Love, Philippines

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I’m in the Big Bag Department—the bigger the tote bag, the better, because I carry my girl-scout essentials: umbrella, big purse, cellphone, cellphone charger, shawl, meds, rubbing alcohol, face. powder, lipstick, perfume, keys, etc. that a woman needs for daily living.

Note the “s” in mobile phones. I used to have four—Globe, Smart, Sun, and Bayantel.

But I’m getting older, and the shoulders are starting to complain. So, it’s time to switch to minimalist mode with the cutest bags I can find.

I now use tote bags as storage for smaller bags.

But because of the weather-weather app’s refusal to tell the truth and nothing but the truth about the weather, I now carry an umbrella when it’s cloudy, thus, needing a bigger bag for the rainy weather. . Although a boat is more necessary here in Cagayan de Oro.

Drainage systems and levees have been built in flood-prone areas of the CDO to encourage rain to find more appropriate exits once it hits the ground.

Water is like that Filipino bank: it will find a way. Even uptown CDO sometimes floods now. And surely other cities in the Philippines also have this problem. That’s probably the reason for the latest tourism slogan in the Philippines: “Love the Philippines.” Because love is blind, thus, makes the tourist ignore the faults of the country.

Yes, the slogan sounds like the country is begging for love. It’s like pity, please love Philippines. Tsk tsk People too.

The tourism slogan is like the cherry on top of the icing on the cake. You start eating the cherry, which is usually delicious, and you can now hope that the icing and the cake are also delicious.

Journalist Howie Severino has a suggestion: “What is a comma? Love, Philippines.” What is the better version—the Philippines is no longer begging. Instead, it’s a love letter that ends with “Love, Philippines.”

In Lynn Truss’s book, “Eats, Shoots & Leaves: The Zero Tolerance Approach to Punctuation,” she writes about this particular panda joke:

“A panda entered a cafe. He ordered a sandwich, ate it, then pulled out a gun and fired two shots into the air.

“‘Why?’ asked the confused waiter, as the panda headed for the exit. The panda makes a poorly punctuated wildlife every year and throws it over his shoulder.

“’I am a panda,’ he said, at the door. ‘Look for it.’

“The waiter turned to the relevant entry and, sure enough, found an explanation. ‘Panda. Large black-and-white bear-like mammal, native to China. Eats, chews and leaves.'”

His book is not exactly funny, sometimes it may bore the punctuation checkers, but it awakens the realization that there are such sticklers.

At a recent event, we listened to a speech that was clearly written at the last minute. The guest speaker couldn’t make it, so he sent a representative. A representative whose accent is noweyr heyr or theyr—that’s how he pronounces certain words.

Whenever a speaker starts giving speeches that people can hardly understand, that’s what I say, Binisay na lang gud na oi. Because the important thing is that a speech comes from the heart.

Is the correct punctuation from the heart, too? Hmmm.