Status: Starving
Music: White Flag – Dido

My friends from the university and I were playing Charades and the theme was “movie titles.” When an opponent drew “Little Nicky,” we thought it was a giveaway. So when he started acting it out for his team, for the first word, he just levelled his palm at his hips and his team shouted “Little” right away. Hmmm. But “Nicky” was something less easy.

One of our team members was Monique, also known as Nikki. Monique is not the skinny type. She’s a bit, er… endomorphic. It didn’t come as a surprise to us when the player who was acting out pointed to Nikki for the second word. What we didn’t expect was when someone from his team shouted: “Pig? Little Pig?”

Mean. Mean. Mean.

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One of our organisation’s applicants is this Japanese exchange student, Kazu. Kazu has been staying here in the Philippines since March. He takes up Philippine Studies. And we were surprised to find out that he was more fluent in Tagalog (our native language) than English. It was amazing, really. So one day, my friends and I had a small talk with Kazu.

Us: So Kazu, how do you find the Philippines?
Kazu: Mainit. (Hot)
Us: Oooh. Anything else?
Kazu: Madaming bakla. (Gay men are all around.)
Us: (laughing our guts out) Why? In Japan, are there no gay people?
Kazu: Meron din. Pero hindi kasing-ingay. (There are. But not as noisy.)
Us: Oh, it’s just here in this building. It’s just that we’re in the Mass Communication building so everyone just love… talking… out loud. Anything else?
Kazu: Maraming gwapo. (Many goodlooking men.)
Us: Oooh. How about the women? What can you say about the Filipinas?
Kazu: Malaki suso. (They have huge breasts.)

Monique, who was with us, pretended to walk out. She claimed it hit home. As we looked around, we realised how Kazu had that impression. Yeah, with Monique, Maj, Sanya, and Bunggay around, we couldn’t really blame Kazu for making that pretty accurate observation.

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Nina posted something like this on her blog last week, and I guess it’s my turn to explain a few things about my names. Yep, names. Plural. A’right. My real name is Edison. So why Yoshke? Yoshke is more like my pen and online name. I got the name from a Japanese animation “Wedding Peach.” Yoshke was one of the male characters; he was the heroine’s love interest. I liked his character in the series, so I chose that name. But of course, more than anything, I just really wanted to mock a Jewish friend. “Yoshke” is what Jews call Jesus Christ.

When I’m at Starbucks, my name changes to Edward. Why Edward? When ordering coffee, they ask for your name, right? I used to give them my real name Edison, but the conversation always went like this:

Barrista: May I have your name, sir?
Yoshke: Edison.
Barrista: I’m sorry. Erickson?
Yoshke: Edison.
Barrista: Oh. Okay, Jason.
Yoshke: Nah. Just write Ed.
Barrista: Right. Ted.

I still don’t know if there was something wrong with the way I speak, or they all have hearing problems, or it’s just that here in this country Edison, although famous, is not a popular name. So I think it’s wise to just use Edward to save time and spit.

Most people call me E.S., my nickname. Why ES? I don’t know, either. But whenever someone asks me, I just tell them that because Edison means Edward’s Son in Old English. But that’s not really why I’m called ES. Rumour has it that E.S. means Erwin-Siony. Siony is my mum. And Erwin… is NOT my dad. My dad’s name is Benito. So who is this Erwin? He’s the man my mum had an affair with. (Yeah, I know, don’t mention it.) But I don’t buy that idea, and will not. I have my father’s nose, and I look like my cousins on my dad’s side. DNA testing is not necessary. I am a Dimen.

Dimen is my family name. It is of Hungarian/Romanian origin. Here in a country where family names are either Spanish or Filipino, having a “weird” family name is a curse especially for a kid. My playmates called me “demon” when angry. They would draw a picture of a devil and post it on the board and write my name on it. They would also tease me “di men.” In Tagalog, “di” means “not,” hence saying I was not man enough. And it was a big deal because as a kid, I was sickly and weak.

I got over it learning that having an unusual family name actually worked for me, and was something I could use to my advantage. My teachers would notice and remember me so easily upon seeing the class list. I thought it was nice. But although “Dimen” is a Hungarian/Romanian name, I don’t think we actually have East European blood. Or if we did, then there’s actually very little of it left in the family. My aunt, however, told me that one of my great grandparents was German. It makes sense. There are many Dimens in Germany. Whatever. But I think it’s cool. I looove the German National Football (Soccer) Team. Hahahaha.

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