Expository Writing
Okay, so like I said before, I'm gonna start posting some of my essays on my blog. Last school year, during our second semester, we took English 101, which was Expository Writing. EN101 was much easier than EN12, which was more about critical thinking and analysis which I suck at.
For the semester, we were required to write descriptive essays, definition essays, narratives, cultural critiques, travel profiles, character sketches and a memoir to compile into our anthology as our final paper. As you may have figured out, I greatly prefer writing subjectively rather than objectively; I would choose description over analysis any day.
In this untitled writing exercise, our class was required to go on a field trip of sorts, to a village in Marikina nearby our school.
On the day that our English class was arranged to go somewhere outside of Ateneo in lieu of the usual classroom and lecture session, I didn’t know what to expect. We took an unfamiliar route, starting from behind the Manang’s eatery; through the back gate and from there taking a 15-minute walk along the road which eventually led us down a staircase and into an area that I didn’t even know existed. Among the places I had imagined, this was not one of them. A part of Marikina City, Barangka is a community which consisted of narrow streets, walls defaced with various forms of graffiti, and houses placed so close next to each other that they gave one the impression of books crammed together on a small shelf, competing for space. The area gave off a vibe akin to isolation, and the seeming smallness of the area as well as the numerous corners we had to turn reminded me of a maze, although my lack of a sense of direction could have attributed to the notion as well. The pathways between houses could barely allow three people side-by-side to pass through.
There were but a few cars on the road, with the occasional tricycle kicking up the dust as it passed by. A number of people were on bicycles, while some gave them up altogether and were going on foot. It was interesting, how people were moving around. On one street, a man carried two large containers holding the ingredients for taho with him, walking steadily along until someone held out a mug through the window and asked him to fill it up; and later as we walked on, there was another man, cutting off the tail and fins of some kind of fish, for a woman with bills of money in hand, waiting patiently for him to finish just a step outside of her home. Apparently in that place, the market came to the people.
There was an abundance of animal life as well, though the community was not without its greenery. Dogs of different sizes occupied the streets, though some were locked behind gates or held by a leash, one in particular barking viciously at whoever happened to walk by. The cats were taking naps from beneath parked cars, their kittens pouncing on bits of plastic that were being blown away by the wind. We happened to pass by what looked like a playground, an elevated platform with the usual slide-swings-see-saw set, where several kids were playing badminton by fours, and others were playing with the roosters that were scratching for food nearby. A little after that there was also a covered basketball court, echoing with the yells of more or less a dozen men wearing sandos and tsinelas, trying to snatch the ball away from each other. Our last stop was found at the end of another narrow alley-a grotto that held a statue of Mary, with various species of plants gracing its sides. We barely noticed the black cat that was perched on top of the whole thing, watching us tourists as we made our way back to school, trying to make it in time for our next subject.
For the semester, we were required to write descriptive essays, definition essays, narratives, cultural critiques, travel profiles, character sketches and a memoir to compile into our anthology as our final paper. As you may have figured out, I greatly prefer writing subjectively rather than objectively; I would choose description over analysis any day.
In this untitled writing exercise, our class was required to go on a field trip of sorts, to a village in Marikina nearby our school.
On the day that our English class was arranged to go somewhere outside of Ateneo in lieu of the usual classroom and lecture session, I didn’t know what to expect. We took an unfamiliar route, starting from behind the Manang’s eatery; through the back gate and from there taking a 15-minute walk along the road which eventually led us down a staircase and into an area that I didn’t even know existed. Among the places I had imagined, this was not one of them. A part of Marikina City, Barangka is a community which consisted of narrow streets, walls defaced with various forms of graffiti, and houses placed so close next to each other that they gave one the impression of books crammed together on a small shelf, competing for space. The area gave off a vibe akin to isolation, and the seeming smallness of the area as well as the numerous corners we had to turn reminded me of a maze, although my lack of a sense of direction could have attributed to the notion as well. The pathways between houses could barely allow three people side-by-side to pass through.
There were but a few cars on the road, with the occasional tricycle kicking up the dust as it passed by. A number of people were on bicycles, while some gave them up altogether and were going on foot. It was interesting, how people were moving around. On one street, a man carried two large containers holding the ingredients for taho with him, walking steadily along until someone held out a mug through the window and asked him to fill it up; and later as we walked on, there was another man, cutting off the tail and fins of some kind of fish, for a woman with bills of money in hand, waiting patiently for him to finish just a step outside of her home. Apparently in that place, the market came to the people.
There was an abundance of animal life as well, though the community was not without its greenery. Dogs of different sizes occupied the streets, though some were locked behind gates or held by a leash, one in particular barking viciously at whoever happened to walk by. The cats were taking naps from beneath parked cars, their kittens pouncing on bits of plastic that were being blown away by the wind. We happened to pass by what looked like a playground, an elevated platform with the usual slide-swings-see-saw set, where several kids were playing badminton by fours, and others were playing with the roosters that were scratching for food nearby. A little after that there was also a covered basketball court, echoing with the yells of more or less a dozen men wearing sandos and tsinelas, trying to snatch the ball away from each other. Our last stop was found at the end of another narrow alley-a grotto that held a statue of Mary, with various species of plants gracing its sides. We barely noticed the black cat that was perched on top of the whole thing, watching us tourists as we made our way back to school, trying to make it in time for our next subject.