mmmm, here comes the goodies, hehehehe. masiramum ada an laman sadi na cooler a, kitaa baya an ngirit ni rino nan franz!sa masunod ulit mga padi!
Saturday, July 22, 2006
Goodies!!!!!
mmmm, here comes the goodies, hehehehe. masiramum ada an laman sadi na cooler a, kitaa baya an ngirit ni rino nan franz!sa masunod ulit mga padi!
Tuesday, July 18, 2006
Saturday, July 15, 2006
More Pics from the June 17-18, 2006 Reunion
June 17, 2006
Gabby, Dave and Rene having a light moment in front of the Visitor's Room while waiting for the mass to start
It's the last thing we'd want ourselves dragged into, but why can't we resist "scandals?"
And they have become a staple in our reunions, huh!
Nice pose, Dave!
Let's take a closer look at Weewee. Looks like he's now in the second movement of the Moonlight Sonata here. Nakaturog daw kamo Franz?
June 18, 2006 Breakfast before breaking up for home.
Gabby, Dave and Rene having a light moment in front of the Visitor's Room while waiting for the mass to start
It's the last thing we'd want ourselves dragged into, but why can't we resist "scandals?"
And they have become a staple in our reunions, huh!
Nice pose, Dave!
Let's take a closer look at Weewee. Looks like he's now in the second movement of the Moonlight Sonata here. Nakaturog daw kamo Franz?
June 18, 2006 Breakfast before breaking up for home.
Friday, July 14, 2006
Get well soon Gabby!
mga padi, gabby is presently hospitalized coz he somehow caught the dengue virus. no word on the state of his condition yet but it seems its not scarely serious yet.
lets pray for his quick recovery. and do text him from time to time --just to lift his spirits up. hospital is a nasty, boring place to be ya know!
and mga padi be on the look out na for dengue rin lalo na sa mga anak natin at medyo mahirap ma-dengue ngayon
some tips on dengue prevention here and here
siya get well fast gabby!
FATHERHOOD
My dad, me and my son
YAYES
(I do not consider myself a writer, yet I am flattered by your comments and encouragement to continue writing. If priesthood is my first love, writing comes second and teaching ranks third……..oh great brown God I hope my wife does not see this! I have promised myself never to write a sad story. I want you to laugh when you read the words I write, perhaps listen to the child inside me as it tries to speak to that little child in you. Today I beg for an exemption.)
I am the son of my father. I am the father of my son.
In nomine padre …………….
My dad is ED BASARES the overachiever: an academician, an administrator, a broadcaster, a politician and a lawyer. He started as a classroom teacher even before I entered my first grade in school, and by the time I did he was already the school principal. He later moved on to become a College Dean, Director for Student Affairs and Vice President for Administration. He capped his scholarly record with two baccalaureate degrees, two masteral (including his Bachelor of Laws) and a doctorate in Education. In his short stint in government service he was a recipient of several Certificates of Merit. In the broadcast industry, he was rated number one radio commentator in the province and earned the monicker from his peers as the DEAN OF BROADCAST MEDIA in Sorsogon. When he entered politics in 1992 he was classified as a sure winner albeit they used a different parameter when counting the votes. He has continued to be present in every electoral process since then and has refused to acknowledge defeat. When I saw him in 1997 after years of absence I was shocked at how old he had become, yet he has refused to fade into retirement. Well, I still have to meet a politician who does not consider himself immortal. My father became a lawyer in 2002 . To date he is practicing his law profession.
Et fili……..
It was hard growing up under his shadow.
I was only in grade four when he required me to learn journalism as he imposed on me to read and re-write the news from the newspapers. Reading was a habit he instilled upon me that no book or magazine from his library was missed. Yet he left me alone to learn. No grade in the line of seven was acceptable to him as he monitored mine every grading period. Bad English for him was and is a mortal sin. I finished my elementary grades with honors and he was there.
I told him I would enter the seminary. He was not surprised. Two instances I remember well of how proud he was during my seminary years--
one when I was assigned to serve an acolyte to the Bishop one Sunday during our summer break, and two when he “gave” me to Fr. Ding Caindec after I became his official acolyte every time Fr Ding would say mass outside the seminary. He never wanted me to become a priest as I am his only son and eldest at that. Yet he acknowledged my identity and duties then as a seminarian as he allowed me to spend days in the parish especially during the Lenten season. Somehow he attributed my decision to leave the seminary when Fr Ding left for Rome on my second year. To a certain degree he was right for Fr. Ding was more like a second father to me.
When I was in second year college (outside the seminary), knowing I had long turned my back on the norms and values of a seminarian, and while he was station manager of DZMS, he secretly invited Fr Ding, then back from Rome, to say mass and compelled me to attend. I cried a lot at Fr Ding’s shoulder.
My dad is a strict disciplinarian and hard on his children, hardest on me. Sometimes I suspect I was his favorite whipping bag. He is a distant father. It is easy for him to shower praises on his students against whom I pale in comparison, albeit he spends most of his nights wondering if he has made me wrong or what in heavens name a curse has fallen upon me.
While sometimes I envied some of his students it was easy for me to understand: ED BASARES is a father to his students, a teacher to his son. And I grew up looking for a father.
It was always a love-hate relationship between us as he perpetually tried to control me during the times I was uncontrollable and stubbornly refused to do so at times I needed it most. He is never satisfied with what I can do yet secretly confides to his friends his amazement with the little things I have managed to do.
These days everytime I go home, I spend all my time with my kids playing with them after school and I would see him secretly watching, perhaps wondering why. But by all means he is a doting lolo.
ED BASARES will always be ED BASARES. He has fought his battle and emerged victorious from it, all by himself as he grew up an orphan. He has carved his destiny and earned the respect of others with no one beside him and with nothing but pure guts and determination.
et mi fili
My son was born in 1995. I had always wanted a son. For five years he was my only child. To date he is about to enter his adolescence period. And I fear so much that he would commit the same mistakes I did. My only wish and prayer for my son is for him to live a different life from mine. So I refused to cast a shadow on him and gave him a different name. At bedtime and away from the ears of his mom he would tell me stories about his girl classmates and, oh God here it goes. Four occasions my son would never miss--my birthday, his birthday, his siblings birthday, and his mom’s birthday.
I know I will never verbally have the chance to tell my dad I HAVE ALWAYS BEEN PROUD OF HIM. It is my hope that just being a father to my own son would speak louder than words.
For the son comes from the father.
In some instances the rock speaks because it is silent, the sand moves because it is still.
The sad story shall continue on and on. Until like my dad, in his career path, it will arrive…..
………….at a time which is not a time,
………….at a place which is not a place.
My dad, me and my son
YAYES
(I do not consider myself a writer, yet I am flattered by your comments and encouragement to continue writing. If priesthood is my first love, writing comes second and teaching ranks third……..oh great brown God I hope my wife does not see this! I have promised myself never to write a sad story. I want you to laugh when you read the words I write, perhaps listen to the child inside me as it tries to speak to that little child in you. Today I beg for an exemption.)
I am the son of my father. I am the father of my son.
In nomine padre …………….
My dad is ED BASARES the overachiever: an academician, an administrator, a broadcaster, a politician and a lawyer. He started as a classroom teacher even before I entered my first grade in school, and by the time I did he was already the school principal. He later moved on to become a College Dean, Director for Student Affairs and Vice President for Administration. He capped his scholarly record with two baccalaureate degrees, two masteral (including his Bachelor of Laws) and a doctorate in Education. In his short stint in government service he was a recipient of several Certificates of Merit. In the broadcast industry, he was rated number one radio commentator in the province and earned the monicker from his peers as the DEAN OF BROADCAST MEDIA in Sorsogon. When he entered politics in 1992 he was classified as a sure winner albeit they used a different parameter when counting the votes. He has continued to be present in every electoral process since then and has refused to acknowledge defeat. When I saw him in 1997 after years of absence I was shocked at how old he had become, yet he has refused to fade into retirement. Well, I still have to meet a politician who does not consider himself immortal. My father became a lawyer in 2002 . To date he is practicing his law profession.
Et fili……..
It was hard growing up under his shadow.
I was only in grade four when he required me to learn journalism as he imposed on me to read and re-write the news from the newspapers. Reading was a habit he instilled upon me that no book or magazine from his library was missed. Yet he left me alone to learn. No grade in the line of seven was acceptable to him as he monitored mine every grading period. Bad English for him was and is a mortal sin. I finished my elementary grades with honors and he was there.
I told him I would enter the seminary. He was not surprised. Two instances I remember well of how proud he was during my seminary years--
one when I was assigned to serve an acolyte to the Bishop one Sunday during our summer break, and two when he “gave” me to Fr. Ding Caindec after I became his official acolyte every time Fr Ding would say mass outside the seminary. He never wanted me to become a priest as I am his only son and eldest at that. Yet he acknowledged my identity and duties then as a seminarian as he allowed me to spend days in the parish especially during the Lenten season. Somehow he attributed my decision to leave the seminary when Fr Ding left for Rome on my second year. To a certain degree he was right for Fr. Ding was more like a second father to me.
When I was in second year college (outside the seminary), knowing I had long turned my back on the norms and values of a seminarian, and while he was station manager of DZMS, he secretly invited Fr Ding, then back from Rome, to say mass and compelled me to attend. I cried a lot at Fr Ding’s shoulder.
My dad is a strict disciplinarian and hard on his children, hardest on me. Sometimes I suspect I was his favorite whipping bag. He is a distant father. It is easy for him to shower praises on his students against whom I pale in comparison, albeit he spends most of his nights wondering if he has made me wrong or what in heavens name a curse has fallen upon me.
While sometimes I envied some of his students it was easy for me to understand: ED BASARES is a father to his students, a teacher to his son. And I grew up looking for a father.
It was always a love-hate relationship between us as he perpetually tried to control me during the times I was uncontrollable and stubbornly refused to do so at times I needed it most. He is never satisfied with what I can do yet secretly confides to his friends his amazement with the little things I have managed to do.
These days everytime I go home, I spend all my time with my kids playing with them after school and I would see him secretly watching, perhaps wondering why. But by all means he is a doting lolo.
ED BASARES will always be ED BASARES. He has fought his battle and emerged victorious from it, all by himself as he grew up an orphan. He has carved his destiny and earned the respect of others with no one beside him and with nothing but pure guts and determination.
et mi fili
My son was born in 1995. I had always wanted a son. For five years he was my only child. To date he is about to enter his adolescence period. And I fear so much that he would commit the same mistakes I did. My only wish and prayer for my son is for him to live a different life from mine. So I refused to cast a shadow on him and gave him a different name. At bedtime and away from the ears of his mom he would tell me stories about his girl classmates and, oh God here it goes. Four occasions my son would never miss--my birthday, his birthday, his siblings birthday, and his mom’s birthday.
I know I will never verbally have the chance to tell my dad I HAVE ALWAYS BEEN PROUD OF HIM. It is my hope that just being a father to my own son would speak louder than words.
For the son comes from the father.
In some instances the rock speaks because it is silent, the sand moves because it is still.
The sad story shall continue on and on. Until like my dad, in his career path, it will arrive…..
………….at a time which is not a time,
………….at a place which is not a place.
Tuesday, July 11, 2006
June 17-18, 2006 Reunion Pictures
Was this the first meeting between Val and Dave after 20 years or so?Val couldn't help giving Dave a big hug upon the latter's arrival at our "home away from home." Dave chose to sleep in his home at San Roque on the night the Manila Contingent arrived since he was tasked with fetching Tyrone at the Legazpi Airport early the next morning. A last-minute change of plan, however, saw Tivo picking up Tyrone on his way from Naga to Sorsogon.
Garanghawan in the morning of June 17, 2006, just before breakfast. Franz who arrived days before the reunion and stayed with relatives in Casiguran came by his lonesome.[Funny that Jason and Franz, who arrived within an hour of each other, seemed to have forgotten that one was only a text away and they could have given each other a helping hand in the hauling of the half-sack of rice, the 5 kilos of Alimusan and the crabs that Jason brought from Casiguran. Pero, masiramon an alimusan, Padi Jason. Magdara ka uli next reunion.]
Rene, who lives in a nearby subdivision, showed up at almost the same time.
I have no idea what came upon Rino and Gabby. What were the scarves for? (he he he)
UCPB Bank Account
Mga Padi,
Reminder lang. Please deposit your share capital contributions to the the bank account above before July 15, 2006.
Junie
Wednesday, July 05, 2006
Monday, July 03, 2006
Saturday, July 01, 2006
Tuesday, June 27, 2006
Tyrone's plane
rino emailed these cellphone pix when they checked out tyrone's plane at the legazpi airport
the original pix was dark and blurry and after some adjustments in photoshop out came jason hehehe feeling piloto dito. bagay man gayud padi. magpaturo ka kan tyrone :-)
tyrone's recently acquired cessna
Monday, June 26, 2006
Sunday, June 25, 2006
Welcome Home, Victor Andrew A. Montaño
Finally, we have established contact with our long-lost classmate. Let's drink to this!
Here's the email he sent me on Saturday, June 24, 2006
Junie,
Am I eligible for the start up business venture that batch 86 are planning to organize. If I am eligible, how do I join and how can I deposit the required amount of investment. I am out of the country and out of touch from our class for many years. But Fr. Gerry initiated the contact and now I can follow events from the net.
Victor Andrew
Here's the email he sent me on Saturday, June 24, 2006
Junie,
Am I eligible for the start up business venture that batch 86 are planning to organize. If I am eligible, how do I join and how can I deposit the required amount of investment. I am out of the country and out of touch from our class for many years. But Fr. Gerry initiated the contact and now I can follow events from the net.
Victor Andrew
STAND TALL STAND PROUD MONS. PAX
yayes
Our seminary before was run like a well oiled machine; precise and on the dot in every scheduled activity. The Father Rector, Mons. Pax, herded his flock and made them follow a strict regimen day in and day out giving emphasis on punctuality. The moment we rose until the time we retired we already knew what to follow, how to do things, and where to do them.
His authority on our lives was not confined within its walls for even as we went home we were required to serve the parish.
To our young minds then, discipline and order was a fearsome image. We sulked in corners whenever Mons. Pax made his rounds with that patented clinking of keys as he walked down the corridor; always fearful of what mistake we might have made or what he might find in us. There was fear in hearing his booming voice, his sharp stare was enough to make us toe the line. Order and discipline was Mons. Pax's daily menu. He became the personification of authority every one at our age loved to hate.
Obedience from a young mind is borne out of fear for its penalty but no mind remains young forever the moment it realizes wisdom. The time when wisdom takes over has come. The young men who loved to hate order and discipline grew up and rose from the immaturity and selfishness characteristic of its age to awaken in a deep sense of gratitude and sincere admiration of Mons. Pax.
His passion for order and discipline is well served for its purpose. It is admirable how he made us felt the pride. There was pride in the uniform, there was pride in our language, there was pride in our acts, there was pride in our identity.
For one, we only went home once a month then spending much of our time during weekends at the study hall and in housecleaning. And when we went home at the end of the month, we spent much time serving the parish.
Every Saturday Mons. Pax never absented himself from his routine round. The seminary must be spotlessly cleaned as he inspected every nook and corner. Everybody had his own assignment to clean, his own area of responsibility. It was our home, its cleanliness was our responsibility was the standing dictum. It was where we learned to accept responsibility in a communal spirit. Home visit was at the end of the month and before we left the Rector saw to it to instill in our minds that we were going out not for vacation. The community was an extension of our lives, we were to report to our respective parishes and serve. There was always a reminder on how we were expected to behave outside. The moment we left we carry our identity with us with dignity and pride.
Second, enrollment during our time was never a problem as the number of freshmen to go in had to be trimmed down based on the available facilities. Mons. Pax sales pitch on vocation campaigns was simple: GUSTO MO MAGING GWAPO ENTER OLPS! Gwapo each and every seminarian became because like raw materials we were cut into refined pieces of jewel. From the haircut to the clothes we wore, the words and manner we spoke, all bore the distinct identity of being seminarians that every parent in the community shared the pride of having a son in the seminary.
Third, we spent much of our weekends studying. We had two hours study period in the morning, another two hours in the afternoon, and two hours again in the evening. Once in making his rounds during study period he caught one lazy soul excusing himself with "I'm done with my assignment." Mons Pax was quick to answer: "KAY NANO, MADUNONG KA NA?" Knowledge as he always emphasized is an infinite world to conquer.
As the Chinese proverb says it: If you want to be remembered do either of these three; plant a tree, write a book, father a son. Mons. Pax will always be remembered by his seminarians. He planted trees in our hearts and minds some of which already bore fruit. He has written a book whose pages are written in the lives of his seminarians filled with the wisdom of his words. He has fathered us all with his brand of discipline and order that we carry the pride of sharing them to our children.
In my first article here I declared I wanted my son to enter OLPS. I am still finding it hard to convince him, so I told him, "OK, son, we wait until Mons Pax returns to the seminary."
Take your bow Monsignor Pax, we are grateful for the discipline.
Our seminary before was run like a well oiled machine; precise and on the dot in every scheduled activity. The Father Rector, Mons. Pax, herded his flock and made them follow a strict regimen day in and day out giving emphasis on punctuality. The moment we rose until the time we retired we already knew what to follow, how to do things, and where to do them.
His authority on our lives was not confined within its walls for even as we went home we were required to serve the parish.
To our young minds then, discipline and order was a fearsome image. We sulked in corners whenever Mons. Pax made his rounds with that patented clinking of keys as he walked down the corridor; always fearful of what mistake we might have made or what he might find in us. There was fear in hearing his booming voice, his sharp stare was enough to make us toe the line. Order and discipline was Mons. Pax's daily menu. He became the personification of authority every one at our age loved to hate.
Obedience from a young mind is borne out of fear for its penalty but no mind remains young forever the moment it realizes wisdom. The time when wisdom takes over has come. The young men who loved to hate order and discipline grew up and rose from the immaturity and selfishness characteristic of its age to awaken in a deep sense of gratitude and sincere admiration of Mons. Pax.
His passion for order and discipline is well served for its purpose. It is admirable how he made us felt the pride. There was pride in the uniform, there was pride in our language, there was pride in our acts, there was pride in our identity.
For one, we only went home once a month then spending much of our time during weekends at the study hall and in housecleaning. And when we went home at the end of the month, we spent much time serving the parish.
Every Saturday Mons. Pax never absented himself from his routine round. The seminary must be spotlessly cleaned as he inspected every nook and corner. Everybody had his own assignment to clean, his own area of responsibility. It was our home, its cleanliness was our responsibility was the standing dictum. It was where we learned to accept responsibility in a communal spirit. Home visit was at the end of the month and before we left the Rector saw to it to instill in our minds that we were going out not for vacation. The community was an extension of our lives, we were to report to our respective parishes and serve. There was always a reminder on how we were expected to behave outside. The moment we left we carry our identity with us with dignity and pride.
Second, enrollment during our time was never a problem as the number of freshmen to go in had to be trimmed down based on the available facilities. Mons. Pax sales pitch on vocation campaigns was simple: GUSTO MO MAGING GWAPO ENTER OLPS! Gwapo each and every seminarian became because like raw materials we were cut into refined pieces of jewel. From the haircut to the clothes we wore, the words and manner we spoke, all bore the distinct identity of being seminarians that every parent in the community shared the pride of having a son in the seminary.
Third, we spent much of our weekends studying. We had two hours study period in the morning, another two hours in the afternoon, and two hours again in the evening. Once in making his rounds during study period he caught one lazy soul excusing himself with "I'm done with my assignment." Mons Pax was quick to answer: "KAY NANO, MADUNONG KA NA?" Knowledge as he always emphasized is an infinite world to conquer.
As the Chinese proverb says it: If you want to be remembered do either of these three; plant a tree, write a book, father a son. Mons. Pax will always be remembered by his seminarians. He planted trees in our hearts and minds some of which already bore fruit. He has written a book whose pages are written in the lives of his seminarians filled with the wisdom of his words. He has fathered us all with his brand of discipline and order that we carry the pride of sharing them to our children.
In my first article here I declared I wanted my son to enter OLPS. I am still finding it hard to convince him, so I told him, "OK, son, we wait until Mons Pax returns to the seminary."
Take your bow Monsignor Pax, we are grateful for the discipline.
Thursday, June 22, 2006
Sunday, June 18, 2006
Thursday, June 15, 2006
Biyaheng Bikol - Southroad Update
from rino:
Sked on Friday, June 16, 2006 - Trip to OLPS Bikol
Departure: 8 am
Meeting Place: MC Home Depot Parking Area ( below MRT Mantrade/Magallanes Station
6 pm: Dinner at Atty. Tivo's home in Naga City... off to Sorsogon after
ps. bring lots of STORIES and SNACKS for the long trip :-)
pls. call rino for updates
Sked on Friday, June 16, 2006 - Trip to OLPS Bikol
Departure: 8 am
Meeting Place: MC Home Depot Parking Area ( below MRT Mantrade/Magallanes Station
6 pm: Dinner at Atty. Tivo's home in Naga City... off to Sorsogon after
ps. bring lots of STORIES and SNACKS for the long trip :-)
pls. call rino for updates
Wednesday, June 14, 2006
Fighting Over the Queen
What made the Turin Chess Olympics memorable was the duel between Armenia and England. Not on the chess board, but on the dance floor. GMs Danny Gromally of England and Levon Aronian of Armenia got in tangles with each other over Australian No. 3 Arianne Caoili. And get this, her father is pinoy.
Gromally was very fond of 19 year-old Caoili. When Gromally saw Aronian dancing with her, he punched and shoved the Armenian literally flooring the poor guy. It didn't end there. Later, a few Armenian players attacked Gromally to avenge Aronian.
So who's this half-pinoy whom they fought over? She's dubbed as the Anna Kournikova of chess, some blogs devoted to chess even calls her the "chess babe." She's a contestant in the World Chess Beauty Contest (vote for her). Of her achievements, she surprised everyone when she played during the 1996 US Open in Alexandria, Virginia at 9 years old. She's currently rated at 2169. A Woman International Master, the Turin Chess Olympiad was her first international title. She needs two more of these to be a GM. Many observers noted that her game plateaued in the previous tournaments but suddenly picked up at Turin. If her achievements don't impress you, then check her pic.
Monday, June 12, 2006
YellowCab Meetup
A group pic after the quick meetup. not included is tyrone who left early as he was preparing to leave for the US that night.we met up in makati with gojie who wasnt able to attend the meeting as he had a class that day. while wiron wasnt able to come as he was rehearsing his choir
Its good to meet up with franz and moonvale who i hadnt seen in twenty two years or so. franz has bulked up a bit --on track to becoming the next mr. philippines yata :=) while moonvale is in his hippie grunge best :-)
For the meeting on the 17th in Sorsogon. Rino will bring his car so magcarpool na lang ulit. Most will come but we still have to finalize the list.
Saturday, June 10, 2006
Love
can't resist posting this cute pix of tyrone and his lovely wife, maricris.
this is off the flickr set that collins uploaded earlier today. very nice pix taken by collins --pwede ka na padi mag interior design photographer :-)
anybody pala willing to donate a flckr account? costs $25 (1 year) or $50 (2 years)
i can't buy coz they only accept paypal and they don't accept philippine issued credit cards
hey mervs, pwede ba? hehehe
Thursday, June 08, 2006
Tuesday, June 06, 2006
ASBAG
Edgar A. Basares Jr.
I am working in the transport industry being an HR Manager of a private bus company based in Dasmarinas, Cavite. Our units traverse the Navotas – Palapala (Dasmarinas) route from 4:00 am to 2:00 am seven days a week. Caviteños knew us well, residents of Dasmarinas in particular, from being the only transport group granted the Permit to operate along said route – to their convenience, and also because of the times they have to transfer when our buses are stuck in the middle of the road due to engine failure and other technical problems and the times they have to open the windows because of malfunctioning aircon system – to their irritation.
I am handling 278 employees 95% of which are males 82% are drivers and conductors. I live inside the garage, a one hectare property where I also hold office. All employees are covered with Personal Accident Insurance, drivers and conductors received one of the highest commission in the industry, along side these is a pabahay project, scholarship for their deserving kids, medical assistance which extends to the family members, bonuses and allowances for drivers and conductors.
Because I live inside the garage, on several occasions I have been roused from bed at 1:00 am to break a fight between employees carrying lead pipes and fan knives. Many a times, I have to rush an employee to a hospital either bleeding from a fight or suffering from impatso and attend to his needs. On one occasion again ran like hell to a hospital 14 kilometers away at 12 midnight because we had the misfortune of having a passenger who just came from caesarean delivery and was suffering from post CRS trauma, and I have to babysit her. All problems of our employees land on my desk, from their arrears with the availed housing loan, to damages incurred by a nearby bar where our employees have had a fight after a drinking spree, to demands for financial support from B2 while trying to pacify B1 at the other room.
In general, my job is to pick up their loose diapers and expect not even a word of thank or a note of appreciation.
And the prevailing norms and traits; employees swear as fast as they chew food, brags on their sexcapades as if only they knew how, they refuses to be controlled and resist all forms of authority and would often challenge you to a fight once you impose disciplinary actions. I have one applicant who threatened to kill me if I do not approve his application. I did not, and sent him home and the last I heard of is his scratching his head and trying to figure out what hit him while I continue to function in my duties and responsibilities.
We call it ASBAG. It is their lingo for ARROGANCE. They would bluff the hell out of you and if you stammer you’re dead. It emanates from the culture of the road they assimilate every day; on how they would bluff their way out from traffic violations, false promises of seats available to entice passengers to come in, and the swerving and crisscrossing on the street to get passengers ahead of other drivers. When they disembark they continue to carry in them such trait and values. It’s a way of life for them.
I am expected to create miracles yet I’m no saint and far from being one. At the end of each day I am dog tired yet could not sleep, mentally fatigued and exhausted but still alert for any eventuality whether inside the garage or on the road.
Of all my jobs before this is the least rewarding in terms of salary. The temptation to abandon ship and transfer remains a daily option. Yet I continue to hold on.
To me the dilemma is between financial rewards as fruits of my industry, dedication and initiative – which I can never have in this company inasmuch as I am not a kapuso neither am I a kapamilya, versus the joy and contentment of work brought about by the trust and confidence of my boss – which I may not have in another company.
My everyday routine is a challenge. You solve a problem today but it will resurrect again tomorrow maybe with a different face but it is the same dog. It is a vicious cycle exhausting and tiring. In general whenever we tend to move forward we also shoot our best foot ahead.
Yet the biggest challenge and what continues to motivate me in this job is how to make these people understand how the law operates. That it is not designed to restrain them but merely to regulate. And that the regulation is necessary for the common good. The challenge is a tall mountain to climb, but like all mountains it can be climbed. Reaching its summit is not my immediate goal rather an inch by inch improvement serves as my consolation. The problems would forever be there, in a never-ending cycle but looking around with the progress we made towards maturity gives me the strength to go on.
And oh by the way, if ever you meet me don’t call me manager, ‘ger would be just fine since there is no money.
Edgar A. Basares Jr.
I am working in the transport industry being an HR Manager of a private bus company based in Dasmarinas, Cavite. Our units traverse the Navotas – Palapala (Dasmarinas) route from 4:00 am to 2:00 am seven days a week. Caviteños knew us well, residents of Dasmarinas in particular, from being the only transport group granted the Permit to operate along said route – to their convenience, and also because of the times they have to transfer when our buses are stuck in the middle of the road due to engine failure and other technical problems and the times they have to open the windows because of malfunctioning aircon system – to their irritation.
I am handling 278 employees 95% of which are males 82% are drivers and conductors. I live inside the garage, a one hectare property where I also hold office. All employees are covered with Personal Accident Insurance, drivers and conductors received one of the highest commission in the industry, along side these is a pabahay project, scholarship for their deserving kids, medical assistance which extends to the family members, bonuses and allowances for drivers and conductors.
Because I live inside the garage, on several occasions I have been roused from bed at 1:00 am to break a fight between employees carrying lead pipes and fan knives. Many a times, I have to rush an employee to a hospital either bleeding from a fight or suffering from impatso and attend to his needs. On one occasion again ran like hell to a hospital 14 kilometers away at 12 midnight because we had the misfortune of having a passenger who just came from caesarean delivery and was suffering from post CRS trauma, and I have to babysit her. All problems of our employees land on my desk, from their arrears with the availed housing loan, to damages incurred by a nearby bar where our employees have had a fight after a drinking spree, to demands for financial support from B2 while trying to pacify B1 at the other room.
In general, my job is to pick up their loose diapers and expect not even a word of thank or a note of appreciation.
And the prevailing norms and traits; employees swear as fast as they chew food, brags on their sexcapades as if only they knew how, they refuses to be controlled and resist all forms of authority and would often challenge you to a fight once you impose disciplinary actions. I have one applicant who threatened to kill me if I do not approve his application. I did not, and sent him home and the last I heard of is his scratching his head and trying to figure out what hit him while I continue to function in my duties and responsibilities.
We call it ASBAG. It is their lingo for ARROGANCE. They would bluff the hell out of you and if you stammer you’re dead. It emanates from the culture of the road they assimilate every day; on how they would bluff their way out from traffic violations, false promises of seats available to entice passengers to come in, and the swerving and crisscrossing on the street to get passengers ahead of other drivers. When they disembark they continue to carry in them such trait and values. It’s a way of life for them.
I am expected to create miracles yet I’m no saint and far from being one. At the end of each day I am dog tired yet could not sleep, mentally fatigued and exhausted but still alert for any eventuality whether inside the garage or on the road.
Of all my jobs before this is the least rewarding in terms of salary. The temptation to abandon ship and transfer remains a daily option. Yet I continue to hold on.
To me the dilemma is between financial rewards as fruits of my industry, dedication and initiative – which I can never have in this company inasmuch as I am not a kapuso neither am I a kapamilya, versus the joy and contentment of work brought about by the trust and confidence of my boss – which I may not have in another company.
My everyday routine is a challenge. You solve a problem today but it will resurrect again tomorrow maybe with a different face but it is the same dog. It is a vicious cycle exhausting and tiring. In general whenever we tend to move forward we also shoot our best foot ahead.
Yet the biggest challenge and what continues to motivate me in this job is how to make these people understand how the law operates. That it is not designed to restrain them but merely to regulate. And that the regulation is necessary for the common good. The challenge is a tall mountain to climb, but like all mountains it can be climbed. Reaching its summit is not my immediate goal rather an inch by inch improvement serves as my consolation. The problems would forever be there, in a never-ending cycle but looking around with the progress we made towards maturity gives me the strength to go on.
And oh by the way, if ever you meet me don’t call me manager, ‘ger would be just fine since there is no money.
Sunday, June 04, 2006
Thursday, June 01, 2006
Happy Birthday Jet!
Celebrated my bday in beautiful White Beach Sandbar in Camiguin Island with lots of grilled fish, Soju (korean wine) and a bit of kimchi :-) Then had a blast going whitewater rafting
so much fun to swim here in the sandbar
and get drenched rafting along cagayan river
Thursday, May 25, 2006
Minutes of the Corporate Meeting held at Tyrone's Residence in Doña Maria Luisa Park on May 21, 2006
In attendance:
Tyrone S. Tan, Rinofel Q. Coronel, Junnel M Relativo, Jason L. Balbedina, Edgar A. Basares Jr., Henri Arnulfo E. Deri, Eric G. Gojar, Domingo M. Lee III, and Faustino E. Taclan Jr.
The meeting started around 11:00 pm, with Tan presiding. At the outset, Tan broached the idea of the class taking on outreach programs, programs aimed at helping the more needy sectors of our society and programs that would contribute in the progress of our nation, as a way of giving back to the society and, at the same time, doing our part in nation-building.
The idea caught on and everyone agreed to raise funds through business ventures not only to finance the outreach projects but also to generate income for the individual members of the class. In furtherance of this objective, the group agreed on the following:
1. Form a corporation that will go into big business ventures like real estate development.
2. For the corporate identity, the following names (chosen by way of votation) will be submitted to the SEC for approval:
a) Maelstrom Trading Corporation (7 votes),
b) Maelstrom Incorporated (6 votes),
c) Maelstrom 86 Trading Corporation (5 votes),
d) Maelstrom Ventures Incorporated (5 votes), and
e) OLPS ’86 Corporation (5 votes).
3. The Corporation will have:
INVESTORS (the members who will take care of the financial requirements) and
INDUSTRIAL PARTNERS (those who will compose the administrative staff).
A member may choose to be both.
4. Tan, Relativo, Taclan, Coronel, Balbedina, Lee, and Gojar compose the Board of Directors.
Tan was elected Chairman of the Board;
Relativo, Corporate Secretary; and
Taclan, Treasurer.
Since everyone was in the dark on what the other positions were in a corporation, it was agreed that Balbedina, Lee, Gojar, and Coronel, in this order, would fill up such positions, if any, after Relativo has read up on corporate positions.
5. Members of the class who didn’t make it to the Cebu reunion would be sent letter-offers to join the corporation for its first venture alone since the offer of membership to each member of the batch stands for a lifetime. In a general assembly slated for June 17, 2006 at the OLPS, the members will be asked to give their final answers in writing to the offer of membership. Each member who has not joined the corporation is given the leverage to join in the succeeding ventures.
6. The group pegged the paid-up capital at ___ million, with Tan pledging to take care of the balance if the individual share capitals do not add up to that amount.
Relativo has committed P___, 000.00;
Taclan, P___, 000.00;
Coronel, P___, 000.00;
Balbedina, P___, 000.00;
Lee, P___, 000.00;
Gojar, P___, 000.00; and
Tan, P___, 000.00.
Tan’s share capital will decrease as pledges from classmates who didn’t attend the Cebu reunion but who would like to be part of the endeavour start coming in.
Priority of investment is enjoyed by classmates who have not made it big in life (meaning, Erwin, Kit, and Nono will not only be asked to step aside in favour of a “poorer” classmate if there is a shortage of investor slots but also be discouraged from putting too much money should no one else decide to invest in the ventures.)
7. Profit-sharing will be based on share capital.
8. The Treasurer should open a bank account at UCPB Sorsogon immediately upon arrival from Cebu. The board of directors will each have to deposit the 10% of their pledged share capital within this week. The remainder has to be in on the first week of July. Failure to give the total amount would mean forfeiture of the 10 % in favour of the Corporation.
9. Balbedina’s been appointed manager, with Deri and Basares as members of his staff. Upon arrival in Sorsogon, they will immediately get down to work: having the corporation registered, getting the business permits, scouting for prime lots, setting up the office, writing the sales pitch, etc.
The meeting adjourned at 1:30 am the following day, May 22, 2006.
May 18, 2006
Standing beside the ticket booth in Pilar, Sorsogon, shortly after learning that the 4-pm last trip of the fastcraft going to Masbate had gone two hours ahead of schedule. Athletes coming from the recently-concluded Palarong Pambansa in Naga City had descended upon Pilar and taken most of the seats of the fastcraft.
Allen, Samar
Getting our luggage into the LTO Service Vehicles for the long haul from Allen to Ormoc City. We were very lucky to bump into Mr. Edgar Cabase, Assistant Regional Director of LTO, inside the ferry boat from Matnog. With his officemates, he was transporting from Manila 3 brand-new Adventure Vans to Cebu. We hitched a ride, an 8-hour very bumpy ride to Ormoc City.
Trip to Cebu from Ormoc
On the ship that left Ormoc at 12 midnight. We stayed up until around 2 pm at the bow of the ship and went back inside only to find that people lay asleep on our Economy beds. Fortunately, we were able to find vacant seats inside the Jetseaters Room and slept there.
May 20, 2006
Finally, we arrived in Cebu. Here we are at the corner of the road leading to Pier 4 where we disembarked.
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