Questions in english

Questions in english

[Sagot para sa’yo] grammar the name jar

[Sagot para sa’yo] issue on "Drug Addiction". Be guided by the following questions in crafting your campaign. What will you do?how will you do it?

[Sagot para sa’yo] what do we usually say when punctuality is observed in any activity? a.filipino time b.spanish time c.american time

[Sagot para sa’yo] we filipino are mild drinkers hospitability

[Sagot para sa’yo] analyze how culture shapes the concept of self. look for theories that is related to it. Then differentiate individualistic and collectivistic culture and how it affect on self perception and social behaviour. Then provide realistic examples about individualistic and collectivistic culture. After provide conclusion on why did you come up with those theories.

[Sagot para sa’yo] personal information (e.g,name.birtdate family detail's

[Sagot para sa’yo] Directions: Read and analyze each statement, and then identify kind of stereotyping it implies. Write the letter of the correct answer in your answer sheet. A. Age Stereotype B. Gender Profiling C. Cultural Stereotype 1. Men are strong and do all the work. C 2. Filipinos are happy people. C 3. An older one uses inappropriate language to describe a young worker. 4. All children don't enjoy healthy food. 5. Girls should be well-behaved; boys are expected to act out. D. Group of Individuals

[Sagot para sa’yo] The Conversionby J. Neil C. GarciaIt happened in a metal drum.They put me there, my familyThat loved me. The waterHad been saved just for it, that day.The laundry lay caked and smellyIn the flower-shaped basins.Dishes soiled with fat and swillPilled high in the sink, and grew flies.My cousins did not get washed that morning.Lost in masks of snot and dust,Their faces looked tired and resignedTo the dirty lot of children.All the neighbors gathered around ouropen-aired bathroom. Wives peered out from the upper floor of their houses into our yard. Father had arrived booming with cousins, my uncles.They were big, strong men, my uncles.They turned the house inside-out Looking for me. Curled up in the deepest corner Of my dead mother's cabinet, father found me.He dragged me down the stairs by the hair Into the waiting arms of my uncles.Because of modesty, I merely screamed and cried.Their hands, swollen and black with hair, bore meUp in the air, and touched me. Into the cold Of the drum I slipped, the tingling Too much to bear at times my kneesFelt like they had turned into water.Waves swirled up and down around me, my headBobbing up and down. Father kept booming,Girl or boy. I thought about it and squealed,Girl. Water curled under my nose.When I rose the same two words from father.The same girl kept sinking deeper, Breathing deeper in the churning void.In the end I had to say what they all Wanted me to say. I had to bring down this diversionTo its happy end, if only for the pot of rice Left burning in the kitchen. I had to stop Wearing my dead mother's clothes. In the mirrorI watched the holes on my ears grow smaller. Until they looked as if they had never heard Of rhinestones, nor felt their glassy weight.I should feel happy that I'm now Redeemed. And I do. Father died within five yearsI got my wife pregnant with the next.Our four children, all boys,Are the joy of my manhood, my proof. Cousins who never shed their masksPlay them for all their snot and grime. Another child is on the way. I have stopped caring what it will be. Water is still a problem and the drum Is still there, deep and rusty.The bathroom has been roofed over with plastic. Scrubbed and clean, my wife knows I like things,She follows, though sometimes a pig-head she is.It does not hurt to show who is the man.A woman needs some talking sense into. If not,I hit her in the mouth to learn her.Every time, swill drips from her shredded lips.I drink with my uncles who all agree.They should because tonight I own their soulsAnd the bottles they nuzzle like their prides.While they boom and boom flies whirrOver their heads that grew them.Though nobody remembers,I sometimes think of the girlWho drowned somewhere in a dreammany dreams ago.I see her at night with bubblesSpringing like flowers from her nose.She is dying and before she sinks I try to touchHer open face. But the water learnsTo heal itself and closes around her like a wound.I should feel sorry but I drown myself in gin beforeI can. Better off dead, I say to myselfAnd my family that loves me for my bitter breath.We die to rise to a better life.question:What desires or fears are repressed?

[Sagot para sa’yo] sandy beaches are example of intertidal zone meaning

[Sagot para sa’yo] Liza (be verb) pround of her brother