first trip to subic last weekend with six other people, most of whom are co-teachers at the department. i would have to say that the whole thing - from the preparation to the ride back to metro manila and laguna - was quite an operation to be proud of. despite a number of inconveniences that would make any obsessive planner wet his underpants, the group handled it properly and with surprising calm. no space for complaints, no need to point fingers at (well maybe afterwards and with select people), no whiny nyak-nyaks.

since i started traveling to different parts of the philippines, i'm always wary of going with a group consisting of more than four people. i always think, four people, four heads, four sets of idiosyncracies. and given that we were seven in this recent trip, i'd like to think that each person's inclinations and pet peeves bounced off against the others quite nicely.

and as proof that over time, people shuffle their priorities when it comes to bringing what is essential to any travel destination, nobody brought a camera. well one person did, but the camera did not have a roll of film. nice.

mid-afternoon of saturday, i had a slight regret for not bringing a camera: i remembered my ritual of taking a sunset picture of all the beaches i go to. so there, one less sunset.

it was (at least for me) a sort-of send-off for two of them who are leaving the department. i wouldn't say that it's a sad affair, for this option is always hanging above our heads, both self-determined and forces-that-be-determined. nobody broke into tears, nobody made a stupid speech. but there was an extra tinge in the voices of each person dropped off in their respective stops (text me if something's up, thank you's, etc.)

i, in particular, have a close affinity for one of them. in a bus trip to a friend's book launch, i recounted to her my memory of the first time i saw her at the department. i was in my second year of teaching and was having one of my first lunches at the nearby cafeteria during first week of classes. she had just shaved her head bald and though i do think a bald head rocks on both men and women, some warning signal lit off my head to steer clear from her, to not have anything to do with her. and yes, i immediately realized she was a lesbian.

now this is the part of the post where i will clarify that i have nothing against lesbians, the whole yada-yada. it's just that i've never been friends, let alone have a working relationship, with one. indicative of my first-job innocence, i was thinking, what do we talk about? will i blurt out anything impolite? do i refer to her significant other as girlfriend? or the more antiseptic 'partner' (which i personally do not like using since it sounds like 'partner-in-crime').

and so the weeks passed and i didn't say hello to her. it didn't help that her cubicle was near mine. (awkward shifting of eye movement to 'straight ahead' no turning left) it wasn't until my friend starting chatting with her that i myself started having conversations.

at the beginning, i felt that i came off as rather tentative about things. but one of the first things i noticed was her easygoing style of referring to and talking about things and people. and she didn't mince words when it comes to her opinions. which is always a good thing in my book.

moreso, she was a visual artist and had a lot of books on modern art. and for me, coming from a recent trip at the time that gave me the opportunity to see first-hand the artworks i only consumed through reproductions and art books, i was relieved that i finally got to talk about my curiosity about modern art with someone who knew and practiced it. i never thought i could rattle off damien hirst, barbara kruger and marcel duchamp without sounding like a pretentious fart. (now that i think about it, it just comes full circle with the first time i learned about the dada movement and made it my research topic for comm 2. i thought duchamp's urinal was just deliciously annoying.)

i listened intently to stories of her struggles as an artist, from the thin market for her art to the turf wars and inane cliques that infest and unfortunately dictate who is celebrated and who is relegated to the corner, something that is not merely confined in her community. but it wasn't the struggles that i personally took as a lesson for myself. it was the undeniable fact that she committed to doing art because she just had to, like there was a great part of her that would be hollow if she merely contented herself with mainstream work.

most of all, i appreciated her openness of heart and her insane, insane generosity. she is one of the reasons why i prefer conversing with older people - the calmness about things, being matter-of-fact about insecurities, a level of understanding that could be mistaken for cynicism. other than my friend who teaches in diliman, i never encountered such openness and and generosity with any other person and so for me to be at the receiving end many, many times, i am forever grateful.

i will spoil the drama of the last two paragraphs by inserting the small but important detail that what probably made us mesh the most was the fact that we both poke fun at people in the same way, only she is the runaway winner. but i make my mad dash every now and then.

sometimes i think of her struggles and then i think of mine. i have to admit that by many indications i am still at the starting point and there are times when i think i am given less credit than what is proper. (but the moment i think this, i shudder, shudder, slap myself for thinking this, forgetting for a brief moment my not-so-recent commitment to the idea that one does not go about things to be recognized. one does them because they have to be done. or as i always stress to those who'd care to listen, one engages in his or her chosen art or any passion in life because he or she has something to say. it may be uncomfortable, it may be unacceptable. but it has to be said. it has to be confronted.)

(at the risk of sounding like the recent blog post of a friend waxing poetic about her failures and, as another friend commented on them as being too honest, too vulnerable, forgive, o friend, i think i am about to chart that road right now.)

in my three years of teaching, i came to realize that i am not an easy person to understand. a number of times i've gotten the comment that i am, well, weird (no surprise there, give me something to chew on, people). but i've reconciled myself with the fact that my way of seeing and doing things is not for everyone. but with the few who have verbalized to me that they did get it and feel relieved that i positioned things in that manner, i am glad it was they who 'got it' after all.

it baffles me, the things that motivate me. doing things out of spite is one of them, and is something that my mother reminded me not too long ago. i love to push people's buttons. it's not that i see them as lab rats or anything. it's just fascinating how human behavior can take on predictable, if not dangerous patterns, as how geometric shapes abound our daily life, from beehives to architectural wonders. my mother said that however cliche this may sound, there are two sides to everything. the things that enrage a person to get back at people are also the things that drive his or her passion to be better and not just be.

in the coming months, i have to do things which are said to be necessary for my short-term personal survival. one can probably note the withering look i am issuing as i type this. i do think these are not necessary for they are not the sole mark of one's intellectual integrity but in some parts of the universe that is the academe, they are required.

and so i take on this situation with much curiosity. and the same old arrogance that has surprisingly not diminished over the years. it would be interesting how that arrogance is to be put into good use over the next few years.

right now, i wish there were nineteen other versions of me. so many things and people are competing for my attention. all of them are worthy endeavors, all of them requiring undivided attention. how to give complete attention to competing entities. some may have to give way, others have to be ignored, however hard it may be.

and so, after twenty paragraphs, i say with unwavering earnestness that, after all, everything is good.