman activity at the college auditorium in the afternoon. Instead, I conducted elections
of their class officers and discussed other homeroom activities in another room in another building (as stipulated in the
official college schedule). I later received email asking about the reason for our absence. After my explanation, the person
in charge of the freshman activity apologized for not issuing any reminder about it. The whirlwind of activity and the barrage
of notices last week were indeed confusing--'hope the entire term won't be like that.
out of circulation for the past two weeks because of a philosophy seminar in Sydney. Australia, with its wide, open spaces
and spontaneous, unpretentious people, provides ideal conditions for contemplating God's bounty in creation.
know that I'm a teacher of General Paper (equivalent to a university freshman-level expository essay and reading comprehension
course) at Hwa Chong, the top junior college here based on the A level test (roughly like our old NCEE) results for the past
three years. The whirlwind of activity of the past six months makes me feel like I've been in Hwa Chong for six years. I've
had a steep learning curve --in the process, I've also become one of the most "visible" teachers oncampus. I prepared and
delivered class lectures, marked papers, drafted an exam for the entire first year batch, solicited ads for the yearbook,
compiled the best student essays for a publication, rapped in a comedy-musical skit with other new teachers for the school
community on Teachers' Day, supervised the school newsletter staff and co-hosted the annual costume staff dinner in which
I won a prize for best-dressed male staffer. The school really taps all the teachers' talents (including performing skills
that I never really paid much attention to when I was teaching in talent-rich Manila [UNiversity of Asia & the Pacific]
more than ten years ago).
I'm also moving mountains to complete the phd dissertation.
inching forward in the dissert writing. It's wintry inside the business library (with the aircon on full-blast)and kind of
cool and windy outside during frequent afternoon showers. The campus is almost like a ghosttown, since most students have
hied off for the holidays.
Orchard Road is all lit up and huge Xmas trees are festooned with Santas, sleighs, elves
and reindeer that look flustered in their tropical setting. The locals celebrate Christmas in this multireligious society
with shopping binges. We hope to bring some Christmas cheer to old folks at a nursing home.
canonization of St. Josemaria was a very moving affair, a great spiritual agape, as you probably saw on EWTN. If you saw a
small Singapore flag waving as the pope was driven past the back section of St. Peter's square, that was either mine or a
housemate's. There were probably 300,000 people as the Via della Consolazione, which leads to St. Peter's, was filled with
pilgrims. The crowd was international. Our small group was sandwiched among Spaniards, Italians, Filipinos and some Latin
Americans. We chatted with, and later lost in the crowd, some Canadians and an Indonesian immigrant living in Ottawa. All
sorts of people, even an African girl, asked us what country our flag represented.
The pope looked very frail but
tanned, he was hunched for most of the ceremony, but gamely made the rounds of the pilgrim crowd for about half an hour after
the angelus. I saw his mitre flap past ahead of us, and Ching Hen sharpened his camera focus and snapped a photo of ... a
woman's arm as it blocked his sight.
We arrived at the Vatican at 7 am, but there were already long queues: Ruel prevailed
upon the rest of us and we cut in one line. If we hadn't done that, we probably would have gotten a worse location. We were
directly in front of the altar but at the back of St. Peter's square.
The liturgy was done very well, and those present
were focused on what was going on at the altar. The one who read the Latin gospel was Filipino. The singing gave me goose
bumps as it transported everyone to the realm of saints. Our founder's canonization proves that sanctity is really within
the reach of everyone.
The pilgrimage to Assisi, the hometown of two great medieval saints to whom I have a devotion,
Sts. Francis and Clare, was exhilarating. It was an awesome feeling to stand inside the same Prociuncula where Sts. Francis
and Clare prayed and attended mass. That structure is now enclosed in a huge basilica dedicated to Mary Queen of Angels. The
incorruptible body of St. Clare is in repose as it was at her death in the 13th century. St. Francis's tomb is at a crypt
in another basilica that is adorned by Giotto's paceseting, dramatic frescoes: the latter is another example of genius in
the service of God and opulence as a true temple of God deserves. Assisi is an idyllic retreat on a wind-swept hill overlooking
acres of farmland. Except for the unmistakable encroachment of commercialism (you have to pay 50 cents before entering a restroom),
it inspires one to communion with the divine.
I'll be travelling to the Philippines THIS SATURDAY,
and I'll be there until Aug 24. I'll spend most of the time studying the fathers of the church at Makiling Conference Center
in Laguna. I want to see how the Phils has changed over the years (also a barometer of how I've gotten older).
When I come back here at the end of August, I'd start what I hope would be my final year in the phd program. There's a lot
of hard work involved that is best approached one bit at a time.
Last week, I had coffee
with Singapore's foremost poet, Edwin Thumboo, also a former dean of NUS Faculty of arts and social sciences. He commented
on two poems that I had emailed to him. He also gave me a copy of CS Lewis's The Allegory of Love, something useful for my
research on the opposite desire of evil. All that was in exchange for my suggesting two Filipino poets for him to include
in a journal that he is working on. Upon hearing that I was planning to go back home, he called up a Philippine National Artist,
the novelist F. Sionil Jose, to arrange a meeting with me. Of course, I have to deliver to Jose an offbeat present in the
form of roast duck --'wonder how I'll slip it through customs. Indeed, I'm meeting very interesting people.
completing a chapter for the dissert. I've caught World Cup fever (not by choice), since my housemates (including 2 Spaniards
and 1 Mexican) watch the matches whenever they're on at night. The past two nights (semifinals), we've had supper in front
of the TV. It was Blessed Josemaria's death anniversary yesterday-- you could ask God's help through his intercession for
your needs. Several residents of the center and I are going on our own one-week silent retreat in Johor starting on Sat.
I'm still reading about Flannery O'Connor and analyzing her short story "Revelation" for a section of a chapter
of the dissertation. She wrote through her bout with lupus (as well as kept a pad and pencil under her pillow) until she died
in 1964: "the doctor wouldn't let her work, but it was all right to write a little fiction." What passion for work! Then again,
her consciousness of mortality was a big spur. As one of her outlaw characters said about a protagonist in "A Good Man Is
Hard to Find," "She would of been a good woman ... if it had been somebody there to shoot her every minute of her life."
Fri, an East German LLM student invited me to a barbecue with his classmates at the West Coast park (beside a murky beach)
at night. I bought 4 packs of potato chips and 4 mini Pepsi bottles and was at the meeting place (the entrance of the biggest
on-campus residence hall) almost on the dot at 8pm (I've learned from previous appointments with Germans not to be too late).
Going against stereotype, the German and the other law students trickled in about ten minutes later.
The group couldn't fit it one car, so a Singaporean volunteered to drive me, an Indian, a South African and a mainland Chinese
to the barbecue site. After initially skirting the park (and reaching the highway instead of the beach), we made it to a cluster
of benches close to an unused pit. We waited for about an hour for the rest to arrive by taxi. We munched my potato chips,
drank Pepsi or some Tiger beer, which the cigarette-smoking Indian brought. I parroted jokes from email services. The law
students, mostly in their late 20s, are a clever, generally wholesome bunch. They debated about China's right to annex Tibet
and US inolvement in Singapore. The South African volunteered info that he's a Presbyterian and abides by strict moral principles.
It was just too bad that I had to leave soon after in order to collect my bags from the law
lib before it closed. 'Didn't make it on time for that, but was able to get my things early the next day. I now spend lunches
or snack breaks with a few of those who had turned up for the barbecue.
I've completed a study of
my second Chaucer tale, "The Physician's Tale," which is a hagiographical story of a prototypical Christian martyr in a pagan
Roman setting: its double message is "the betrayal of innocence is the worst evil" coupled with "Forsake your sins, or your
sins will forsake you." I showed that it is possible to use St. Augustine's interpretive concepts to gain a fuller understanding
of the neglected story.
I'm moving on to research into my fourth Flannery O'Connor story, "Revelation."
Work on a well-established canonical writer such as Chaucer is really draining: the effort I expend on one of his stories
is equivalent to that on three by O'Connor. I lightened up a bit last Sat night with people at the center by watching Lars
von Trier's "Dancer in the Dark" starring Bjork. It's a disturbing film also about a Christian martyr type who realizes that
life is not just another musical.
The sole of my right foot had had blisters for over two
weeks, and they spread to the toes early this week. I immediately remembered my late grandma, a diabetic, who had blisters
that took time to heal. Also, I felt more thirsty and tired more easily, two other telltale signs of diabetes (That was around
the submission of a dissertation chapter to my supervisors). I devoured online info on diabetes.
After abstaining from softdrinks and sweet desserts/snacks for at least a couple of days, I rushed to the school infirmary
to ask the resident doctor to recommend either a foot or diabetes specialist whom I could consult. I nervously told him that
I might have diabetes-induced gangrene of the foot. He looked at my foot and said I should not worry: I had fungal infection,
not diabetes. I breathed more freely.
After three days of medication, my right foot still
hurts, but the blisters have started to heal. I've learned the pointlessness of resorting to hysteria without adequate facts.
I've also bought a new pair of loose-fitting casual leathers.
This year, I might attend the
Easter mass service in our chapel at home. The recession has dried up funds for literature conference grants, so I'm still
using the computer at the law lib instead of reading a paper at the Anglo-Am College of Prague.
had a blast on Pros (a housemate)'s birthday on the 17th. We had a ritual explosion of fireworks (Singapore-speak for sparklers)
as a barong-clad resident brought back memories with a rendition of "I Want to Hold YOur Hand." The living room was decked
with balloons, Pros's pictures and a banner with birthday greetings in several languages.The tribute program also featured
the Singapore premiere of a retrospective video on members of Opus Dei in the Philippines from the 70s in black-and-white
Kodak to the turn of the millenium in color, wide-angle videocam.
Medieval pilgrims on the way to Santiago
de Compostella in Spain were awestruck by the sight of the distant shrine as they traversed the surrounding hilly terrain.
When they climbed an elevation, they would catch a glimpse of the shrine's spires. When they descended toward a plain, they
lost sight of them. Such is our experience on the tortuous road back to our heavenly home and father. Some of us wear shades,
others eyepatches that keep us from taking in the full view of the shrine.
Maybe, like Frodo
in the popular children's classic Lord of the Rings, we didn't ask for any eyegear, and all we need is to work on taking it
I had a very
sedate birthday as befitting someone jaded (I feel I peaked physically last year). I may have only about a decade or so to
try to contribute to the flourishing of humanity, so it's time to fill life with others.
I helped with a retreat for
professionals in Johor. The six participants are exemplars of the local Catholic community. One is the head catechist for
all the school-aged kids in his parish (he's also a vp in a software company). Another used to be the president of his parish's
Legion of Mary(he failed in business thrice but is full of hope). One other participant is a teacher and part-time magician
(two compatible jobs). Two others are brothers suffering from a blood deficiency syndrome called thalassemia. They are like
human hummigbirds: they have to eat twice as much as the average person and need to be kept constantly in an airconditioned
environment. Their doctor told them that they could live only up to age 12; the elder one is 36. Because of their disease,
they are very spiritual and seem to relish every word of the rosary that they recite. Their mother has picked a wife for the
elder one by asking ship attendants during a trip if any of them is Catholic and single. One of them fits that bill: a Filipina
who has been praying to find, it has turned out, a good husband.
This multiethnic society celebrated
the close of Ramadan, Eidl Fitr, with a holiday last Monday. Many Moslems donned shiny, bright-colored traditional clothes
(as Filipinos do on Christmas). It was a break from daily self-renunciation (symbolized by and imposed with the fast).
Most of the residents went on a sports cum picnic. Two of us were on the road for an hour in the hope of taking a dip in a
pool (my first time since summer; the first pool we went to was closed because of a recent attack on swimmers by a swarm of
swimmer-hating bees, the second one was open and, ironically, near the house). A heavy downpour fell earlier in the morning,
with the result that there were only two other adults and four kids in the pool. After lunch at KFC, I met a Filipino friend
for an Omnimax screening of NASA's space shuttle and Hubble telescope programs. The documentary features breathtaking footage
of space shuttles taken in space as the brown outline of Africa streamed past below. It was eerily beautiful. The film also
shows sweeping vistas of the Venusian and Martian landscapes.
I went on a weeklong spiritual
retreat in Ulu Tiram, Johor. I've realized that this year has been a milestone. I am as old as Jesus when He bore His passion
and death. It was also around that age when St. Augustine, to whom I look up for his erudition and holiness, underwent conversion.
The catastrophic events of Sept 11 have made me very much aware of the need for starting anew. I am resolving to do my daily
prayer in the most proper conditions.
A few days before that, I organized a get-together for the research students
in the department. We had a riotous time (See this page: http://www.geocities.com/ericvalles/langandlitparty1.html ).
I've just come back from a successful presentation at the Central New York Conference on Language and Literature
(formerly called "The Hudson MLA") at the State University of New York campus in Cortland, N.Y.. I read a paper on an Augustinian
reading of Chaucer's Pardoner's Tale. The audience included the conference director, Dr. Janet Wolf, who sat in for
only my presentation (three presentations were scheduled) at the Chaucer panel session (Session 4.3). The other panelists,
both tenured professors (one at Boston University and the other at SUNY Plattsburgh), expressed interest in my take on divergent
readings of the Pardoner's moral state during the open forum. I was jittery, but I managed to hold my own. The panel session
details are on page 12 of this program:
Signac and Pieter Bruegel the Elder are going on at New York City's Metropolitan Museum. People from all over the world still
stroll up and down Park Ave and other Manhattan streets. Con men try to dupe people at the Westside bus terminal. With visibly
tighter security, NYC life goes on. Fearful of a sarin attack on Halloween, I avoided the subway and walked from the Greyhound
terminal on 41st St to the Met on 81st. It took me over one hour one-way. Autumn in central NY is beautiful: There is a melding
of reds, golds, greens and greys that people who are surrounded by tropical green can only imagine. Autumn, I think, gives
a deeper, fuller shade to life. I'm glad to have experienced it.
I've clinched a scholarship
from the university and, so, will be on my way to the conference in the Big Apple next month. Boundless opportunities exist
for talent, but nothing like sheer hardwork can bring that talent to full development.
I wrote letters to everyone
who counted about applying for a conference grant and, even better, a scholarship (the graduate studies representative had
told me that I was eligible to apply for one from the university). I even emailed the NUS vice chancellor about reconsidering
the cap on graduate students' conference allotments. 'Didn't receive a reply from him, but the faculty vice dean wrote to
say that the school is unable to "exercise the kind of flexibility that you desire." A week after that, the grad studies rep
sent email about the scholarship application.
In the light of the terror attacks in the US, I hope justice would be
meted out swiftly with divine help. But more than that, I pray that people would be gifted with the understanding that, like
Our Lord's death, the grief and suffering of the moment, in the long run, might not be all that bad.
The terror attacks
and the possibility of other airplane hijacks in future are helping me work out a conversion of sorts at work and in my dealings
with people. Every new day is an anticipation of heaven.
||Where to next?
||Blast from the Past (1993-1999)
||Millennium Journal (Jan to July)
||Lang and Lit Party photos