Posts

Showing posts from March, 2025

Kapok / duldol

Image
I couldn't resist not taking pictures of the duldol (Ceiba pentandra)  by the roadside near the Polomolok–General Santos border before local authorities decide to cut them them, like what they did to the towering, decades-old trees in General Santos City, Polomolok, and, more recently, Tupi towns, all because of road-widening. The trees are in bloom now. From afar, the leaves look like they are peppered with snow. Or dandruff.  

On Katrina Tuvera's The Collaborators

Image
    I read Katrina Tuvera's 203-page novel, The Collaborators, simply one of the finest novels you'll lay your eyes on. It traces the intertwining lives of Carlos and Renata, their daughter Brynne, and Jacob, son of Carlos's friend. The story spans key points in Philippine history: from the Japanese occupation, Martial Law, to the end of the 20th century, with President Estrada's impeachment trial in the background. I ordered the novel, along with a few others, a month ago from the Ateneo Press website, without knowing much about her and her genius. Since I'd started reading it last night, I couldn't put it down. Carlos Armando, 70 years old, will undergo surgery. He looks back at life, feeling the urge to pray. We get the sense that he must be an important man. But even important men must look at mortality at some point. And there he is in the first pages of the novel. He "gazes out the window at a darkening sky and feels the urge to pray. Not a religious ...

Afternoons at home

Image
Rare are the afternoons when I have idle time for myself. But yesterday was something else. There arrived an unexpected blessing—a pocket of sweet time when I had nothing to do.   As soon I parked the car, I greeted my mother in her room, interrupting her Netflix viewing. I headed out to the living room. The sun was glorious but not scathing. Photographers call the late tropical afternoons the golden hour. I went back to my desk to grab the camera, whose existence I only recall when I travel.  I jolted Paul from his nap. "Dali na!" I said. He yawned, stretched, and trailed me. After three years, we've figured out his body language. He was waiting for a treat, a belly rub, or some play time that involves an old tennis ball—or all of the above. "Hulat lang, Paul, ha?" I speak to him like I would to a three-year old. Nanay's small garden is a place of tranquility. You'd hear birds chirping. You'd see nests on top of the tree. They must feel saf...

Artificial intelligence

I do not disallow students to use AI; I have some policies in place for the courses I handle, especially my two-unit Research Class. My instructional design acknowledges that, whether I like it or not, my students are using ChatGPT or Claude or Gemini for their outputs. I may as well allow them to use it in situations where I can offer some supervision, albeit limited, making it clear that it can only be used for some instances, and should be cited, when applicable. That means I need to modify the teaching/learning strategies. The course design is a work in progress, but I'm glad to hear that my students are enjoying it. Students generally regard research courses as mere prerequisites, something they need to go through or pass before they complete their degree. To see them have fun--serious, meaningful fun--is my reward as a teacher. I am inspired to write something about AI here after I read this poem by Joseph Fasano entitled For a Student Who Used AI to Write a Paper . It may or...

Lake Sebu

Image

Chismis at Český Krumlov

Image