How island hopping can be depressing.

In three days I have been to three different cities in three different islands in three different modes of transportation. To make it clear enough that's off to the city of golden friendships by land, then to the queen city of the south by sea and finally to the city of smiles by air. From Iligan City I travelled to Cagayan de Oro then to Cebu and lastly to Bacolod.

 And then back.

My classmate and I were chosen to represent MSU-IIT in the 72nd Philippine Institute of Chemical Engineers National Convention (PIChE) National Student Congress 2011 Quiz Show in Colegio San Agustin in Bacolod City. They chose us because apparently my classmate is the top student in our class and probably because I often win in quiz show contests at home. There are three members in a team and our third member, a year behind us, once had an overall grade point average of 1.0000 (extend decimal place indefinitely). That just goes to show we were the best that the department could possibly gather.

But we lost.

My classmate and I have joined this for the second time already and the results are, well,the same. Last time we finished 8th place among 11 teams. This time, Tadaaa!! The 9th. Yes, we did not prepare because we thought, without ever learning from the first experience, that stock knowledge is enough. The next thing we realized, after hearing the questions, our stock knowledge is nowhere to be found. It had escaped us and the flow of thought balked at the sight of problems solvable in 120 seconds. One problem especially left me feeling queasy. It asked about the pH of a 0.5 M sodium acetate solution given that the hydrolysis constant is 5.8x10^-10. I went on getting the pH by equating the hydrolysis constant to the ratio of x² over (0.5)(1-x) and assuming x is very small compared to unity, neglected it in the denominator and went on solving for x. This is the concentration of the hydronium ions in the solution, and the negative logarithm of this is the pH. Brilliant.

Big mistake. Sodium acetate is not an acid and x should represent the concentration of hydroxide ions, not hydronium ions. Thus, the negative log gives the pOH and not pH. My answer, 4.77 is therefore utterly wrong. It should have been 14-4.77 or 9.23.

What's so depressing with this is that this is the first time in my quizzing history that I mustered the effort to solve a problem. Usually I leave that to my teammates and they leave the general knowledge and recalling skills to me. But when this question came I felt like having the moral responsibility whatever to answer it. I came a subtraction close but a concept too far. Depressing. The same thing happened to me last year when the question asked for the name of molecules that are mirror-images of one another, that is, chiral. I answered stereoisomers, but it is the larger group. I knew the question asked for a sub-group of stereoisomers but my memory failed me that time. I contemplated suicide after hearing the answer. Guess what, it's enantiomers.

Probably the reason I ace quiz shows at home is because the questions have categories. General Engineering, Physics, Chemistry, Biology, Current Events, Literature, and General information. In the student congress the categories were Gas Absorption, Reaction kinetics, Heat Transfer, Chemical Engineering Thermodynamics etc. I have always told everyone that I am not the brightest in the Chemineering majors and excellence in these fields almost always determines the winners of this competition. Nevertheless, it is flattering to be chosen again to represent the school. My classmate and I will be graduating this year and I have one advise to the subsequent quizzers:  Prepare and overprepare. The pattern of the questions recurs every year and the instructors have a copy of them.  Our fault is that we were too lenient with ourselves. We did not participate to win but only for the purpose of being there. As for me, I was too preoccupied with our thesis project left behind and too mindful of the expenses. I retained the feeling of being compelled to join the competition up to the competition itself, sulking over the fact that we cannot join the convention proper because nobody wants to pay our registration fee of 3,000. Not even us.

 I admit that we did our best, but only the best of what we were able to prepare. We did not mark our ways with excellence, so success was not able to follow after us. That must have spelled the difference. Sad, probably but on the brighter side, I can always sleep.

I have Big herr.

After 48 years ,I went back to ICC where I had my memorable On-the-Job training. For unknown reasons, I always forget to get my certification that I worked there for 320 hours. Finally, when the circumstances of graduation (as if everything's laid out already) compelled me to get my certificate, I let out a sigh and headed back to the cement plant. I was somehow excited with going back there. I was sure the guards would give me a hard time before I could enter their premises and when I finally did, the first statement of the employee and community relations manager (Oy, Mam Lolits), joking, was "May gani gipasulod ka sa guard. Taas na kaau kag buhok." ("You're lucky the guard let you in. You need a haircut.") She asked me if I'm available after five pm. I said yes. She said it's a good thing because by then they could accompany me to the barber shop. 

I have to get my certificate. I grinned.

I don't need a haircut. My hair is just BIG. However, I'm doubtful sometimes, especially when I feel like I'm not going to fit inside a room because my hair won't allow me or when I go to school and my hair seems to tell everyone that I haven't taken a bath. Or worse, when people say my hair is obscene and should put on underwear.But I went on liking my big hair. BIG, curly hair. It protects me from drizzles (Yes, it's waterproof.) and it gives others the impression that either I am a contemporary Einstein or a former charge of a mental institution at large. Either way, I do not fit in and I stand out. 

Recently, my friend Tamsi gave me a headband. That's it. I'm gonna keep my hair.

Why he is the G.I.

I knew he would win. Grabbing the title was one of the two things I was certain he would do (the other one is make me swoon). But the pageant night was not for his keeping. My friends told me he looked like a ghost one time, then literally ugly the next. His make-up was so garish I almost thought he was going to stage a theatrical act. And God forbid the barong which would make him complement a casket and make us all attend a burial. To speak plainly, he did not look good on stage. (At least for those who were about 10 meters away from the spectacle. Was it the lighting? Or the make-up?). Ironically, my eyes always see him as an impeccable creature. But even this failed.  I almost agreed with my friends except probably for the belief that I was certain the judges would never base their scrutiny on what they see on the stage alone. They have to see something far more relevant—the simplicity that makes him who he is.

I think Alberto Lucas Belgera neither became the Ginoong Inhinyero 2011 because he sashayed across the stage, displaying his bare torso for everyone to see nor because he proved to us that men could wear that much make-up and actually be men.  Aside from considering that there can be no other winner, Alberto Lucas won because of two things: First, he won because he was not meant to be on that stage.

Being a Ginoong Inhinyero is not a stage presentation. It is actually what is not on the display that matters. Our impression on whoever wins the title is not shaped by the way they walk or project. It is how we know them in their everyday life as an engineering student that we believe in them, or in any case, ascertain that they will actually win.

Alberto Lucas is that ginoo. I don’t know him personally but I would base my conclusion on what I observe from afar. He looked ugly with make-up because he is infinitely better-looking without it. He was diffident and ungraceful with extremely embellished costumes because he is not a celebrity who is comfortable with what others insist as fashion but an athlete who is content with a loose T-shirt and a pair of pants and pull the look that could make girls and pa-girls die with longing. (The bag pack is a perfect complement, by the way). He was unsure with choreographed movements because it was his nature to move unpredictably when he plays. I noticed that he doesn’t care what the hell happens to him as long as he could steal that ball or deliver that spike. Moreover, his was not the best projection on stage because he suppressed his wide grin—the very thing that made him a chick magnet. (Sorry to descend to cliché. Not that I am a chick. Ha ha). In fact, the rare shining moments he had were on occasions when he showed his true self by smiling at his ECE fans with that distinctive smile. (I swore I saw the Cheshire cat).  It was probably on these instances where the judges were enlightened with their choice. Here is a man who presents himself with all the flamboyant effects, yet here is also a man who could epitomize the Ginoong Inhinyero without the same.

                

I repeat: He won the title because he lost the pageant. The judges, if ever they had the same notion, have had to be very observant. I guess they had seen beyond the costumes, glitters and spectacle. After the event, in an ordinary day, they saw the simple Alberto Lucas sharply contrasted to men with overdone hair, body-fit clothing, ubiquitous shades and condescending air. This is of course based on my own observations, and the truth might be otherwise. However, other people testify of the same and I can assure you there are a lot of them. This alone is proof of his charm.

                

Probably you could attribute it to the eyes but his expression is one of humility, something not hard to see in him. I just hope that this achievement would not take that away. After all, it was this expression of humility that was his ticket to becoming known. After his win, it is his job to prove and keep it. 

               

This brings me to the second reason why he won: A lot of people believed in him. Sure, other departments cheered for their bet by bringing in streamers with their departments’ names. But it was only his ECE family who brought in streamers with his name blatantly spelled out. They did not just cheered for their department, they cheered for him. I have not seen any previous contestant who had this kind of support from their course mates. They seem to have this consensus among them and their concerted efforts showed in the results.

Gratzness, Alberto Lucas. I have always believed that competitions such as these are of no importance. Nada. The reason is because the title doesn’t impose any responsibility or if there is one, it is not so defined. Glory would not be worthwhile without the attached burden. Yet now it occurred to me that somehow this is a test of your character. You don’t have to save the world by being the G.I. or do anything for that matter except for one thing—improve for the better and stay humble. Do not even attempt to become a model student. Sure, COE students admire people but they are never constrained by emulating role models because they go beyond. The Ginoong Inhinyero was not meant to produce an ideal COE student. Originally, it was meant for the thrill of seeing good-looking boys on stage. But here you come letting people see that you could actually win by looking better without the stage. That of course is desirable, since the glamour of the stage is only fleeting. What matters is everything else.  

                

I have bothered to write this all up for no reason at all. Or shall I say for a reason completely irrelevant to you. I do not mean that you live by other people’s expectations. That is just unfortunate. No other person knows what you ought to do except yourself.  Nonetheless, all this stranger wants is for you to heed his unsolicited advice.            

[01.29.11]

Of velociraptors and tyrannosaurs

It's not something to be proud of. Jurassic Park by Michael Crichton and its sequel, The Lost World has been there for decades and I've only read them recently. However, it did not diminish my amazement. It's like being a child again. Eras ago, when I was still a child (probably even before these dinosaurs), I would often wonder about these strange creatures. Phenotypically, we might be relatives. That was probably why.

The writing wasn't phenomenal but for Crichton's creation, Ian Malcolm. The assertive mathematician who specializes in chaos and complexity theory became endeared. He is, to quote, "a gadfly who stings the plot to life," providing the passages I love to quote. It was only Malcolm who appeared in both novels. (Dodgson of course, but for purposes of bias I dare not include him.) Of course Sarah Harding is incredible (JZ would be fascinated with this superwoman) and the kids, what can I say, they are always part of the marketing ploy.

My favorite aspect of the book is how it provides deep insights about history, culture, and life in the context of extinction and survival. In this way, the book touches upon the enigma that is human existence and its cessation. Coupled with disgusting and tales of gore (evisceration is ubiquitous), the books are indeed riveting. At least for me, I can completely relate to the Gaussian distributions, computer interfaces and so on. For others, it may well be regarded as another one of the avenues for learning.

Yes, you're right. I am. So?

Romans, countrymen, friends and lovers. I do realize that the consequences of my actions lately include resisting an intense desire to cover my face upon entering the engineering building and being the object of revulsion of certain individuals. I am prepared in anyway, if my simple admiration would lead to cataclysmic outcomes. But even so, I do believe, and so does any sensible individual, that I do nothing wrong in the context of placing the object of my admiration to ignominy or public consternation. He remains, with or without my existence, an individual of indubitable integrity and honor. I take solace in the fact that we, from the moment I saw him until I accidentally managed to have my picture taken with him, are strangers and will remain strangers as far as the cosmos is concerned. If by any chance a hint or even a shadow of an acquaintanceship looms, I will welcome it without feeling anything like what a hiker feels after surmounting a major hurdle on his treacherous trek towards a picturesque mountain.

If for my welfare my friends will advise me to cease such publicity knowing that I can never compromise my own valuable integrity which I have built and strengthened since time immemorial,  I can only thank them. But forgive my vanity. This wouldn't last for long. Follies are a luxury for me, sometimes.

And to you, lucky individual, whom the universe showered favor by allowing me to have such eyes for you, I only ask that you wouldn't mind. And I mean it literally.

I am overreacting, of course. Duh. It's just a crush. It just goes to show that I'm normal.

Abnormally normal. Ayeee...

(Because of the hype on plagiarism, the first sentence is inspired by the speech of Marcus Brutus in the play Julius Caesar by William Shakespeare. Just in case. )

Killed by a book

This will be your fate when you nicely  try to take a peek  into my room, comment about how nice my reading backlog looks from afar, asking me to hand you over one of the books, borrow it, and after ten seconds return it with an expression of disgust on your face. And as if you're not yet done with your self-expression, you say you don't want it because they're boring. The hardbounds, with all its volumes, will definitely flung themselves at you screaming to take away your life by endless papercuts and bludgeons.

If only you could exert extra effort to just keep it to yourself, you will not suffer the above mentioned.

So that you readers can have a blight insight into this predicament, allow me to list the books in my reading backlog:

• Weekend Wodehouse by P.G. Wodehouse
• Saturday by Ian McEwan
• The Journey Inwards (I forgot the author)
• a book about the Korean war (I have not touched it, yet)
• 3 issues of the theosophical digest
• Youngblood 2.0

I apologize to you if the only definition of an interesting reading material you know is one regarding aliens, science fiction and puhlease, vampires. I find them enjoyable to read, too. Honestly. But, por pabor, the last thing that you should ask me, His kingdom come, is whether I instead have a copy of the Twilight book after handing you the collated works of young essayists in Youngblood. The next thing you know,you'll be running for your life.

I understand that these kinds of books/reading materials require a higher level of appreciation. That's probably why you showed apparent disgust when I said I prefer books studded with words that enrich my vocabulary, without minding the hassle of opening a dictionary everytime I encounter one. My fault, probably, is not telling you beforehand that if ever you want books with simple language and straightforward symbolisms if ever there are, you cannot get that from me. Don't get me wrong. I read a lot of popular books, but I don't OWN them.

I'm glad my copy of The Prophet was lost.  If it ever reached your hands and in your audacity, vilified  it beyond consideration, labeled it boring and inscrutable, then it's your problem that you look like a man yet you're as intelligent as a trilobite.

You can insult my face and my social status, but I have low tolerance for people who insult my English, my music preferences and the books I read.

Don't get killed by a book. You know you don't want to.

You know who she is? She's Iphreeta, the demon goddess. And she's ready to unleash her wrath on you unworthy mortals.

Running the Nestle MILE: Meeting Amazing People

First is the title. Then there's Jiggy Aquino-Cruz. He was the first MILE Committee member who caught my attention. Not because he's chubby and cute and all, but because I watch Y-Speak and I'm an avid fan of the Aquinos. ( Admiration that is deeply rooted on the eloquence of Ninoy and the compassion of Cory and of course, the contrast to the Marcoses.) I'm like "Omigad, Jiggy Aquino-Cruz (yes, complete) works with Nestle!" But more than that, he was assigned to look after my group and he, together with the rest of our mentors literally were with us even in the wee hours when we painstakingly finish our business cases.

Of course who could forget the Ate ng Bayan. The one who I first knew via airwaves. The ever "maasikasong" Leslie Kate Tseng. Technically, she's not an Ate. I think were from the same batch. However, she was always there for us to the point of having to sleep uncomfortably just to accompany eight distressed MILEES working hard to finish their business case. That in itself is so "family." And by the way, the headphone she lent me was great. I felt like drowning in the music of the iPod shuffle. I mortified myself because I entertained thoughts of not returning it. That's how "quality" it was.

Fellow MILEES Ian Obach Palermo and Giovie Boschi with Ms. Leslie Kate in the center.

Speaking of family, there's Ms. Steph and of course Madderrr Judy. The two of them were technically the mentors. They set aside their high ranks to mingle with newbies like us. They gave up comfy nights to guide neophytes in the career world to develop themselves. They were so game and eager I never thought they held top positions, considering the existing stereotypes.  Ms. Steph is the  brand manager of MILO (who is supposed to bring Chris Tiu along the basketball training, but damn, stars have unforeseeable schedules) and Ms. Judy is the head of Nestle's packaging. When I first saw her, I felt an instant connection. Something feels familiar. Then she started talking about terephthalates reacting with ethylene glycol to produce polyethylene. I asked her, "What was your college course, Madderr??" She replied, sharply, "Chemical Engineering." That explains the connection, and I thought, I'm really bound to be successful.

Team Lucky. Front row from left: Abel Reyes, Camille Dominique Tacastacas, Lea Karmina del Mundo, Ms. Judy. Back row from left: Carla Sia, Ms. Steph, Crystal Balili and Adrian Manlapig.

Ms. Steph and I.

Then there's the Bisaya group. First is Ms. Jasmin Estacio, who hails from Cagayan de Oro, Bear Brand's brand manager who was supposed to tag me along to Regine's shooting of her newest Bear Brand commercial. Unfortunately, my return flight was scheduled in conflict. (To my utter disappointment). So she just asked me to send something for Regine to sign her autograph on. Apparently, a piece of paper. The next thing I knew, Regine asked if I could instead have a signed copy of her newest album out sometime this November. I almost fainted. and I'm not exaggerating. Composing the Bisaya group are Ms. Rhea, the one from Iligan City who purposely went to Mandarin Oriental to visit the 4 Iliganons who made it to the top 48. That's just thoughtful. Also, Ms. Anna Lee, Maddeerrr, who is single by the way. She's from Dumaguete and the group just loves her. No fuss and palavers. I have to include here Sir Andrew from Cagayan de Oro, whom I have mistaken for a basketball star and her wife 3na and of course, Ms. Maila who's not really a Bisaya but took the time to introduce us to the Bisaya people.

Jesther Ian (MILEE), Ms. Anna Lee, Ms.3na, Ms. Jaz, and JanMell.

 There are still a lot I haven't mentioned but are equally amazing. There's Ms. Grace De Castro, the head of recruitment, the MILE 2010 Course Director, or fondly, MAMA G. That hypocorism defines her role and the amount of compassion she has.

Mama G and child.

These are the kind of people in Nestle. Everyone I met in MILE is amazing. They were not apprehensive of showing that even if they work hard in the number one food and beverage company in the world, they still have the funny and playful side. They were not mindful of the top positions they hold and mingled with students who still have a lot to prove. They had patience for hungry minds who asks questions every now and then and the compassion to help us out of tangled circumstances, often involving themselves in the process that you never thought would come from a person you barely know. 

When I first saw the poster for Nestle MILE, the tag line at the bottom reads: See the Nestle difference. I think it should have been, Experience the Nestle difference. The kind of people in the company-- this, for me, is the Nestle difference.