By Oliver Geronilla

Writing, as perceived by most of us, has its own ``rewards and punishments, its ups and downs.”

The blows could be so devastating that some give up not knowing that all they need to forge ahead is wise counsel plus the formula which a good number of us know: constant and correct practice.

Rewards come in many forms, and, in some cases, in amazing ways. A couple of weeks ago, I was pleasantly surprised when I received a parcel from Korea. And lo and behold, it was from the Korean Culture and Information Service (KOCIS).

Though it was officially announced that they would be sending the certificate and tokens of appreciation to the first batch of selected Korea bloggers who were not able to personally receive theirs during the welcoming ceremonies held in Seoul, I still could not believe my eyes when I saw them. I was elated.

A business card case, a USB, and of course the certificate signed by KOCIS Director Seo Kang-su made my day. They are examples of tangible rewards that make writers feel appreciated. It’s a feeling that cannot be matched with cash prizes.

Truth be told, I came to know about blogging for KOCIS through this paper. It was almost near the deadline. Nevertheless, I submitted my writing portfolio to korea.net just in the nick of time hoping that I would get accepted despite the nature of my write-ups which are generally about politics and culture.

I thought it an effective platform to make my views ``heard” and perhaps be considered, so I took the chance. And voila! I was one of those lucky few to have been given the opportunity to write about Korea and to be invited to various sporting and cultural events all over the peninsula.

This is a special kind of privilege, and we know all too well that every privilege comes with responsibilities. As such, I deem it necessary to write articles about Korea and its people at least twice a month, but recent events have made me a mere observer who does not put things in writing to avoid being accused of inaccuracy and yellow journalism.

This does not stem from the fact that I fail to see the forest for the trees or experience the things that I want to write about; it stems from my fear of being accused of being obsequious, or on the other side of the spectrum, of being two-faced.

Writing about Korea is a source of joy, but simply writing about the ``good things” does not present the whole picture to the reading public. My dilemma is that no matter how I try, I usually end up with pieces that show some of men’s weaknesses that result in their downfall: hedonism, superiority complex, contempt. This, I think, is a form of bias that emanates from my perception of the things around me; and this is a kind of ``penalty” that I shun.

Perhaps I need to widen my horizon and look beyond what my naked eyes can see. Only then can I do justice to what writing actually is. When that happens, I think it is the best reward any writer can ever have; finding meaning and a sense of accomplishment in weaving thoughts into words that promote unwarped weltanschauung.

The writer is a language instructor at Han Maum Academy in the Philippines. He can be reached at oliger95@yahoo.com.