THE SPEAKING THEY HAVE DONE

Inspired by Yoyoy Villame's funny song "Magellan," the title was taken from the line: "They did not understand the speaking they have done." Grammatically correct, but in a manner of talking or writing, it is unnatural and awkward.

Though my English is not as lowly as Yoyoy's funny song, taking a plunge into the writing world of the internet, with writers armed with MAs in English, their native tongue, is no laughing matter. Such writers have core competency of the language. Their subconscious and acquired knowledge and skill have become a "tool room" inside their brains that, by default, help them out in finding the right nuts and bolts they need in their writing jobs at hand.

I needed such core competency. So, one morning, I told my wife that I would go on self-study leave at the basement to read books on writing and write as many articles as I could. The latter were writing "exercises" as suggested in one book to "make writing a habit," like learning to play the piano or guitar a little every day, for it to become a familiar instrument. My finished products I posted in our family chat room for any valuable feedback.

Weighing up my writing, without bias, outside my family, I took a fresh look at the comments in my sister Nasie's eulogy that I wrote. Mimi's best friend Racquel's word "touching" and the "beautifully said" phrase by Marilyn, Inocencia, and Blanche, have enkindled my enthusiasm. I sent Jing my "exercise" article below, "Second Dose," and her likening it to reading a NY Times investigative report was flattering.

After a month in the basement, I called my son Leigh Roy, my one-man technical department, and my daughter Dionne Arae, my one-woman IT department, and told them the one idea whose time had come – my own blog. Knowing beforehand I would focus on the thinking and writing process, both handled all the technicalities needed in putting up my blog.

Today, after writing 7 articles in my ATABAY blog, a sophisticated AI-powered app has assessed my writing and put my blog in the top 20% of all its users worldwide in terms of its mastery criterion. Not bad so far for a Pinoy engineer-writer with only 6 units of Freshman English in his curriculum vitae.

SECOND DOSE

When my wife and I got our second dose of Astra Zeneca vaccine for seniors, it was a hectic day.

Driving our car while looking for a parking space, we were surprised by the long line of people snaking outside Robinson's mall. Puzzled, we asked around what was going on, but got no clear answer. Confused, we looked for one end of the long line, oddly enough, we found instead two ends.

Eventually, we spotted the end of one line for seniors only. Inching at a snail's pace, people entered the mall entrance one at a time. After almost two hours of standing and walking under the heat of the morning sun, we found ourselves inside the air-conditioned shopping mall.

Overstretched for standing so long, we soothed our eyes by looking around the mall's spacious vogue interior and relieved our achy body by breathing the mall's cold tonic freshness. Little did we know, however, the mall's cool ambiance was just a makeshift breathing space for the real ordeal that was still to come.

Inside the mall, a depressing scene unfolded before our eyes. Just as the long line of people had snaked outside the mall for two hours, so too inside, the same long line snaked again. We found ourselves at the food court area while the start of the line was at the cinema lobby -- the far side of the mall.

Making do of you-eat-first-while-I-hold-the-line tack, we lunched out on the line with grilled chicken I bought at the food court. Surprisingly, it tasted good; maybe because of my not having savored it for over a year due to pandemic lockdown. But, finishing off the grilled chicken -- minus its usual soy sauce with cut lemon dip -- due to out-of-place eating position, was a let-down.

After our "fast-break" lunch, one health officer informed our cluster at the end of the line of the cruel reality that we would be "processed," by her estimate, after dark already. She added that another venue -- La Salle Academy -- was opened to ease off Robinson's congestion and assured us of no long line there.

Instantly, we drove to La Salle Academy, and contrary to what the health officer had told us, we found a line of people wormed its way through the school's narrow gate. At Robinson's, though we put up irritably with the seemingly endless wait on the long line, the mall's cool ambiance somehow made up for such hassle. At La Salle, on the other hand, though we took on a relatively shorter line, the humid dusty campus would sap our strength physically, impair our senses mentally, and shorten our temper emotionally.

Against all the odds, we decided in knocking off our day at La Salle.

Twice the line came to a standstill: first, due to the processing mix-up of people; second, the Sinovac vaccines' running out of supply. The latter was a "blessing in disguise" for us AstraZeneca vaccinees because crowds of Sinovac vaccinees were told to just come back when Sinovac vaccines arrive -- cutting down the line shorter.

To cut this line, er, story short, we left La Salle fully vaccinated after dark.

That was over a month ago.

Today, vaccine inequity splits the world into coronavirus vaccine "haves" and "have-nots."

"Vaccine inequity is the world's biggest obstacle to ending this pandemic and recovering from COVID-19.... the challenge of our time. And we are failing." – WHO

Our own experience showed PH as a "have-not." So sad. And our world is failing. So true.