Jojo and Jimmy showed me what was inside their lunchboxes – rice and dried fish. The fish, scaly and no more than three inches long, was half buried in rice that had taken on a grayish color after being soaked in ginamos (fish sauce made from anchovy fry) back home. That had always been their baon every day since they started school three years ago.
It was 7 p.m. and not one in the group had had dinner yet. They had just come from work. One of them had brought snacks for everyone and that would do for now. After the usual pleasantries, they got down to business. Tonight’s topic: designing a system to coordinate the group’s growing number of volunteers in six colleges and universities, four municipalities and a dozen support units in Cebu.
A sidelight to typhoons, one that is fun but must not be taken as an insult to those who suffer in their wake, is how these destructive forces of nature got their names. For sure, they don’t come whiffing through Pagasa’s radar saying, “Hi, I’m Frank. Behind me is Gener; and that’s Helen over there.”
When we were younger, typhoons reinforced our image of women as wielding influence over both the household and the universe. We rarely questioned why typhoons back then exclusively took on female names, and why the names peculiarly ended with “ing” and “ang.” We took it as God’s will. And He was a God who knew onomatopoeia, for if you listen carefully to the sound of a storm, it has an “iiiinnnnng” or “aaaaannnng” ring to it.
HIGH SCHOOL students from a mountain barangay in Pinamungajan, Cebu who are receiving education assistance from a group were given a personality development seminar recently.
The experience was unique for the 23 high school students from Lut-od National High School because it was the first time they were given a chance to learn about themselves in a non-academic setting.
“Me Na Me: A Personality Development Seminar” was held at the Hidden Valley Training Center and Resort in Barangay Lamac.
In one rare attempt at being a normal couple, my partner and I went out on a real date last Sunday. For us whose idea of quality time together is raiding ukay-ukay stores and eating pungko-pungko, “real date” means cuddling up in a park and feeding each other with Chippy and siopao asado.
We had our date in a park in Talisay City, and it was here where we learned that Magellan and Lapulapu were a couple, and that Magellan died under the weight of Lapulapu while they were making out.
Category: Column | 
Tags: crocodile, crocolandia, endangered species, exotic animals, preservation farm 
Tsinelas is organizing an art school for free to benefit kids from cebu city’s depressed areas. here’s the initial points agreed upon: children will receive free art lessons at the university of san carlos – college of fine arts and architecture in talamban every weekend. a 3-month (or 2-month?) module will be designed. handling the project are fine arts alumni and faculty members of usc-talamban. beneficiaries will be selected from elementary public schools and must come from poor families.
I still had this prick mark in my left arm as I wrote this piece. I had my blood screened for donation. I don’t know the patient, or what he’s down with. I’m not interested. I’ve been donating blood for 12 years now and most of the time only a hangover stops me from saying yes.
If somebody needs blood, and he sounds like he’s about to cry pleading over the phone, he means it. Lack of blood is not something people lie about. It’s blood, for Christ’s sake. And somebody needs it quick.
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