There Will Be Blood

One of the best things (or maybe worst) about being an OFW

is that you get to practice your english when talking to people,

be it in whatever form - carabao, jejemon, accented or fluent.

Last week, an early morning meeting was called upon by our Finance Manager. The whole office crew gathered together in surprise thinking what it's gonna be about. Would heads roll in the department? Salary increase finally? Speculations were traded between our mouths until the Manager discussed his agenda. After he told us the "new rule", everybody was dumbfounded, nobody wanted to talk. W-T-H!. Everybody was advised to talk in English even in casual conversations with fellows and especially, when someone from other nationalities is involved in the exchange. Anyone caught talking in native tounge would be penalized.

The Manager cited some relavant and quite understandable reasons for imposing the "new rule". First and foremost, he said English is the most commonly spoken language in the world and by using it more often, one gets to acquaint himself more comfortably with the formation of sentences and thoughts. Honestly, I sometimes suffer from manually translating a Tagalog statement in my head before I could say it in English rather than just letting the words flow unabruptly and without fear of any grammatical errors. Second reason is to excuse other nationalities from getting paranoid as they always think they are the subject when Filipinos buzz like bees in Tagalog or when everybody goes into hysterical laughter. In the office, Filipinos outnumber the other races, 16 out of 22 and in the whole company, maybe 70% of 300 employees.

So the quest for an all English environment begun in the office right after the meeting. But in as much as we wanted to take this challenge seriously, culture has made it uneasy to start with. Speaking in pure English is not common for most Filipinos and uttering the words with the same Tagalog twang makes it even funny to hear. Since no one else except ourselves would laugh at our unintentional murder of the English language, we obliged and let the blood spitting dare broke ground. It's good seeing the "progress" if you may call it, though it is still unusual, and funny at most time.

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As expected, Manny Pacquiao won via unanimous decision over Antonio Margarito in what others called a 'beating' match Sunday at the Dallas Stadium. Speed and heavy punches made up for Manny's lack of size and the result has sent Margarito to hospital bed right after the fight. He sustained a fractured right orbital bone and is scheduled to undergo surgery today. He has joined the rest of Manny Pacqiao's victims who took such a beating and turned their pretty faces into a swollen bloody mess. Carnage! Take a look:

Keep bleeding..You don't mess up with Manny.

And so Manny emerged victorious, a record eight consecutive wins in eight divisional titles. He truly makes our country proud. That being said, I won't try lambast his nose-bleeding English. Or did I just say that?