Monsieur Disney

Est-ce qu'une vie meilleure
Nous attend, dès demain?
Ne doute pas puisqu'il est l'heure !
Je sais que pourtant
Il faut faire souvent des choix
qui font vraiment peur !
Oh, comme le monde me semble grand,
Quand je voyage -- dans le temps.

Au bout du chemin
On me tendra la main.
Il me semble que ma vie change.
Je serai choyée
Protégée, désirée !
Comme ce rêve me semble étrange.
Oui, et pourtant je l'entreprends,
Ce beau voyage -- dans le temps.

Song, rêve d'une vie
Où j'aurais enfin
Une famille à mon tour
Songe, rêve ! Quell' vie !
J'aurai, moi aussi, droit
A mon rêve d'amour.

Douc'ment, pas à pas,
Marchons vers l'avenir
Sur la route du bonheur.
Est-ce qu'on m'aimera ?
Ai-je raison de partir ?
Tant de questions dans mon coeur
Oui, c'était bien un signe !
Un monde se termine !
Que le chemin du printemps
Soit ma victoire
Sur le temps !

No, I don’t have any intention of making anyone’s noses bleed, nor do I intend to promote some random French singer about a song no one in this country will probably hear of. In fact, this song might get some recall points from us, children on the 1990’s. Of course, we probably know it by its English original --- “Journey to the Past” from the animated feature “Anastasia”.

Why yes, indeed, I have been looking for and listening to Disney songs dans le francais (in French).

Before anything, I must tell you these pieces of background information. First of all, j’aime, non, j’adore le langue francais (I love, no, adore the French language). From the moment I first heard Madeline say “gateau de chocolat” in that cartoon, I fell in love with the language. My stacks of French books and movies, as well as my insistence to insert a French word here and there in conversation, are testaments to how addicted I am to le langue d’amour. It is lovely, after all. Secondly, I grew up with Disney, and much like most people, have a special place in their hearts for those animated gems

That’s why I suppose it wasn’t really a surprise when I started finding random Disney (or animated feature. “Anastasia” isn’t a Disney film) songs in this Romance language I’m obsessed with, a habit I’ve picked up from my friend and fellow Francophile Julie. When she showed me the video of “La Belle et Le Bete” (Beauty and the Beast), I, for some reason, never thought I’d be culling for random Disney songs in French like she did. But well, let’s just say here I am.

The video for “Voyage dans le Temps” (as in the clip from the actual French translation of the film. Not just a still photo with the song. Look for "Voyage dans le Temps"; it's the one timed at 3:05.) happens to be on YouTube. Nonetheless, for some reason, I think it really worked with the animation. Anastasia’s wide-eyed, bubbly personality was punctuated by that sweet French voice singing one of her pieces. Come to think of it, that character has a little ingénue thing about her. I don’t know. Maybe, it’s just I who thinks that way. Nonetheless, I think Anastasia and French are suited for each other.

What was that? You’re questioning my claim that Anastasia in French is very much brilliant? You think if there’s any translated version of the film I should be raving about, it should be the Russian adaptation (since the character is a Romanov princess)? You don’t really like the idea of Anastasia saying “bonjour”?

Well, yes, I believe your claim is valid. After all, Anastasia is a story bound in the context of Russian culture, even Russian history. There is a sphere this story moves in that can not be discounted. At the same time, though, isn’t literature universal? Aren’t the greatest stories in the world translatable and relatable to people of all cultures? Shouldn’t the French have as much right as the Russians to go belt “Journey to the Past” in a language that they can relate to? Yeah, I thought so too.

As I’ve mentioned in a previous blog, literature and the human story are limitless. One of those boundaries it happens to transcend is culture. So yes, I have every right to enjoy a Romanov princess sing how she’ll take un voyage dans le temps.

Plus, hearing Lea Salonga singing in French? That’s always champion.

The Death of Indian Rapunzel

Dearly beloved, we gather here to say our goodbyes to a fairy tale and cultural character that, unfortunately, passed away 10:00 am Monday. She was brutally assaulted with a pair of scissors, a brush, and a hair dryer for P40. With every snip of those wretched shears, she was being dismembered. Goodbye, Indian Rapunzel. You shall sorely be missed.


…Or not!

Haha! I got my hair cut. Yes, my tresses are no longer waist-length. Instead, I now have this sort of sultry, layered bob that frames my face and shows off my cheek bones. And you know what? I love it to bits.




(My camera's been acting weird lately. Don't mind the line!)

I love how classy and sophisticated it looks. I don’t know about you, but to me, it has this very gamine-like/European art film star quality to it. It looks like the sort of coiffure Audrey Tautou would sport in her latest Jean-Pierre Jeunet film. Or, if you want to go a little Hollywood, I could see Faye Dunnaway or Elizabeth Taylor with the same romantic hairdo in one of their classic flicks. It’s, I suppose, very fitting to my taste for classic and independent cinema.

I also love how easy to manage it is. All I need to do is brush my mane inwards, and voila. There’s no need for special irons or gadgetry. Just a brush would be perfectly fine to maintain this rather sensual do.

But what do I love most about my new hairstyle? Well, it’s actually something that would make me reminisce all the way back to high school.

You see, my natural hair texture is antithesis to everything the hair care industry stood for and promoted ---- big, fluffy and wavy versus the industry standard of stick-straight, thin and silky. And well, high school was, well, high school --- full of girls that wanted to copy the latest trend and ostracized every single deviant of the rules of fashion. I can’t remember just how many times I’ve been told to get my hair rebonded and chemically-altered for the sake of conformity. I got so fed up with the very explicit suggestions that I actually gave in last year, and got my hair permanently straightened (In all fairness, I liked the results.).

To add insult to injury, every single hair cut I had was fit for straight hair. Whether it was layered, Pobbed (Posh bobbed, since the hair style was popularised by Victoria “Posh Spice” Beckham), or whatever it is they’ve concocted, all of them seemed to suit only those with stick-straight locks. It was as if to say, “Yeah, it looks good….if your hair were thin and silky (Nudge! Nudge! Get a rebond.)” I’m sure the hairstylists meant no harm. The styles were probably industry standard. After all, their profession had to keep up with trends. They just styled my mane the way it was probably taught to them by Media Beauty School, but it still made my hair look awry.

The best thing about this hair style is that it embraces my natural voluminous, wavy hair. I love how the hair stylist took a look at my wavy hair (and my wishes not to rebond it again, for now) and saw beauty in it. He considered my rather unusual tresses and made something of it, as if to say that you don’t have to fit into the shampoo model mould to have fabulous hair (By the way, Sunsilk, I love you for using a curly-haired model for an advertisement. I’m still not going to use you, though. You make my hair fall!).

And, it’s usually like that. Whether it’s lips, or art, or ideas on how to further the cause of education --- it doesn’t have to fit into the mould to be considered worthy of attention (With the last two, it especially rings true). Something very peculiar and unusual, if only listened to, can be the idea to change the world.

All it takes is the removal of prejudice and a listening ear….oh, and in my case, brushing inwardly.

Araneta For President

For the record, no, I have nary an intention to run for the student council, let alone a government position. Well, that’s at least for now.

This whole hoohah is a product of something we admittedly take when bored out of our wits --- Facebook quizzes. Upon seeing a certain test result on my former Ateneo blockmate Yumi’s site, I thought, “Hey! This seems like buckets of fun. After all, this is all for laughs.” That quiz, “What’s next for you after the Ateneo?” is no different --- created just so that Ateneans and former students of the university can snicker at their “future careers”. So yes, I did decide to take it. But after all the giggling, what was left was astonishment at the result.

“Alexis, you are meant to be in the political arena.”

Me? Politics? Are you kidding me?

I must explain myself. No, I do not have a hatred for governance and all things related to it. I’m actually one of those rather rare individuals that believe that politics isn’t a dirty word (with consideration to those who believe it as such, of course. I don’t go around talking about political blah to people who’d rather keep their mouth shut about it.). In fact, I have quite a number of Political Science majors and wannabe lawyers for close friends. I’m pretty used to discussing about laws and ethics at lunch. But seriously, I just never thought of my name having the title “Her Excellency” or anything of the sort appended to it.

Yes, I can see myself as “Prof. Araneta” or “M.A” at the end of my name. I’ve never hidden from people interested my desire to take a Master’s degree in Literature (and perhaps another in Linguistics) and teach that subject oh so close to my heart. Yes, I can see my name being equated with some newspaper column I’d write. Hey, I’m even thinking up of my column name, making sure it fits me. Yes, I can see my name in some film credit roll. I can see myself thinking up of plot twists and character development methods for my latest screenplay. But the word “President” preceding my name? Nah!

I mean can you imagine me as the Commander-in-Chief of the nation? Just how would I order the Armed Forces? Can you imagine me trying to properly apportion our national budget for different areas of pressing concern for our citizens? Yes, I know I’ll be giving education a bigger slice of the pie (something I suppose I’ve mentioned in a previous entry), but what else? Can you imagine me delivering a State of the Nation address before the Filipino people? Yes, the actual public speaking isn’t really a problem (thanks to my oratorical and debate training), but what am I ever going to say? No, I don’t really think I’m cut out for the presidency.

Then, I realized that is exactly the problem. Nobody wants to be president. Nobody is willing to leave their comfort zones to serve their fellowmen. Nobody wants to assume the responsibility to care and do something. This isn’t limited to the national level, by the way. We can see this in every class election starting around 5th grade wherein some nominees shake their heads and blatantly refuse being written down on the blackboard to be included in the possible class auditor list.

But, you see, there are around six billion people in this world, and sometimes all we care about is just one --- ourselves. Just how many stupid times a day have we used the word “I”? If we care about the rest of that six billion, isn’t that a much better use of your time and effort? And who knows? Maybe, all that is needed to alleviate the condition of that six billion is one --- you. (Thank you to the film “The Princess Diaries” for coming up with that! I just modified it.)

And no, you don’t need to be president to serve. As I’ve said, you can serve the nation as a government official, director, teacher, student, accountant or jeepney driver. All you need to do is to always act out in love for your countryman and do something.

But hey, the legal age for me to run for president is still decades away.

From Cebu With Love (And Apologies?)

To those who’ve seen me jumping up and down with an immense smile plastered on my face as I went home from school last Wednesday, I believe it’s time for me to explain.

It’s so hard to just be poker-faced after what happened that afternoon. It’s really difficult to keep myself from squealing in glee because of just what transpired a few moments before that. It’s rather impossible to just contain myself at that point. How could I just shut up and act normally (if that’s applicable to me!) when two of your friends from rather far-off Cebu decide to surprise you with a phone call? And as if that isn’t squeal-worthy enough, I realize that no, I’ve never talked to Charlie and Jessah on the phone, nor heard their voices (save for that video of an NSTP presentation on Charlie's Multiply), ever. Ever. Wow!

Despite the scratchy voice I acquired from screaming on the phone --- a requirement brought about by weak signal transference from Manila to Cebu and vice versa (Gosh! You should have heard it. “HI! JESSAH! HOW! ARE! YOU?!”), I totally enjoyed those few minutes Jessah and I were at long last connected through the magic of cellular phones. Finally hearing her delightful, American-accented voice full of exuberance and excitement at talking to me (I’m only presuming, okay.) was also a treat. I totally relished every second of that phone call, and yes, it most certainly made my day --- made it enough to send me squealing and jumping around in the bathroom when nobody was there. Yes, it was most certainly welcome.

This is why I was perplexed when Charlie was apologising profusely for that phone call. He says that Jessah saw my number on his phone, copied it to hers, and decided to call me up. Also, he asked forgiveness if I was offended in any way by their call. My only question was “What offense?” If anything, I was ecstatic to finally hear their (I heard Charlie in the background briefly. So yes, I heard you speak, my soul brother!) wonderful, albeit screaming voices. I told him how that call was such a pleasant surprise and how it made me smile the entire day. Plus, yes, that I’d love another one. Haha!

But you know what? In some way, I understand Charlie’s apologising. You see, we live in a world with a “Don’t bother me” attitude. People are so preoccupied with their own tasks, clique of friends and, well, world that reaching out and wanting to get to know someone on a deeper level has become not normal, uncomfortable, and even offensive to the person you want to befriend. Because we’re so comfortable with the boxes we’ve set up for ourselves, we forget to see that there are others ---- others who laugh, sing, dance, cry, eat ice cream, love literature, make nonsense stories like us, as well as others who don’t --- beyond those cardboard borders. Reaching out is considered weird now.

But, if we do, goodness is it lovely. To know that someone in the distance --- whether it’s another country, another island, another house, or another mobile phone number --- would like to have you as part of their life, look at your real self, and accept you, that is sheer beauty. And of course, who knows the impact and joy that person would bring you if you don’t make the effort to actually walk across that imaginary hall and connecting with someone?

So Charlie, no, please don’t apologise for something I incredibly appreciate. And next time? I better hear you speak too. Just kidding! Haha!

I Want To Be A Popstar

Actually, not really. I don’t really want to be a pop star.

If there’s anyone to blame here for the rather intriguing title, it’d be my friend Azaza and her obsession for anything that comes from the Land of the Rising Sun. Because this song and its singer Ken Hirai are Japanese (and cute. But that’s not the primary reason), she just had to share it to me. And now, that song is on loop in my head. Lovely. Just lovely.

What’s particularly memorable about this song, aside from the fact that the singer looks like a Japanese Debenhams model, is the music video. It’s basically kitsch with a capital K. And that’s saying a lot for a Japanese music video (Watch Japanese music videos to find out what I mean!)

In the video, three guys compose a sort of boy band --- the leader in red, the preppy boy in blue, and Mr. Retro in yellow. They’re accompanied by a couple of dancing bear mascots. All five are directed by this artsy man in a scarf. But wait a second. How come they all look alike? Oh right! They’re all played by the same guy --- Ken Hirai.

In a way, Ken in the video is different things to different people. He takes on all the roles with much vigour and enthusiasm. Do you need a preppy boy? Okay, Ken can be that. Do you need someone to dance around in a bear costume? Sure, Ken would gladly do so. How about needing someone to direct this whole hurrah? Ken volunteers. It’s injecting life into all he does.

In a way, we’re all called to be pop stars. No, we don’t really have to wear a bear costume or do kitschy dance moves (and even if we do), but we are all called to be excellent students, children, siblings, friends and whatever role you see fit to insert here. It’s devoting time and effort into all you are called to do. It’s going the extra mile to make your work extra splendid. And yes, it means putting on a bear costume when you really have to.

Everything you do should burn with excellence and passion. Yes, that’s whether you’re studying or doing kitschy moves.

Seriously, Azaza, explain the kitschy moves.

Mama

Let me start with a song from a band that I, admittedly, listened to as a young child whose taste in music consisted of bubblegum pop.

Mama – Spice Girls Music Code



She used to be my only enemy and never let me free,
Catching me in places that I know I shouldn't be,
Every other day I crossed the line,
I didn't mean to be so bad,
I never thought you would
Become the friend I never had

Back then I didn't know why,
Why you were misunderstood,
So now I see through your eyes,
all that you did was love,
Mama I love you, Mama I care,
Mama I love you, Mama my friend,
My friend

I didn't want to hear it then but
I'm not ashamed to say it now,
Every little thing you said and did was right for me,
I had a lot of time to think about,
About the way I used to be,
Never had a sense of my responsibility.

Back then I didn't know why,
Why you were misunderstood,
So now I see through your eyes,
All that you did was love,
Mama I love you, Mama I care,
Mama I love you, Mama my friend, My friend

But now I'm sure I know why,
Why you were misunderstood,
So now I see through your eyes,
All I can give you is love,
Mama I love you, Mama I care,
Mama I love you, Mama my friend,
My friend

Mama I love you, Mama I care,
Mama I love you, Mama my friend,
You're my friend

(Sigh! Yes, I admit to liking the Spice Girls once upon a time! Oi! I was eight! Of course, I just accepted what pop culture and the radio DJ dished out for me to listen! And yes, I do admit to wanting to be Geri Halliwell, a.k.a. Ginger Spice! But I'm digressing.)

Do you need a reason why you should help our nation? Do you need some boost for you to get your bum moving to serve? Why should you go out of your way to do something for this nation?

Here’s why. The Philippines is our mother, Mama if you’d like.

Like any loving mother, she gives the best for her children. She provides food to eat, water to drink, shelter, and all those basic, intrinsic human needs. No matter what, all those things we need to survive are there (It's just a problem of access to them for our masses.) Aside from that, she provides breathing space ---- the freedom and democracy to let her children spread their wings and be who they want to be, believe what they want to believe.

Oh, and need I mention that she does all this despite her children, her citizens, disrespecting their mother? Despite our polluting her rivers, she still finds ways to provide clean water for her children to quench their thirst with. Despite our talking oh so negatively about her and complaining about how sorry the traffic at EdSA is, she still is proud of us whenever we do something remarkable. Despite our constant mini-bouts of corruption (After all, cheating in exams is the start of cheating money from the masses), she still shows us the best foot she could show forward.

Despite our not caring about our Mama, she still loves us. She still cares. She still thinks that the Filipino, her children are worth it. They are worth all the rubbish her same children dish out. Why? Love. Simple enough.

Today, we celebrate the death anniversary of one of her sons who chose to protect her precious democracy. Senator Benigno Aquino is one exemplary Filipino for a reason --- his love for the country that radiated in his actions towards it. This is one man who knows how to respect his mother.

How about you? When's the last time you thanked Mama?

When Bawling is Inevitable

Okay, so it’s my turn to step up to the podium and give my confession? All right, I’ll go. Hello. My name is Alexis, and yes, I admit to blubbering in front of the TV on the 5th of August.

How could I not bawl? I was, after all, watching the funeral of the mother of Philippine Democracy, former President Corazon Aquino. Tears couldn’t help falling as soon as I saw that sea of people and yellow all ready to give honour to a woman so close to every Filipinos heart, a woman who brought back freedom to the country. And yes, I did cry during Kris Aquino’s eulogy for her beloved mother.

What was that? You’re asking me what gives me the right to shed all those tears for her when I wasn’t there during the EDSA Revolution. Hey, I wasn’t even born yet when that mighty woman decided to stand her ground against Marcos dictatorship (I was born in 1988, two years after People Power.). Yet, there I was in my room, using up an entire pack of tissues for a president I could only vaguely remember leading the nation. So, why am I crying?

Perhaps, it’s because despite my being born after her brave leadership of EDSA 1, I could feel her heart for this nation. Perhaps, it’s because she’s an icon of Philippine democracy. Above all, perhaps, it’s because she was a Filipina who just wanted the best for her nation and was willing to go to the ends of the earth to achieve it --- much like a lot of us.

So, in honour of her, these are some lessons even I, someone who wasn’t even born yet during the EDSA Revolution, could take from her example.

1. No matter what achievement you have, remember that above all, you are a person.

Always, always act in humility. Remember that before you were the top student in school, or Miss Whatever or even President of the Philippines, you are a person. Never let your achievements go to your head.

Don’t forget to thank the people who put you in your position --- parents, friends, everyone. You wouldn’t be where you are without them, so yes; they deserve their due thanks from you.

And once your term or season is over, pass the title and prestige on very gracefully, as President Cory did to her successor President Fidel Ramos. No attempts to cling on to power. Just give it and wish the next person to occupy your position well. Perhaps, you could even sneak in a halo-halo serving after the hand-over ceremony (which President Aquino reportedly did. It’s yet another sign of her humility to choose to grab a snack at the nearby eatery rather than have a grand party to celebrate the end of her term.).


2. Helping the nation is not the job of just public servants. Everyone should take part.

President Aquino continued to serve the nation even as a private citizen. When she gave up her title in 1992, she did not give up contributing to our country. She still continued to fight for democracy even from her Times Street home.

She supported various organizations that helped the plight of the Filipino people. She was outspoken regarding her love for democracy and against any attempts of quelling it --- even when threatened. Most of all, she led by example, using her principles as a guide to life.

I suppose that shows that yes, everyone can help building the nation --- whether you’re a president, lawyer or magtataho. Yes, that’s even if you’re not a former president. Little things can make a big impact.

If everyone decides to obey traffic rules, the highways of this nation would be a less dangerous place. If everyone decides to pick up the trash and throw it in the correct bin, this nation would be a cleaner, less polluted (and, for that matter, less teeming with disease) place. If everyone decided not to give in to corruption this election, we would elect the proper leader and this would help in making our nation better.

So, I suppose, it’s time to move our private citizen bums to action.


3. The Filipinos are worth it.

Something you love will always be worth it, and I could ascertain that President Cory loved our nation intensely. If she didn’t she would have never decided to relinquish her beloved private life as a housewife and part-time Math teacher for the tumultuous world of politics. But she did, and so she led the nation to its fight to win back democracy.

I hope the same fervor burns in every Filipino’s heart. I’m not saying we should all become president. It’s impossible to let all 85 million of us have a seat at Malacanang. What I’m saying is that I hope every Filipino out there thinks about the nation as worth all their efforts. To simply love the Philippines, but do so unconditionally, truly.


The yellow confetti showered on her has been swept away. The flowers to decorate her funeral cart have wilted. The people who cried for her during her wake are probably back to their routine of work or school. But I do hope one thing from her remains with us forever --- her heart and her passion for this nation. Her example should not be buried along with her body. It should be ablaze in every person she’s mightily battled for --- we, Filipinos.

Thanks, President Corazon Aquino. You are one amazing Filipina and an inspiration.

So, I suppose, I could be excused for all that bawling, aye?