I Rule My World!

Over the weekend, I have had the privilege to bond with the newest members of the Amba. The Sabbath was cramped with activities from sunrise to sunset prepared by the new set of officers.  Being one of the oldest members enjoying a hard-earned status, I observed them with pride as they make a name for themselves in this crazy world called the AUP Ambassadors.

Honestly, I see parts of myself in them.

...I was the new wide-eyed member, who becomes ecstatic at the thought of being in the group, of having the privilege to sit in that semi-circled row of chairs, hold the dog-eared pages of the pieces held by the hands who have made the group last that long.
…Yes, I was the new mortal member who was looked down on and was ignored by the ‘immortals’ because I look stupid when I sing and I had the voice that cannot ring.
…I was that new ‘dream-on’ kind of member who wanted to move heaven and earth just so I could join the sacred concerts in the local churches or the next gala concert in Finster Chapel.
…Indeed, I was that naive alto who would listen endlessly to recordings of the previous performances of the group, bring the pieces everywhere I go just to memorize it, and break down at the thought of singing in an octet at the next "exam".
…Also, I was in that nightmarish batch, a bleak and dark time in the history of the Ambassadors, a time when singing our heart out is just not enough.
…Then, I was that semi-new member who was given the chance. Who, even for the weaknesses that I possess was given the opportunity to sing with them at several stints.
…Yes, I was that several-months-old member who has to borrow a uniform from one of the old members who would be kind enough to spare theirs, for fear of looking like an idiot in the performance.
…Yet indeed, I was that idiot you saw at PIC during Peso Parade, weak-kneed with paled lips, as I sing the alto parts of Great Is Thy Faithfulness.
…Then, I was that semi-new member given the biggest break when elected to be the president of the group. And with another batch of new members coming in, I warily and cautiously shed off skins of my newness.

Hayy..new members…they sure have a long way to go (at least, I hope so!). I wish most of them could stay and experience the dazzling world of Amba–and yet at the same time keep their feet on the ground. Their excitement is contagious, to the point that they made me feel regretful of leaving. Well, they should be all revved up, for they are embarking on a journey filled with the most wonderfully awful and aweful times in their college life.

Just letting you know that I am on top of the world right now because I passed the Music History Exam I’ve been reviewing for for the past month! Praise the Lord!
To all those who prayed for me and believed I can do it, I am eternally grateful!
To all those who have made it possible for me to secure the textbooks so i can photocopy it in UP, I am forever indebted!(Josh, Sir Dante and Mam de Luna and Dr. Cerna) And sorry if I have been such a pain in the neck when I didn’t return it on time. Thanks also, for lending me those cds.
To Aylwin for dispensing your knowledge about creative and effective memorizing–It totally worked for me. I will never take notes the same way I did before. Tony Buzan is a genius!
To Sugar, Aiza, Marven and Enan for taking the time to review me on your spare moments—moments I forced you to spare for me.
To my mom who banned me from playing TextTwist and Bejeweled 2.
To Kuya Boj who regularly bombed me with questions which most of the time I cannot answer, challenging me to review zealously.
Thank you, thank you, thank you from the bottom of my heart.
Praise God from whom all blessings flow!

Time and again, I receive text forwards from well-meaning
friends..messages that bring on witty and sarcastic comments about my
prolonged singleness. I appreciate these messages (really, i do!)
because aside from the peso and time that they spend just to remind me
of my current status, it makes me laugh and fondly embrace the reality
that, indeed, being single is a wonderful gift.

Well, there used to be days when I could be the perfect cynic–and
rant about why on earth am I single, especially when I am asked the
endless string of questions like–"kelan ka ba magkaka-boyfriend?" or "bakit wala ka pang boyfriend?"–from people who either care or just want to get the latest, juicy detail about my life (probably they simply couldn’t think of anything to talk about). Still somehow, I can tolerate this.

Truth be told, there are people who I purposely and expressly avoid
because of the roles they’ve assumed as ‘relationship cops’. They are
the ones who, after asking you why you’re still single, would launch
into a "ikaw kase ganito ka—, bakit kase ganito ka—, dapat kase ganito ka—" speech. Most often, the same speech would conclude with a "meron akong kilala—".
Oh, please!!! Then again, I’m not successful in avoiding these people
because they stalk… like it’s their ultimate mission to find me a
partner in life.

(…See, i was in a perfectly good mood when i started writing
this, and three paragraphs later I sound like any regular bitter
spinster.)

Anyhow, I know people care. They are looking out for my best interest. And for that, I am indebted. But please, spare me your awa and hasty matchmaking. I’m gonna be single for quite a time, and I’m loving it, so let me be.

Did you see it? Most hurry past it. Let’s not. Pull out a pen and underline this twelve-letter masterpiece.

Nevertheless.

“Nevertheless David took the stronghold …”

Wouldn’t you love God to write a nevertheless in your biography? Born to alcoholics, nevertheless she led a sober life. Never went to college, nevertheless he mastered a trade. Didn’t read the Bible until retirement age, nevertheless he came to a deep and abiding faith.

We all need a nevertheless. And God has plenty to go
around. Strongholds mean nothing to him. Remember Paul’s words? “We use
God’s mighty weapons, not mere worldly weapons, to knock down the
Devil’s strongholds” (2 Cor. 10:4 NLT).

You and I fight with toothpicks; God comes with battering rams and
cannons. What he did for David, he can do for us. The question is, will
we do what David did? The king models much here.

Two types of thoughts continually vie for your attention. One
proclaims God’s strengths; the other lists your failures. One longs to
build you up; the other seeks to tear you down. And here’s the great
news: you select the voice you hear. Why listen to the mockers? Why
heed their voices? Why give ear to pea-brains and scoffers when you
can, with the same ear, listen to the voice of God?

Do what David did.
Turn a deaf ear to the old voices.
Open a wide eye to the new choices.
Who knows, you may be a prayer away from a nevertheless. God loves to give them.
Peter stuck his foot in his mouth.
Joseph was imprisoned in Egypt.
The Samaritan woman had been married five times.
Jesus was dead in the grave …

Nevertheless, Peter preached, Joseph ruled, the woman shared, Jesus rose—and you?

You fill in the blank. Your nevertheless awaits you.

From Facing Your Giants
Copyright (W Publishing Group, 2006)  Max Lucado

Jinxed Jagger

If you’ve read my previos blog regarding Jagger’s accident, then it
might interest you to know that that was her second accident that month.
She had another one a few days after while driving her motorbike to
Cadena de Amor worship hall. She crashed into a Starex causing her
several gashes on the legs and arms. We were all good-naturedly joking
her that she was jinxed and that she shouldn’t come to Malaysia because
the plane might crash or something. In the ensuing days that followed,
she seemed to be accident-free, or so we thought.

On the way home from lunch at the Golden Angels’ place, I told
Jagger to sit out front since I was not really in the good mood to make
small-talk with the driver. We were talking about how cute the car
was–is small, comfy and all–until the driver came. After prayer, he
started the car and didn’t notice that there was a big canal on the
side of the road where he was parked. He drove right into it and
couldn’t get out. So we got out of the car and asked the guys to help
him lift his car. With the car back on the side of the road, he still
couldn’t leave because a van was closely parked behind him, and a big
pick-up truck was parked in front of him. The host’s daughter drove the
pick-up truck away from the car and the side of the road and tried to
park it in their garage, hitting the van on the process. The cute
little car moved forward a bit, and my brother moved the van a little
bit to give way to the pick-up truck. We teased Jagger that it was all
kinda her fault–and she seemed guilty about it (haha!).

Grilled, but Alive!

Come Sunday night. The night of all nights! The reason why we were there! I personally thought it would be the greatest humiliation of a
lifetime. I could never express with such passion in front of thousands
of people. I have never ever done this before. This concert will
totally grill me alive!!! Yet as usual, I was wrong.

Rain, falling rain.. -As the opening prayer was being
said, I felt a small drop of water on my nose. Then on my cheek. Pretty
soon, the drops of water were falling at a fast rate I could feel my
back almost soaked. The others on the stage showed no signs of going
anywhere. Clearly, they were determined to proceed with the concert
with or without rain. Everyone hushed into a fervent prayer. What was
God trying to say by sending this rain? However, after several minutes,
the rain subsided. Miraculously, it was only the stadium that was
prevented from getting wet. The rest of Kota Kinabalu was drenched.
Oh-so totally pentecostal -Hence,
I was able to put my act together. And obviously, everyone in the Amba
seemed to be doing very well, too. I even have my own microphone!The feeling was
so real that most of the time, I was raising my hands because I wanted
to. I was looking at the sky, not for effects, but because I felt the
message of the song. I was clapping because God turned the concert to
bless and not to condemn. I was not even lip syncing. Amazingly, i know
the words to all the songs (well, except He Is Holy–which I could
actually recite, undertime). Do check us out at youtube. Tag would be:
Mega voices. But, that’s just one song, tho.

Who’s the Thief?!

Mini bar for a mini concert- Helping
ourselves to the array of sandwiches and bananas on the table, we
cannot seem to get over the fact that the concert was finally done!
Woohoo! Our purpose in Sabah had served them well, and amazingly, us
too. So it was with very grateful hearts that we did an informal mini
concert for the ones who prepared the food, the event coordinators and
the Golden Angels.
Got the nerve?!- However,
there was an uncalled for intermission when the pastor asked us who was
the thief. I was like–is this a catch phrase? Is he gonna weave
another story? But he was serious. He was asking if one of us stole
microphone #25. We didn’t know how to react. Why would we even steal
their microphone?

A Beachy Day, Indeed! (and more sightseeing)

The next day, the hosts planned for us to go around and shop, and sight see. There was a suggestion to go to an island, climb a mountain, or go to the beach. The latter won, much to my dismay.

Nothing was special at the beach. If you know
me very well, you’d know why. But since this is a re-telling of what
happened there, I could very well say that, "The beach was fun!". But
that wouldn’t be really me telling you that. It would be the lobster-skinned
basses plus one tenor who did not only enjoyed the Malaysian sun, but
took our attention quite well with their naked high jumps. "The beach
looks great!", that again wouldn’t be me but the sopranos and the other
altos who took quite a load of pictures that would put any beach
magazine to shame (if a magazine of that kind existed, anyway).
I did pose for several pictures. But it was just too hot–too hot for
comfort and too for fun. So when the other feeling kj’s were invited to
go to the mall, I was just too excited to get out. So they had fun, and
I had my own share of fun, too– under a big umbrella, drinking a large
bubble-gum flavored SLURPEE, and eating honey-dipped anchovies (was that anchovy? oh, well i didn’t really enjoyed that, unlike kuya Homer who even licked his fingers to the last bite), without any care in the world.

We didn’t really get around much. It would be safe to say though
that Kota Kinavahloo is a nice little city. Not too many reckless
drivers. Cute little cars.  Buildings were okay. Roads were clean.
Friendly people. Great fried noodles. Awesome chili tuna. And cheap
prices.

Primmed and Propped Up

This column is dedicated to altos. Here’s a toast to them with no holds barred. Jealous?! Write your own blog.

Blessed are the altos, for they shall be the center of attraction.
Who’s to say that altos are such a pain in the ass? No one! Everybody’s
just got to love us… warm, fun-loving, pleasant, obedient, punctual
(oh, yeah!!!), and sharp sight readers that we are.

To celebrate the lovable us, we dressed up that Monday evening for no reason at all…enhancing the ravishing beauty we already possess. (Mwahahaha! Blog ko to!!! Besides, sayang ang formal clothes na binaon namin, noh). So
kahit na sugat-sugat ang legs ni Jagger, mukha mang principal si Shy at
supervisors sina She at Sugar, carry pa rin namin ang get-up.

Let the indomitable spirits of the altos live on! We, who are unacclaimed, yet obviously the best section. ;-p

Was that a showdown or what?!

The dinner turned out to be in a semi-formal setting—so
once again, the altos’ intuition proved to be correct. We ate in a
clubhouse, near a beach, with a tempting swimming pool, a kiddie
playground, and dim yellow lights perfect for a social and semi-romantic
evening. But of course, the event was far from romantic. There, toasts
and speeches were given for the recent success of the Mega Concert for
Peace. As the night wore on, there were several requests for us to
sing, so sing we did.

Chan Mali Chan, a Malay song was greatly applauded, Man in the
Mirror hyped up the evening, and the Two Ilocano Folksongs were a bit
chaotic. Haha. But I guess they didn’t notice that.

The Golden Angels sang When You’re In Love, a song with a very
catchy tune and sounds a lot like The Corrs. Most of the songs they
sang were songs from the Mega Concert, so most of the people could sing
along with them.

Kuya Bojo was given an ethnic instrument (I forgot the name). It was
made up of small bamboo pipes held together by a ba-o look-alike kind
of thing. Only it has a snout you blow on to make the sound. The bamboo
pipes have little holes for the notes, which sounded like a
harmonica–only less edgy and has got rounder tones.

On the way home, Kuya Boj, music whiz that he is, have somehow
figured out how to play it and already gave us a mini concert of three
untitled pieces.

Morning Visitors

On the day we have to leave, these people gave
us a visit to say their last goodbyes. We have Jolie (who was popular
among the Amba guys), the newlyweds Mr. Bass soloist and his wife, er,
Aylwina (not her real name, tho, but a name we coined for her because
she looks so much like Aylwin Yonathan), Joshua–who got the
coolest voice of all, and some other Koreans from the Golden Angels.
There were also some of the Filipinos we met there who gave us plaques
of appreciation, and bought all our amba t-shirts. The chinese hosts
who lent us the house and cooked our food, were also there.

Click, click, click!

Sa Bahay ni Koya

Who said one has to sign up for PBB when all one has to do is be an
Amba (Be sure you’re a member of the core group, tho)! You get to have your own share of ‘reality drama’, live in one
house with a host of other people (and personalities in their own
rights). You get pissed off with people–and love them at the same
time. Like the time when some people just move so slow, and you can’t
take a bath anymore because they’ve hogged all the time left. Or people
who just dump their plates on the sink and expect some angel to wash
their plates for them (hello, get a clue?!). Then there are
people who would, quite untactfully, complain about food, complain
about farting, complain about the water, complain about whoever and
whatever. Some just feel right at home, and wouldn’t really care how
they look like– so with enough oil on their face to make the Arabs
filthy rich, with craggy hair all over the place, and a crabby mood to
match–will make their way to the kitchen and mingle with those who
have taken a bath already.

There were pretty humiliating moments, too, like when Janelle
vocally complained about this guy’s underwear displayed in the living
room, with Zernan butting in to say that whoever owns the brief will be
gagged with it. Later, they found out it was Uncle Leomer’s.

Then there was another time when after the concert, I was dying to
take a bath, and in a hurry, I changed from the Filipiniana uniform to
a bath towel and knocked on the bathroom door profusely to rush whoever
was inside. I even called out quite loudly and in the bossiest tone I could muster, "Hey, pakibilisan! Madaming
nkapila!". When lo and behold, Pastor Saban opened the door and was
quite apologetic for brushing his teeth there. I was doubly apologetic!
My goodness, me and my big mouth!

Another time was when the guys decided to spook the other members
who came home late. Of course, it wasn’t our fault our driver wanted to
show us a bit of Kota Kinabalu night lights. So we come to an unlit
house, unaware of the shadows behind the gate. But, oh man, it would
have been a brilliant idea…but the timing was off! They were so
excited to scare us, I guess, that they shouted a little too early.

Airport Mishap Part 2

Some people just don’t know what a group
check-in is. If you do, then you are very lucky–you just saved
yourself from a huge embarassment. If you don’t, then read this very
carefully: Group check-in is for the people who are travelling in
groups of three or more. When they check-in their baggages, anybody who
is not a part of the group CANNOT just cut in and say–"you are
checking in too many baggages, I have to check-in mine too". Wait for
your turn, amicably, since the plane wouldn’t really run out of space
for your baggage, especially if you’re on that flight. Need more
elementary explanation?

So there’s this one middle-aged lady, bless her soul, who just
cannot grasp the idea of a group check in. She was very furious when
all of our baggages seems to be on her way. It was just too many for
her–and she was probably worried there won’t be enough space for her
or whatever. Siningitan daw namin sya. So she kept butting
in–and insisting that she should be checked-in. How could they even do
that when half of our baggages were checked in already? When her
requests weren’t granted, she just stood there and with her mouth like
an unbridled horse with a sparkler on its butt, expressed her views
about the unsolicited injustice. ("rolls eyes*). Honestly, what would
you do when you are busy checking-in your stuff, and an old lady stands
on the way with a mouth, the likes of a machine gun,  keep on
emphasizing that it was supposed to be her turn?

Hmmm, I think Kuya Homer knows the answer to that.

…Bye-bye KK!!!

"Good morning queen!" and the new Wuzzer in town

Finally, after several unsuccessful tries of playing the famous
game, Buklo, sa bahay ni Koya, the homeward bound bus provided a
not-so-perfect haven for those who were determined to say "Hi, Jack!"
and "Good morning, Queen!". Those who have played the game would know
how FUN the game is. And I mean, good, old, unadulterated fun testing
your motor skills and mental abilities. Those who watched the game on
the sidelines–well, they enjoyed seeing who gets the letter on the
forehead, or laugh at the one who says "Hi, King!" or whatever.

So
who’s the new wuzzer aka biggest LOSER in town?! Pave the way for the
all-time, self-imbued gymnast by accident, male chorus loving, very
unrhythmic "DRAG" king–Vincent Paul Manez!!!

When all is said and done..

Thus the story of the last tour I experienced as an official member of the Ambassadors. Thankfully, once an Amba is always an Amba. Wherever I might be in the world, I know I would have the kind of home to go back to made up of friends who I’ve learned to love for how sucky they really are. May we always keep on singing as one!

With all the activities that have transpired since we got back from Sabah, I have not been able to  continue my KK stories. Thus, I might have left you hanging in the air on what happened on the few days we spent there. For that. I am very sorry. Actually, I have finished writing part 2 several days ago, but my connection timed out at that time and i was not able to save the blog post before I could publish it. Hence, the re-typing, and the long delay. So here goes, if you’re still interested..

The Messiah Family

Hmmm, so where was I?? Oh, this one’s on the Friday night, vespers program.

A man had three strong and handsome sons. The oldest was the strongest and handsomest of all, so the rest of the family was banking on him to be a preacher just like his dad. However, polio afflicted him which stunted his growth and prevented him to pursue theology. His two brothers went on to become preachers in their own right, while he decided to take something else in a local university. Because of his sickness, he decided to challenge the Lord by giving him a whole year solely dedicated to serving him. A lover of classical music, it was his habit to sit in front of the record player every morning and listen to classical music for an hour. He then thought to serve the Lord through music. Korea have several churches that regularly perform Handel’s Messiah. But the church this man belonged to have never performed such a wonderful and powerful oratorio. He decided to invest his time on studying the famous oratorio and vowed to perform it by the end of the year. The youngest brother who was at the Philippines at that time, weren’t around to help thus his room was turned into an office by his oldest brother. When he went home for a vacation, he was shocked to see his room swiped out clean. There was only a typewriter on top of a small desk and several letters attached to the ceiling. He later learned that his brother was painstakingly typing letters using his two index fingers, to write to all those who did not practice regularly. He did finally have a regular 250-member chorale that attended faithfully every weekend.

Fast forward to the following year. After a successful performance of the Messiah, this man’s family tried to match him off with several ladies. They tried to set him up on blind dates but was only turned down later when his dates finally saw his physical conditions. Convinced that he was never going to find someone who would love him for who he is, he decided that he was better off as a single man, anyway. One lady was bold enough to propose to him, though. She was an alto and faithfully attended all the Messiah rehearsals and have seen how this man dealt with adversity–despite of his conditions. They married each other the following year.

Meanwhile, the second brother also met a lady who was talented and who seemed to come from the Lord. Later, they learned that she was one of rehearsal pianists in the Messiah and was also an alto member. They married each other the next year.

Their father was so delighted that his two sons married ladies—who, if not for his oldest son’s promise to give the Lord a whole year–wouldn’t have met them. He was so happy that he put a very large picture of the 250-member choir on one of the walls in his house. It stood there prominently, reminding them of the blessings God gave them.

The youngest brother went back to Korea after finishing his studies, and got engaged to a beautiful lady. He planned for her to meet his family on a special dinner at his father’s house. After dinner, his fiancee noticed the picture on the wall. When they told her that it was the Messiah concert his oldest brother had invested on several years ago, she told them that she was there, and sang as an alto. And there she was on the picture–forming a complete triangle from the other two ladies her fiance’s brothers have married.

Thus, the youngest son, who was Pastor Joshua, recounted the wonderful story of how God gave them special persons in their lives just because one man was willing to sacrifice a year for the Lord.

Sabbath in Sabah

The Sabbath morning promised clear sunny skies. The events of the day, however, would remain like a grey cloud, undecided whether to dissolve into rain or not.
To Fast, Too Furious- Matakaw ang Amba. Period. It’s a fact! With all the ‘dupangs’ that have come and gone, there will never cease to have a dupang understudy–or if not, eating a lot a.k.a wiping the plates clean is almost always, a collective effort. So when it was announced that Saturday was fasting day–hmmm– TRAGIC. We did eat a bit of breakfast, but lunch was totally out of the picture. So we had a mini ‘devotional’  instead while waiting for call time. Good thing, walang nag ala-Becky during the concert.
Wiped out bruncher- The biggest mistake (on the hosts’ part) was to feed us after the concert. We were hungry to the Nth power. So just imagine when we saw the table laden with Thai food! Another mistake was that Kuya Boj wasn’t with us so there was no one to remind us of social decorum. Literally, the plates were wiped clean. The host, seeing that the table was out of food, cooked again, and the moment he put the food on the table, we were like flies, swarming on the hot fried noodles. And as fast as the food came, twas the same rate it was gone. It happened three times, and the worried look on the host’s face was inevitable. Kahit palaman, hindi pinatawad! One member was wiping the jam jar clean with bread para talagang masaid. Ganun po kame ka-gutom. We sang a song for him to alleviate the stress we put him under, and I think that worked quite well.

Penetecostal Movements for Dummies

Now, I have nothing against Pentecosts and their way of expression in music and worship. Truth is, it’s not my thing. It gives me shivers to show passion by raising my hands and waving it in the air. So when I’m not used to doing something–and I’m forced to do it without my consent…well, that just sucks big time!
360 degrees and more goosebumps- So we were there, out in the field, on this gigantic circular stage. We sat around the stage facing the choirs who were seating on makeshift bleachers, also encircling us. Get the picture?
Lip sync etc. -Most of the songs, I heard for the first time. Just imagine facing a thousand-member choir expecting us to lead them while the words of the song just keep swimming in my head, refusing to be fished out. I tried to make my own kodigo by putting the lyrics on a post-it, and pasted it on my palm. It worked alright for awhile.
The great pretender- Watching all those VOP series proved to be helpful. However, it took quite awhile to jive with the rest. It required serious mental coaxing to raise my hands in the air, look at the sky, close my fist, and shake it a little bit, sway to the very loud music, beat my chest in sentiment, and smile to everyone as if i’m enjoying the whole thing. I dare not look at the other Amba who I’m sure were struggling also. But I can’t help it. I just have to check them out. Josh looked as if he was trying to open up the heavens, Mark M and Mark G were trying to part the waters, and my brother looked like he was gonna cry at every song. But at least the effort was there. The rest of the Amba, well, we all have to do better come Sunday night.

Princely Gestures–

How would you feel if the president of AUP and his PR Director cooked for you? Awwww..too sweet. But possible. Thanks for that wonderful meal, sirs! The best talaga kayo!

If any of you have wondered where I have been the past few days, why I had quite a long writing fermata, and what the hell I was up to–then get that coffee, sit back, and relax, for this is going to be one long read..
The Ambassadors participated in a 1000-voice singers mega concert for peace in Kota Kinabalu, Sabah last week (July 11-17). I was anticipating the regular 5-day concert tour–gala concerts in the evenings, sacred concerts on he weekend, lots of food, lots of people, great shopping and one great choral festival. Never, in my wildest dreams (at least pertaining to the history of Amba) did I imagine that we were in for a big surprise.

Two for the ride:

 I don’t really know what went behind the ticket booking, but the Amba travelled in two groups. The first group of 20 members left Wednesday morning from AUP and travelled all the way to Macapagal Airport at Pampanga. The second group of 9 members (where I was a part of) left the next day.

Airport Mishaps:

Money Matters- The amba cds, memorabilias, and personal belongings caused the first group an overwhelming excess baggage costing P20,000! Another surprise was that we thought we were supposed to pay P750 for terminal fee (which was P600 pala talaga), only. Meron pa palang added tax fee of P1220. Alot of the members didn’t have much cash. Thankfully, some of them brought extra money. By the time the second group checked in the next day, financial matters were not something to get worried about. However, there was a slight glitch. Uncle Leomer (one of the group’s sponsors) overpaid—why he overpaid and why the cashier did not notice it is something I still mull over once in a while–which caused a stir and a delay on his part because the cash registry had to recount all the money paid for that day and all the receipts rechecked if every peso was really accounted for. They did figure out that he overpaid, and got his extra P500 back. That, of course took them quite a while to figure out.

The uber-friendly immigration officer- Meanwhile, Janelle, one of the youngest members and still of minor age was given a hard time at the immigration counter. Her papers were questioned and she was given a scolding by one of the officers. The same officer had given Darryl a hard time the previous day. When Darryl thought he lost his passport somewhere, he opted to ask that officer whether he left it there after the interview. She denied it and was even furious why Darryl would look for it there. Funny thing was, it’s on her desk. Hello?!?

One day late and delayed- So there we were, Thursday group, all excited to board the plane. As fate would have it, the flight was delayed five hours. Something went wrong with the plane from Kota Kinabalu so we had to wait for the plane from Macau to bring us to Sabah. After using up all our energies looking around the stores, eating up all the food we can afford to buy, and smiling at all the cameras we brought, Dr. Cerna had this brilliant idea of singing for the waiting passengers. There were only eight of us. Yet, luck was still on our side because we were a complete SATB–2 sopranos, 3 altos, 1 baritone, 1 bass and 1 tenor. We treated them to a mini concert of, er– three songs. Paru-parong Bukid, Feng Yang Ge (wherein which we were corrected by the Chinese people in the audience that it was supposed to be Tong Yang Fu), and Let There Be Peace on Earth. Still, there were lots of hours to kill. The management gave everyone a free McDonalds’ meal, and by the time we were done– there were at least a good two hours to spend our replenished energies on smiling at the cameras again and recall wonderful memories of the Xiamen trip.

Culture shocked and drowned in decibels:

All the while, we were thinking na malas kameng Thursday group. The first batch must’ve been having the time of their life in a beach somewhere. Honestly, we thought they were snorkelling or malling and have completely forgotten about us…huhuhu.. (kaluoy!) We learned later on that they spent almost the whole day in church practicing with the Golden Angels, a group of Korean vocalists (with a couple of Filipinas) na parang Heritage Singers meets FaithFirst, and the rest of the performers for the mega concert. Now the church was as big as Finster Chapel and a half. Of course, majority of the people are Malaysians (duh!) and the whole lot of them already know the songs by heart. What met the Amba at the church was a throng of people singing along with a really loud..and I mean really LOUD accompaniment cd (which was not really pure accompaniment). Some people had to go out of the hall once in a while to rest their ears from the torture. You can’t hear yourself sing, much less the one beside you. And just when you thought you hear the whole church singing, aha! cd lang pala yun. Or worse–imagination mo lang pala!

There, they also met Ms. Sabah (as in Binibining Pilipinas counterpart). You would never think that her demure looks would easily float away by the time she’s up there on stage singing her heart away with head banging, booty shaking, and ass slapping gestures. If one was really deaf, that person would think just by looking at her that she’s singing Bed of Roses instead of What a Friend We Have in Jesus.

The famous Pastor Joshua, the musical director of the event, was quite a ’shocker’, too. It was really hard to figure him out at first. He did some things that somehow offended the group–but then, it was their first time to meet him, so they pretty much obliged to what he wanted them to do. Then again, that was a first impression.

Kota Kinabalu at Last!

Twas a good feeling to finally set foot on Sabah’s soil! We were at the point of admitting that we were never gonna get there, or maybe if we did, the first batch have run out of fun times already. But then, we did get there and the first place we went to was a restaurant. And it was almost midnight! Nevertheless, walang matang inaantok sa gutom na tiyan, so we ordered what we thought was a-ok. Ayun, the lemon chicken I and Janelle ordered turned out to be a complete flop. Sugar and Tata’s mihon (fried noodles) has got to be the best. Clint’s garlic chicken was so-so. And Josh’s sweet and sour chicken was–uhh, sweet and sour?! Also, the fruit shakes came in all sizes. Pea-sized brain that we were, ordered the large size, only to realize later on that the large size meant a whole pitcher of fruit shake. So almost all of us got his/her own pitcher of mango or avocado shakes (which would have been easy to down if it weren’t only in the middle of the night!).

We come to the big house we were supposed to live in and find the rest of the group all snugly sleeping in their own comfy ‘kutchon’. I washed my face and lay me down to sleep at the nearest available space. Hayyyyy, salamat.

"Angel voices sweetly singing.."

The next morning, after the endless beso-beso and "we missed you"s, we were given an orientation on what we were going to look forward to for that day. They gave us the gist of yesterday’s events syempre with matching reenactment. We had to laugh it off, tho–for in truth, it was serious business. Going Pentecostal was something new for the Amba. First bad news for the day was that we have to wear the official Amba shirt (something we already wore the day before…eeek!) to promote sales. Second bad news was that the water was running low, thus taking a bath was optional. I chose to take a bath and had to take it in three levels. Step one was in the in the girls’ cr, but I had to dress up again because the shower was not working anymore. Step two was on the kitchen sink to wash my hair, and finally step three, I had to stall some of the guys into using their bathroom just so I could feel the water on my back and give myself the illusion that I took a normal bath.

We had to be divided in two groups again. A smaller group was chosen to represent the Amba in a press conference while the rest will go to the church and rehearse.

It was everything they said it would be. The music was as loud as before, so this time, we sat at the back for easier exit and less attention from the pastor. Since it was Friday, the rehearsals were all done in the morning. The rest of the afternoon was spent watching the korean version of the Voice of Prophecy concert on this big screen they set up in the church. Fat chance to sleep. And sleep we did.

Baclaran ba ito?

Some, however, did not doze off. They chose to sell the Amba shirts and pins out side the church–and by the end of the day was almost fluent with Malaysian sales talk. Amazingly, we reached 6,000 ringgit for that one Friday afternoon.

We had quite an exciting Friday night due to another accident that happened right across our gate. The road to Tagaytay and Balibago have always been accident-prone. Now, I don’t know with other areas like Tartaria or Pasong-Langka–but Putingkahoy, particularly the road right across us will never disappoint you to witness shocking and thrilling events.

So, yeah, as I was saying–Friday night–Jagger and RA was supposed to come to my house to practice for next day’s singing appointment. Aiza and I were almost finished drying up the dishes when RA came. The second he arrived, we heard a very loud bang and a screech of brakes coming from the main road. We all ran (by this I mean the whole neighborhood) to where we thought the sound was coming from. I was extra worried because I thought Jagger was still on the road trying to decide where to park. Thankfully, she and her sister, Myrtle were safe, but their jeep wasn’t.

Luckily, Jagger had already parked and was out of the jeep already when the terrible accident happened. An oncoming truck from Tagaytay was on the run because it hit a car (with people inside), somewhere near. In turn, he ran onto Jagger’s jeep, which was unfortunately parked beside but well off the road. He hit Jagger’s jeep pretty hard thus causing it to spin at 360 degrees—hit the antique shop, then made a sharp stop in front of Kuya Larry’s internet cafe, damaging only his AC. The truck swerved off the other side of the road and hit a pole. The collision caused the front to cave-in a bit–but enough to squish the three men sitting there, who were indeed very, very drunk.

Jagger was a bit hysterical–and was trying to get a hold of his dad and brother. Myrtle was a bit pale on the lips, and cannot seem to get over the fact that she was planning to stay in the jeep to wait for her sister, but changed her mind at the last minute.

By this time, traffic was brewing. A lot of the drunk ‘istambays’ on our side of the road who claim witness to the accident kept babbling on with what they saw. On the other side, some people were trying to rescue the three men squished inside the front area of their truck. My brother, who I coerced to help, brought one of the very delirious and bloody man to AUP clinic.

It was past 10 when everything finally cleared up. Funny thing was that the people whom the three drunk men were running away from were also there in the clinic. Harsh words were spent on them–but not worth much of the time because the three drunk men were—er, very drunk.

Tsk tsk tsk…

Q. What do you get after listening to Webern’s Symphonie, Op. 21, Messiaen‘s chamber music, Seeger’s Violin Sonata, Elliot Carter’s String Quartet No. 2, Crumb’s Black Angels for Electric String Quartet, Babbitt’s Philomel, Musorgsky’s vocal music, Skryabin’s piano music, Bartok’s chamber music, Shostakovich’s Lady Macbeth of the Misensk District, Hindemith’s vocal music, Stravinsky’s Rite of Spring, Berg’s Wozzeck, and Schoenberg’s orchestra and vocal music, and Wagner’s operas for the whole day???

A. ONE BIG STINKING HEADACHE!!! Man, I can still feel my head throbbing…

III. Vivo

So I was enjoying my thoroughly-washed hair. I’m Cleopatra no more—and gee, my hair smells terrific!
Good-smelling, straight hair, at its best—and it’s on my head!

On my way home yesterday
afternoon after a long day of teaching piano at Chrysanthemum church, I decided
to pass by Robinson’s supermarket to buy a shower cap, cotton buds, and trash
bags. My brother was supposed to pick me up at Pacita, but since he has to go
to  Manila, I had to take the jeepney. The trip to Robinson’s was unplanned , thus, I was carrying two heavy Music History textbooks. I decided to leave them at the baggage counter while I shop. Apparently, I enjoyed shopping (I have been some kind of a recluse for several weeks already, and the trip was a breather), and bought more than what I intended to . My favorite cereal was on sale, and I remember I needed a new face sponge. I also tried to sample Walastix Potato Sticks with Spicy Tomato Dip (couldn’t Regent  think of a more creative name for this product?!) and A-One Crunchies Corn Snack (Aba, A-one ko sa inyo!!!). Amazingly, I will get a freebie because I spent more than a hundred pesos. Wow, exciting. Ano kaya yun?? Thing is, I couldn’t find the  claim-your-freebies stall. So, whatever that was, I decided to pass.

To make the long story
short, I got home safe and sound. I checked my email, and continued answering
Grout’s online exam. With two hours to spend before I get sleepy, I decided to
continue reading the second to the last chapter of Stolba.

Ayun!!! I have not claimed
the books at the baggage area!!! I bet the books were sitting there, all cold and glum,
wondering why their owner forgot to reclaim them.:-( Hoping that the store is still open, I asked my
uncle to drive me to Target. With my mom and my cousin and I in tow, we drive
back to Balibago—and yes, they all sat there laughing all the way.

Oooh—my books hugged me the
moment the baggage guy handed them to me. They clung to me like babies in need
of—erase. Wrong example. They simply clung to me. Period.

On the way back, my cousin and uncle kept
muttering they missed watching Alaska’s basketball game that night. So I treated them at McDonald’s, instead—pang consuelo man lang.

So the moral of the story is:
Don’t wash your hair.