It is only with the heart that one can see rightly. What is essential is invisible to the eye. —Antoine de Saint Exupery in "The Little Prince"

A man's silence is wonderful to listen to. —Thomas Hardy

The reason lightning doesn't strike twice in the same place is that the same place isn't there the second time. —Willie Tyler

Let’s not walk through this road, forgetting

That only when we let trust stay afloat
Will we be able to drown our cloak of doubt;

For dreams don’t soar in our sleep;
Only when we are wide awake
Are we able to give them wings;

And only when our courage learns to fly
Can we hope to crash our fears.

Let’s walk through this road, remembering.

Agtadekak man, ta naiwagatkon a namimpinsan
Dagiti aliaw a nangadipen iti kaunggan.

Ta awandan a matimudko dagiti aligagaw ni buteng
Tunggal lumabas iti paraangan agal-allangogan
Nga arimpadek dagiti agkalkallautang nga anniniwan.

Makiin-innisemak met ngaminen iti kannag ti kaltaang;
Isu a wen, gayyem, patiek a namimpinsan
Nauman nga agsaknap dagiti nadawel a lidem
Nausawan ket ngatan ti nangbartek kadakuada nga ilem.

There’s something that’s gravely ailing the world today. And it’s not global warming. It’s our hearts becoming cold and unfeeling.


The culprits probably thought it was a good joke, so they took video footage of it and uploaded it in the internet. After all, it’s not often that one would “be lucky” enough to witness an operation to get a perfume canister out of a poor fellow’s anus. But right now, I can hear the “lucky” fellows’ jeers turned into sobs, and see their jeering faces ‘sorrily’ contorted as they scamper away for cover.

I am talking about the scandal at a Visayan hospital where a team of doctors and nurses and (a) nursing student(s) took photo and video footages of an operation done on a male patient who had a perfume canister stuck on his anus during a sexual act. The video footage was then said to be uploaded in youtube for all the world to see (the video has since been removed from the file sharing site after the scandal broke out). But according to bloggers who have seen the video and to some news report, the video showed several people in the operating room jeering as the perfume canister was being removed, making disrespectful comments, calling the canister “baby,” and spraying perfume after the canister was removed. All these while the patient was lying helpless and unconscious.

Before this offensive event, I was of the opinion that there are two kinds of fun: clean and dirty. But apparently I’m wrong. There’s a third one: sick.

I think it’s sick that some people could get a kick from other people’s grave embarrassment. I think it’s sick that some people could actually laugh at other people’s pain. I think it’s sick that the people we turn to for help would extend their right hand to assist us, only to stab us with their left. I think it’s sick that professionals would act in an unprofessional way in times of crisis. I think it’s sick that we would choose to add insult to the injury when we could opt to ease the pain. Ah, yes, the world we live in can sometimes be so sick. (Or shall I say, we can sometimes be so sick.)


Condemn him not

It’s true, it’s unhealthy to use sex toys during sexual intercourse; but if others decide to use them, to engage in different kind of sex, who are we to condemn them? It is their business as it is their lives. It is not for us to judge them. But reading some blog posts, I realized that some folks put the blame on the poor victim, their reasoning being, “things would not have happened if he did not engage in “abnormal” sexual behavior, if he weren’t gay.

That got me a little lost, because the issue, in my humble opinion, is not the victim’s sexual preference, nor is it his sexual behavior. The issue is that the medical professionals involved violated his rights as a patient, as a person.

He went to the doctors to seek help, but what did he get? Sure, the doctors relieved him of the proof of his physical ‘rape,’ but they raped his soul in return, inflicting upon him a kind of pain that no medicine could relieve nor cure; no expert could surgically remove.

And then, as he prepares to seek justice, someone from the Catholic Church comes forward to condemn him. That, I think, is hypocricy to the highest level. The last thing the victim needs and deserves is for us to be moralistic about it, to play self-righteous and pass judgment upon him. His rights, his person had been gravely violated, and the least thing we can do is to help him stand as he struggles to carry the cross that was suddenly put on his shoulders, and not to whip his back as the Judeans would.

Creativity and originality are among the traits parents must have when naming their kids. Especially so if you live here in the Philippines. [I gathered that these two traits are not required in other countries, so that explains why they have common, “boring” names! (Peace, peace! Just jesting. This is not supposed to be a racial post. Please just read on and enjoy it for what it really is.)]

Just now, I finished re-reading an article by a British guy named Matthew Sutherland, A Rhose by Any Other Name, a piece about names in our country. I think it is very funny and so true. (I suggest you read his article first before reading the rest of this post. I’ll wait.)


Oh, so you’re done. Funny, huh? But the rest of my post is funnier, I assure you. (Well, I hope, so.) So read on!


What I’m going to discuss is what Mr. Sutherland calls composite names. He gave examples of composite names taken from names of places, but he failed to mention composite names from the child’s parents, which is a very common practice in the Philippines. In fact, my name, which I’ve been told sounds like an Indian, has come from my parents’ names: Sher is from mom’s (Sherly) and Ma is from dad’s (Manuel).

Good thing Sherma turned out sounding fine! In fact, I think it’s beautiful. (Love your creativity, Mom and Dad!) However, it sometimes annoys me that I need to spell it out so other people could understand it. S-H-E-R-M-A. .

Yes, it’s Sherma. Not Sharmaine nor Sherna nor Cherma as people often mistake it to be. Neither is it Shermalyn (as my ex-officemates at PPHI insist on calling me just to annoy me) or Shermalou as my other ex-officemates (over at FAME) love to call me. Just Sherma, thank you very much! Argh!

But here’s a freaky thought. Imagine if my parents decided to use their nicknames instead [Yes, they have nicknames! Leth (mom’s) and Manny (dad’s)], as they initially planned. I could have been named Manileth! Yikes! Good thing someone put some sense into them (thanks, Grandma!). Good thing, too, that I don’t have a sister; I’m sure she would have gotten it. Harhar!

But I do have three brothers, and one of them is not so lucky, while another is extremely lucky. The lucky one is lucky, because, well, his name is Lucky Ryan. Haha! But no, my not-so-lucky brother's name is not Unlucky Ryan. Neither is it Manileto (eeeeewwwww!). His name, for 21 years, had been Sherman! No, it's not a typo. It's really as I wrote it. Mom and Dad (unimaginative folks that they are) had been inspired by a couple in our neighborhood who named their twins Norma and Norman! Duh!

I think Mom and Dad regretted not being very creative when naming this brother of mine. Me and Sherman used to fight over small things, and all because of our names. Sherman enjoyed annoying me by putting an n to my things on which I'd written my name, (Sherma becomes Sherman) so they became his! That easy! Good thing (for me) that he eventually found out, when he was about to take his board exam, that there had been a mistake with his name. The civil registrar put Sherwin instead of Sherman. Because there was no more time to file all the documents necessary to correct the error before the exam, my brother adopted Sherwin as his official name (so he's actually a living mistake, hehehe), and so now, we fight no more. Ahahaha!

People who know me well can tell you I am not a vengeful person. But you know what? I’m thinking of using my creativity and originality when naming my would-be kids, too. You see, my boyfriend’s surname is Pascua (meaning Christmas), so I have this EXTREMELY GREAT idea of having christmasey names for my kids. I’m thinking of naming my girl Poinsettia (yes, the December flower) and my boy, Rudolph. Or how about Claus?

Please let me know what you think. You might just help me and my boyfriend settle our “argument” over baby names. He doesn’t think my idea is great (hmp!), but I don’t believe him! :-) I’m sure he’s just jealous, because he had not thought of it first (considering it’s HIS surname!). Besides, what does he know about creativity? He has lived in Europe for 20++ years and counting! He must have lost his Filipino creativity! (Peace, Buddy!)

Let me know what you think, ok? Or how about if we'll have a little game. Simply answer any or all of the following questions: (1) What do you think of my BRILLIANT idea about my kids’ names? (2) Could you suggest another Christmasey name for me to consider? (3) What do you think your name would be had your parents decided to use a composite name based from their names?