(originally drafted on 3/6/07 ... completed only today)
After two years of not going home to the Philippines, I was ecstatic to be back home. It was a cherished 13 days in dear old Manila with the hustle and bustle of city life and where meeting friends randomly becomes second nature.
I came home on February 14 to catch the best night of the UP Fair. True enough, ...
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This has been embargoed for over eight months due to extreme busyness.
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... it was the best night to be at UP.
It was like looking into the mirrors of the past to see the happiness that I so cherished when I was in UP. All those years of hard work but it's not just that. It's also the endless hours I spent in the tambayan (hangout) to wait for my classes and to exchange random thoughts with other UPians.
It was a place that left an impression in your heart and whenever you look in the mirror you see the product of that experience.
Coming so many years after my first year in UP (I've come back before), this was the only time I felt a bit detached. For one, I didn't know so many people. My batchmates were all on scholarships in Japan or elsewhere and I would be coming to UP to see UP and not to see my friends.
Gazing at the looking-glass of time, the outlines of the people are a bit blurry not as sharp as before but there is still the same feeling of home and excitement looking at it.
In life, we often look at our mirrors of happiness but instead of seeing the happy times, we look at the blurs. We lose sight of what the glory days held for us. We look at the advancing time and seek to recreate that time when we were at our prime.
To be stuck in that place would be tantamount to being stagnant. For people to move forward, we need to look at our mirrors of happiness as benchmarks and not as chain balls. It's what pushes us. It is what drives us to go to the future.
As I get older, it's easier to be caught in nostalgic moments. Looking at myself in the mirror, I want to see my former self. But would I be the way I am now if not for my former "glory days". No one can steal them from me. Not even the mirror of time.
So, I look at my mirrors of happiness and see the good old days. I try to look without bitterness or regret but only of nostalgia and of the hope that maybe, that same mirror will reflect today's reality.
Saturday, October 06, 2007
Friday, October 05, 2007
Social consumable
There are some days that you just feel like you can't be around people or perhaps you're not in your element so you don't want to see people or let people see you in that state. But because you've been in the light too much to withdraw from it might mean unpleasantries from other people.
I've been thinking about how my mom has become a social consumable. She's one of those people that everybody wants to get a hold of. She's in a position to help but not only that, she's just plainly a nice person to talk to or be with.
But to what extent should we become social consumables that we lose ourselves?
I was exchanging emails with a fellow correspondent. She said she was tired of doing so many reports although she likes it because the Filipino community around her has expected it from her and she has won their trust and she feels obligated to report on their events.
I told her that I used to be like that too. But I remember what my old priest said: "Trying to please everyone is the beginning of madness." It holds true for many of us who are people pleasers that we compromise our integrity for the sake of keeping the status quo or to avoid argument or confrontation and in the end we lose ourselves and our minds by plaguing ourselves with thoughts of "he said/she said". God forbid somebody should say something negative about us! It will literally drive you crazy to care what other people would or could say.
What about Jesus? He is the epitome of a non-pleaser but at the same time a social consumable. If it weren't for his mother he would have never performed that miracle simply because His time hadn't come. But he succumbed to maternal pressure. But He wasn't a crowd favorite among the Pharisees or Sadducees. They killed him for teaching love outside the Jewish template. He ate during fasting season and he challenged the status quo.
Where do we stop trying to please other people so that they will learn to love us for who we are and not for what they want us to be?
How do we become a social consumable who somebody will pay a high price to consume knowing that this one is unique and not the run-of-the-mill Joe or Jane? It's by being who we are and being proud of what we're capable of and acknowledging that we can't please everyone. It's not an excuse to be a social b**** but to know that each one if they dig hard enough can carve their own little niches in this world.
Do you have a "consume by" date?
I've been thinking about how my mom has become a social consumable. She's one of those people that everybody wants to get a hold of. She's in a position to help but not only that, she's just plainly a nice person to talk to or be with.
But to what extent should we become social consumables that we lose ourselves?
I was exchanging emails with a fellow correspondent. She said she was tired of doing so many reports although she likes it because the Filipino community around her has expected it from her and she has won their trust and she feels obligated to report on their events.
I told her that I used to be like that too. But I remember what my old priest said: "Trying to please everyone is the beginning of madness." It holds true for many of us who are people pleasers that we compromise our integrity for the sake of keeping the status quo or to avoid argument or confrontation and in the end we lose ourselves and our minds by plaguing ourselves with thoughts of "he said/she said". God forbid somebody should say something negative about us! It will literally drive you crazy to care what other people would or could say.
What about Jesus? He is the epitome of a non-pleaser but at the same time a social consumable. If it weren't for his mother he would have never performed that miracle simply because His time hadn't come. But he succumbed to maternal pressure. But He wasn't a crowd favorite among the Pharisees or Sadducees. They killed him for teaching love outside the Jewish template. He ate during fasting season and he challenged the status quo.
Where do we stop trying to please other people so that they will learn to love us for who we are and not for what they want us to be?
How do we become a social consumable who somebody will pay a high price to consume knowing that this one is unique and not the run-of-the-mill Joe or Jane? It's by being who we are and being proud of what we're capable of and acknowledging that we can't please everyone. It's not an excuse to be a social b**** but to know that each one if they dig hard enough can carve their own little niches in this world.
Do you have a "consume by" date?
Tuesday, August 21, 2007
UP Naming Mahal
Getting into the University of the Philippines (UP) was almost a fluke for me. I was running around applying to other schools and didn't know that I had been accepted on the pending list of UP. I almost went to another school! It would have never been the same. At UP, I found my lifelong friends. I found my roots. I found myself and I wrote till it hurt. It was the only school that I stayed in long enough to finish. It was literally the melting pot of your red activists, your braniacs, the most beautiful women, the not so beautiful men (sorry), and greatest of all, it was where we as students were taught that we are not divorced from society and that we should give back to our country.
I had been like that ever since my mom inculcated in us how the Government is sending us to school. This time, it was the people of the Philippines that was sending us to school.
There, I learned to be more "masa", more open to different points of view and more importantly, there I learned that if you try hard enough, you can really make it. On my first year, the dean of the college said, "It's not the smart ones that finish, it's the hard-working ones". I never classified myself in the "smart" category so I sweated blood to do my best. I could have been the average student in my mind. And thank God, I finished alright.
Through the years, a lot has changed at UP. The general education curriculum has been modified and a part of me disagrees because it doesn't mold us any more into the well-rounded UPians we are. Students can now pick and choose their classes. Something tells me that I wouldn't be able to relate to the products of the new system as I could relate to my peers and those older than me that were the product of the old system where we took, humanities, social sciences and P.I. 100 as prerequesites to other courses. We all had the same "shared experience".
One hundred years has passed and many things have changed. The demography is UP is slightly more monied, tuition is higher, parking space is a problem, etc.
For the 1998 centennial, UP has produced a new hymn. Here it is ...
UP naming mahal
Pamantasan ng bayan
Tinig ng masa
Ang siyang lagi nang pakikinggan
Malayong lupain
Di kailangang marating
Dito maglilingkod sa bayan natin
Dito maglilingkod sa bayan natin
Silangang mapula
Sagisag magpakailanman
Ating ipaglaban
Laya ng diwa't kaisipan
Humayo't itanghal
Giting, tapang at dangal
Mabuhay ang lingkod ng taong bayan
Mabuhay ang lingkod ng taong bayan!
I had been like that ever since my mom inculcated in us how the Government is sending us to school. This time, it was the people of the Philippines that was sending us to school.
There, I learned to be more "masa", more open to different points of view and more importantly, there I learned that if you try hard enough, you can really make it. On my first year, the dean of the college said, "It's not the smart ones that finish, it's the hard-working ones". I never classified myself in the "smart" category so I sweated blood to do my best. I could have been the average student in my mind. And thank God, I finished alright.
Through the years, a lot has changed at UP. The general education curriculum has been modified and a part of me disagrees because it doesn't mold us any more into the well-rounded UPians we are. Students can now pick and choose their classes. Something tells me that I wouldn't be able to relate to the products of the new system as I could relate to my peers and those older than me that were the product of the old system where we took, humanities, social sciences and P.I. 100 as prerequesites to other courses. We all had the same "shared experience".
One hundred years has passed and many things have changed. The demography is UP is slightly more monied, tuition is higher, parking space is a problem, etc.
For the 1998 centennial, UP has produced a new hymn. Here it is ...
UP naming mahal
Pamantasan ng bayan
Tinig ng masa
Ang siyang lagi nang pakikinggan
Malayong lupain
Di kailangang marating
Dito maglilingkod sa bayan natin
Dito maglilingkod sa bayan natin
Silangang mapula
Sagisag magpakailanman
Ating ipaglaban
Laya ng diwa't kaisipan
Humayo't itanghal
Giting, tapang at dangal
Mabuhay ang lingkod ng taong bayan
Mabuhay ang lingkod ng taong bayan!
Thursday, August 16, 2007
Resting on my itsy bitsy laurels
It's not everyday that one could get a compliment at work. If you didn't get any it meant that you were at least doing the job properly. The horror would be if you got a call from the boss - the conclusion would always be: What did I do wrong???
But today, after all the drama of my personal life, a translator came into my office and told me I did a good job with his Conference on Disarmament documents and for taking the time to look up all the names of the ambassadors who spoke at the Conference. I did it automatically because I knew the job was going to come back to us after he made his edits and we would retype the names anyway. But this extra effort I put would be unnoticed or at least not verbally appreciated. So, I feel good that for the rarest of moments, I receive a compliment.
I used to live on compliments but reality told me that one couldn't function like that. If there were none, it's like running on an empty tank. We must be our own fuel and God should be enough to affirm us. As long as we know that we are working to the best of our abilities, it should be enough. But it always makes me feel good to receive a compliment.
But today, after all the drama of my personal life, a translator came into my office and told me I did a good job with his Conference on Disarmament documents and for taking the time to look up all the names of the ambassadors who spoke at the Conference. I did it automatically because I knew the job was going to come back to us after he made his edits and we would retype the names anyway. But this extra effort I put would be unnoticed or at least not verbally appreciated. So, I feel good that for the rarest of moments, I receive a compliment.
I used to live on compliments but reality told me that one couldn't function like that. If there were none, it's like running on an empty tank. We must be our own fuel and God should be enough to affirm us. As long as we know that we are working to the best of our abilities, it should be enough. But it always makes me feel good to receive a compliment.
Tuesday, August 14, 2007
Runaway brother
As if the leaving of my mom and brother were not dramatic enough, my brother decided to run away the morning of their departure.
He had been sulking since he found out they were about to go home. You could hardly talk to him let alone bring up the subject.
The past weeks he had drowned himself in his friends, in activies for the Youth for Christ, including a conference here in Geneva and a service trip to Italy for the European Kids Village. In the hope of lessening the pain of the departure, we hoped that all these activities would somehow cushion the news of imminent departure. We were wrong.
We knew he was angry and upset about leaving but we didn't know to what extent he would take it.
To better capture the drama, I will tell the story with a timeline:
6.00 Wake up call
7.00 Departure of Mama for the airport for early check-in
7.40 Shower time for me
8.00 Reminder for my brother to take a shower
8.20 Talked to my brother to help me with luggage - he leaves the house
8.25 Comes back because he forgot something and leaves again
8.30 Mama has checked in her luggage
8.33 Mama calls brother and doesn't say where he is
9.10 Boarding time, brother no where to be found, reported to airport police that brother is missing
9.20 Tells airport ground staff that brother is missing and luggage will be offloaded
9.25 Supposed ETD (estimated time of departure) - no sign of brother
9.30 Baggage offloaded/Mama comes out of arrivals with baggage
10.00 Homebound meanwhile friends were called to inform and watch out for brother
12.30 Search for him at the gare; while other friends check out the airport; non-stop phone calls on how people can help
13.15 Go to church to pray for brother
14.00 Brother is found! His friend's parents told him to come over
22.30 Meeting with brother after he's ready to talk
00.00 Finally sees brother and hugs him
I'm tempted to opt for the cliche "All's well that ends well" BUT this is the reality of diplomatic life or any life that involves moving your loved ones, children especially, when it comes to saying goodbye to established relationships in that place. It was too painful for my brother to leave. He had made his statement that he didn't want to go. It was evident. But staying here was not a choice as he needs parental guidance and male influence to give him a male role model. He can only get that in the Philippines.
I didn't get to talk to him and I thought it would be better that way as I am still beating myself up from the thought that when he wanted to talk I immediately shut him out knowing full well that he would plead his case to stay here. I am sorry for that. But I didn't want to be cornered by a bunch of youths pleading on behalf of my brother. It was not the place nor the time. The time had come on its own after my brother decided to be a prodigal brother/son. And I'm glad that I'll be enjoying my mother and brother's company for a few more days and hopefully, when the dust has settled they will be able to leave peacefully and without much delay this weekend.
It was perfect timing and the best catharsis that lessened the pain of departure on all of us. It seems like a deux ex machina in a film where God's hands really made the plot move.
I am thankful that he has returned and I hope to be more of a sister to him and listen to his problems.
He had been sulking since he found out they were about to go home. You could hardly talk to him let alone bring up the subject.
The past weeks he had drowned himself in his friends, in activies for the Youth for Christ, including a conference here in Geneva and a service trip to Italy for the European Kids Village. In the hope of lessening the pain of the departure, we hoped that all these activities would somehow cushion the news of imminent departure. We were wrong.
We knew he was angry and upset about leaving but we didn't know to what extent he would take it.
To better capture the drama, I will tell the story with a timeline:
6.00 Wake up call
7.00 Departure of Mama for the airport for early check-in
7.40 Shower time for me
8.00 Reminder for my brother to take a shower
8.20 Talked to my brother to help me with luggage - he leaves the house
8.25 Comes back because he forgot something and leaves again
8.30 Mama has checked in her luggage
8.33 Mama calls brother and doesn't say where he is
9.10 Boarding time, brother no where to be found, reported to airport police that brother is missing
9.20 Tells airport ground staff that brother is missing and luggage will be offloaded
9.25 Supposed ETD (estimated time of departure) - no sign of brother
9.30 Baggage offloaded/Mama comes out of arrivals with baggage
10.00 Homebound meanwhile friends were called to inform and watch out for brother
12.30 Search for him at the gare; while other friends check out the airport; non-stop phone calls on how people can help
13.15 Go to church to pray for brother
14.00 Brother is found! His friend's parents told him to come over
22.30 Meeting with brother after he's ready to talk
00.00 Finally sees brother and hugs him
I'm tempted to opt for the cliche "All's well that ends well" BUT this is the reality of diplomatic life or any life that involves moving your loved ones, children especially, when it comes to saying goodbye to established relationships in that place. It was too painful for my brother to leave. He had made his statement that he didn't want to go. It was evident. But staying here was not a choice as he needs parental guidance and male influence to give him a male role model. He can only get that in the Philippines.
I didn't get to talk to him and I thought it would be better that way as I am still beating myself up from the thought that when he wanted to talk I immediately shut him out knowing full well that he would plead his case to stay here. I am sorry for that. But I didn't want to be cornered by a bunch of youths pleading on behalf of my brother. It was not the place nor the time. The time had come on its own after my brother decided to be a prodigal brother/son. And I'm glad that I'll be enjoying my mother and brother's company for a few more days and hopefully, when the dust has settled they will be able to leave peacefully and without much delay this weekend.
It was perfect timing and the best catharsis that lessened the pain of departure on all of us. It seems like a deux ex machina in a film where God's hands really made the plot move.
I am thankful that he has returned and I hope to be more of a sister to him and listen to his problems.
Monday, August 13, 2007
Au revoir, maman
The true transient city of Geneva has become a reality for me. Mama is leaving in a few hours for good en route to the Philippines. But it's not really Geneva that makes her leave, it's her diplomatic life that brings her from country to country and after six years, she is recalled to serve at capital in Manila.
Like every posting, she rushes to pack and leaves everything for the last minute. It came from her and I've never really heard it straight from her: "Maybe I do this to cope"; so she doesn't have to deal with the emotional part of goodbyes. She likes to be so busy that she forgets or is too tired to feel.
Goodbyes are hard for any culture, in any land, for any person. I think it's one of those universal human truths that just comes to haunt you. Sometimes it's welcomed but when it's your loved ones, you hope that day never comes.
For me, for the first time in my life, I will truly be on my own, in a foreign country. I will be left with Tita Minda but it's not really the same as a full house with Mama just there. No matter how old I get, I always miss my mom.
This time, I'm trying not to cry. She's left many times before. It was the hardest time in my life when she left us in the Philippines with our relatives. She didn't come home for almost two years. I thought I was going to have a nervous breakdown. I made it though and by God's grace, she came home just in time.
As she leaves this place, many happy memories come to fore. I still remember when I first came to Geneva and she picked us up in the white Toyota van of the labour office from the airport. I still remember that smell of April spring and the joy I felt to be reunited with my mom who was just plucked out of war-torn Iraq. I said it was truly a beautiful place. All these beautiful places are tied up with my mom's presence. I will now create new ones with other people. It's difficult to be separated. But as she said, we all have our own lives to live. No matter how much we try to be together, we are bound to lead separate lives. She with her diplomatic postings, my work at the UN, my brother's love of French culture, my other brothers' love of staying in one place. And mother's benchmark for good parenting is that we can fly on our own. If she has raised us to be independent and can live without her then she's done a good job. With a benchmark like that, we're bound to really live apart.
I hope I get to home this Christmas so I can be with all of them. I will be a real OFW now sending home monthly. I wonder how it will be.
As Mama leaves, I hope that it will not be so bad and not too sad. And that even if we're miles apart, we will still be together in spirit.
Like every posting, she rushes to pack and leaves everything for the last minute. It came from her and I've never really heard it straight from her: "Maybe I do this to cope"; so she doesn't have to deal with the emotional part of goodbyes. She likes to be so busy that she forgets or is too tired to feel.
Goodbyes are hard for any culture, in any land, for any person. I think it's one of those universal human truths that just comes to haunt you. Sometimes it's welcomed but when it's your loved ones, you hope that day never comes.
For me, for the first time in my life, I will truly be on my own, in a foreign country. I will be left with Tita Minda but it's not really the same as a full house with Mama just there. No matter how old I get, I always miss my mom.
This time, I'm trying not to cry. She's left many times before. It was the hardest time in my life when she left us in the Philippines with our relatives. She didn't come home for almost two years. I thought I was going to have a nervous breakdown. I made it though and by God's grace, she came home just in time.
As she leaves this place, many happy memories come to fore. I still remember when I first came to Geneva and she picked us up in the white Toyota van of the labour office from the airport. I still remember that smell of April spring and the joy I felt to be reunited with my mom who was just plucked out of war-torn Iraq. I said it was truly a beautiful place. All these beautiful places are tied up with my mom's presence. I will now create new ones with other people. It's difficult to be separated. But as she said, we all have our own lives to live. No matter how much we try to be together, we are bound to lead separate lives. She with her diplomatic postings, my work at the UN, my brother's love of French culture, my other brothers' love of staying in one place. And mother's benchmark for good parenting is that we can fly on our own. If she has raised us to be independent and can live without her then she's done a good job. With a benchmark like that, we're bound to really live apart.
I hope I get to home this Christmas so I can be with all of them. I will be a real OFW now sending home monthly. I wonder how it will be.
As Mama leaves, I hope that it will not be so bad and not too sad. And that even if we're miles apart, we will still be together in spirit.
Friday, August 03, 2007
bahay-bahayan
tita minda said "para lang tayong nagbabahay-bahayan". i didn't exactly know what she meant. when she explained it was like we were playing the kid's game when you pretend to put up a house and do chores and the things you do when you're in the house.
i never really thought about it. i guess it's also the first time that we've ever had such a small place - it's a studio with a separate kitchen and bathroom. the room is about 20 square metres. i'm not really sure. we put up an artificial wall thanks to the big cabinet that splits our room into hers and mine. of course, it's but all artificial. we share one light and the space is practically one. so, we can hear everything.
when we've lived in other places before like the "big house" in the philippines, yes, we lived in one room too squashed in to fit all of us but we also had the whole house to explore. we just slept in one room, that's all.
this time around, it's like a make believe house indeed with partitions made of cabinets and other things. but what is a house or any building without its occupants to make it a home. hopefully, we'll feel at home soon.
today, for the first time in a long time, i sat down in my room, fixed my things, read the newspaper and watched a movie. i think it's a good sign of a future that is more relaxed and cozy.
small spaces either brings people closer or drives them apart. i hope it will be the former.
i never really thought about it. i guess it's also the first time that we've ever had such a small place - it's a studio with a separate kitchen and bathroom. the room is about 20 square metres. i'm not really sure. we put up an artificial wall thanks to the big cabinet that splits our room into hers and mine. of course, it's but all artificial. we share one light and the space is practically one. so, we can hear everything.
when we've lived in other places before like the "big house" in the philippines, yes, we lived in one room too squashed in to fit all of us but we also had the whole house to explore. we just slept in one room, that's all.
this time around, it's like a make believe house indeed with partitions made of cabinets and other things. but what is a house or any building without its occupants to make it a home. hopefully, we'll feel at home soon.
today, for the first time in a long time, i sat down in my room, fixed my things, read the newspaper and watched a movie. i think it's a good sign of a future that is more relaxed and cozy.
small spaces either brings people closer or drives them apart. i hope it will be the former.
Tuesday, July 24, 2007
movin' on out
i didn't think i would feel like this ... not so soon.
the movers came this monday and started packing up mama's things. it was all so definite. i felt a sinking feeling at the pit of my stomach. i felt my heartbeat and i cringed at the thought - she's leaving at last.
it's been a roller coaster of dates of departure. she was due to leave in february. she was extended till june then she almost went at the end of june and now till the end of july but actually leaving second week of august.
it didn't sink in that my mother and all the family i have in geneva are actually leaving. the movers have packed up almost 80 per cent of the house. tita minda doesn't have a bed anymore. there are no furnitures in the living room.
---
it's now friday and the movers have finally loaded all the things in the container. bye bye white toyota celica. bye bye everything. the neighbours will also be missed. it's all coming so suddenly.
now, the bluewin tv guy is here at my apartment setting up the tv. everything is happening at the same time, i can't feel sad yet. maybe it's better this way.
i will write more as the move becomes final and post pictures too.
the movers came this monday and started packing up mama's things. it was all so definite. i felt a sinking feeling at the pit of my stomach. i felt my heartbeat and i cringed at the thought - she's leaving at last.
it's been a roller coaster of dates of departure. she was due to leave in february. she was extended till june then she almost went at the end of june and now till the end of july but actually leaving second week of august.
it didn't sink in that my mother and all the family i have in geneva are actually leaving. the movers have packed up almost 80 per cent of the house. tita minda doesn't have a bed anymore. there are no furnitures in the living room.
---
it's now friday and the movers have finally loaded all the things in the container. bye bye white toyota celica. bye bye everything. the neighbours will also be missed. it's all coming so suddenly.
now, the bluewin tv guy is here at my apartment setting up the tv. everything is happening at the same time, i can't feel sad yet. maybe it's better this way.
i will write more as the move becomes final and post pictures too.
Friday, June 08, 2007
stranger than fiction
the saying goes ... we watch drama (soap operas) to see real life and we watch the news to see drama.
i watched stranger than fiction with will ferrell and freedom writers with hilary swank the other day.
i thought to myself how life has become so unbelievable sometimes that even if you put it in a fiction novel, it would still seem surreal.
as i watch the news, i see the killings in iraq and i can't believe that the place where i used to live has been reduced to a statistical contest of who's got the most casualties: the iraqis or the americans? whose bomb went off to kill innocent civilians? and which sect of islam is waging jihad?
i see also the unfolding of madeleine's story - the poor kidnapped little girl and the media frenzy accorded it. i am glad that at least it's being covered but what hypocrisy as thousands of children disappear from their homes, from their driveways in third world or developing countries without as much as a milk carton photo? who gave them media mileage? is a white girl more important than a girl of color?
i can also just imagine the twisted plot of whoever kidnapped her to be so inconceivable and morally distorted or simply evil that it belongs in an agatha christie mystery with darker story lines.
with everything that could be seen in phantasmal stories, everyday life doesn't veer far away from it - with dark-clad men bringing evil to the land as the mighty burning bush has earned the ire of cold war russia, as colorfully clad men and women walk around as if an anime character, as the life that was unimagineable has become a drama worth writing a play script for.
life indeed has become stranger than fiction.
i watched stranger than fiction with will ferrell and freedom writers with hilary swank the other day.
i thought to myself how life has become so unbelievable sometimes that even if you put it in a fiction novel, it would still seem surreal.
as i watch the news, i see the killings in iraq and i can't believe that the place where i used to live has been reduced to a statistical contest of who's got the most casualties: the iraqis or the americans? whose bomb went off to kill innocent civilians? and which sect of islam is waging jihad?
i see also the unfolding of madeleine's story - the poor kidnapped little girl and the media frenzy accorded it. i am glad that at least it's being covered but what hypocrisy as thousands of children disappear from their homes, from their driveways in third world or developing countries without as much as a milk carton photo? who gave them media mileage? is a white girl more important than a girl of color?
i can also just imagine the twisted plot of whoever kidnapped her to be so inconceivable and morally distorted or simply evil that it belongs in an agatha christie mystery with darker story lines.
with everything that could be seen in phantasmal stories, everyday life doesn't veer far away from it - with dark-clad men bringing evil to the land as the mighty burning bush has earned the ire of cold war russia, as colorfully clad men and women walk around as if an anime character, as the life that was unimagineable has become a drama worth writing a play script for.
life indeed has become stranger than fiction.
Friday, May 04, 2007
Deadly Philippine politics
i was reading the inquirer online and two of the breaking news are failed assassination attempts on political candidates. why is it so important to be in political power for some people that they're willing to literally eliminate the competition?
i don't get it! where is democracy? maybe i'm deluded and have an idealistic picture of philippine politics. but i'm just hoping that it will stop. that political killings will stop. that extrajudicial killings would stop. that dissent be tolerated. and maybe people would learn to let go of their positions when their time is up.
some want political offices because they want the opportunities for corruption built-in to it. some just like power. others really want to make a difference but are strangled by a rigid and corrupt environment. it seems like a vicious cycle.
miriam defensor who claims to have won the 1992 elections was made to look crazy for doing so. the opposition is painted in bad light when it doesn't suit the powers that be. i saw her on tfc the other day and she was being interviewed about pork barrel and how political office becomes a lucrative campaign fund-raising mechanism or just simply a source of corruption if the politician is not honest enough. she explained the allowances of the representatives and the ways that they can rechannel money into their pockets, i.e. cutting operational costs by hiring less staff.
it's interesting how philippine politics has become a mere popularity contest with actors running in the race for senators. i have nothing against actors but at least they should have some experience. cesar montano was in a debate with another senatorial hopeful and he was asked by the moderator what experience he had that qualified him to run for office. he said and i'm paraphrasing "we actors when we play poor roles, go to the impoverished places and see the poverty there". i don't count that as qualifying experience to run for office. a lot of politicians have gone to the slums but nothing has changed. internalizing your role as an actor does not make for a good politician. would it mean that he's just "acting" as a senator?
in the senate, we need people of substance. people that can really make a difference and are not afraid to make a stand on what they believe in. what is this "plant pichay in the senate". i don't know how far you can get with a campaign like that except for a laugh in the face with the play on words for a vegetable to be planted in the senate. i hardly find it funny. whoever came up with that campaign will surely make pichay the laughingstock of the senate.
i feel such frustration but i remain hopeful. some day, there will be people that will set aside their own agendas for the betterment of the philippines. the partylist system was supposed to empower the marginalized sectors of society. it has become another avenue of political dynasties with politicians creating their own partylists to ensure that they remain in power. it might not be at the forefront but surely they are the puppet masters in the background.
i hope the political killings will stop. i hope that there will be a fraud-free election. i hope many things for the philippines. some day, i know it will come true. i believe there is hope and we can all work towards that ideal.
God bless the Philippines.
i don't get it! where is democracy? maybe i'm deluded and have an idealistic picture of philippine politics. but i'm just hoping that it will stop. that political killings will stop. that extrajudicial killings would stop. that dissent be tolerated. and maybe people would learn to let go of their positions when their time is up.
some want political offices because they want the opportunities for corruption built-in to it. some just like power. others really want to make a difference but are strangled by a rigid and corrupt environment. it seems like a vicious cycle.
miriam defensor who claims to have won the 1992 elections was made to look crazy for doing so. the opposition is painted in bad light when it doesn't suit the powers that be. i saw her on tfc the other day and she was being interviewed about pork barrel and how political office becomes a lucrative campaign fund-raising mechanism or just simply a source of corruption if the politician is not honest enough. she explained the allowances of the representatives and the ways that they can rechannel money into their pockets, i.e. cutting operational costs by hiring less staff.
it's interesting how philippine politics has become a mere popularity contest with actors running in the race for senators. i have nothing against actors but at least they should have some experience. cesar montano was in a debate with another senatorial hopeful and he was asked by the moderator what experience he had that qualified him to run for office. he said and i'm paraphrasing "we actors when we play poor roles, go to the impoverished places and see the poverty there". i don't count that as qualifying experience to run for office. a lot of politicians have gone to the slums but nothing has changed. internalizing your role as an actor does not make for a good politician. would it mean that he's just "acting" as a senator?
in the senate, we need people of substance. people that can really make a difference and are not afraid to make a stand on what they believe in. what is this "plant pichay in the senate". i don't know how far you can get with a campaign like that except for a laugh in the face with the play on words for a vegetable to be planted in the senate. i hardly find it funny. whoever came up with that campaign will surely make pichay the laughingstock of the senate.
i feel such frustration but i remain hopeful. some day, there will be people that will set aside their own agendas for the betterment of the philippines. the partylist system was supposed to empower the marginalized sectors of society. it has become another avenue of political dynasties with politicians creating their own partylists to ensure that they remain in power. it might not be at the forefront but surely they are the puppet masters in the background.
i hope the political killings will stop. i hope that there will be a fraud-free election. i hope many things for the philippines. some day, i know it will come true. i believe there is hope and we can all work towards that ideal.
God bless the Philippines.
Tuesday, April 03, 2007
my Brother, the LAWYER
Yehey!!! The wait has ended ... The results are final and absolute! My brother, Salvador "Buddy" Escalante has passed the BAR! He is No. 661 on the list! He is a lawyer!
Sunday, April 01, 2007
the countdown
everything boils down to time. how much time do you have for this? how much time do you have for that? time is an inevitable part of the equation at any stage of life - or death.
in a few weeks, my mom will finally leave switzerland. it will be the fulfilment of my dream to stand alone, be independent. be away from parental guidance. be myself. my mom has never been strict with me. she's not very hard on me at all. and with her leaving, i will miss every little fight we had, the endless conversations that are picked up in the morning in case sleep got in the way. i feel scared. but i know it's part of growing up.
i won't have my sounding board so close at hand. i won't have my kakulitan. no one will understand me the way she does. she's the only one that laughs at all my jokes. we have the same sense of humour. i feel sad. now, i have to contend with time differences. i hope that i will be able to make it. i get terribly homesick. i hope that i can manage the time that i will be away from my family. tita minda will be left with me but it won't be the same as having a full house. even with just christopher, my youngest brother, here it's enough to make the house as raucous. now, i have to contend with silence and a limited space where tita and i can see each other's every move. i have to get a new phone line. i have to apply for cable. i have to do everything. it wouldn't be such a burden if everything was done in english. but there's also a language barrier. i still haven't improved my french!
but time ... time winds down at the most crucial of moments. it seems to tick faster at the time you want more of it. and it seems to prolong every second when you want it to be quicker. time. the invaluable part of the equation.
***
MY BROTHER'S LAW BAR EXAM .... waiting ...
in a few weeks, my mom will finally leave switzerland. it will be the fulfilment of my dream to stand alone, be independent. be away from parental guidance. be myself. my mom has never been strict with me. she's not very hard on me at all. and with her leaving, i will miss every little fight we had, the endless conversations that are picked up in the morning in case sleep got in the way. i feel scared. but i know it's part of growing up.
i won't have my sounding board so close at hand. i won't have my kakulitan. no one will understand me the way she does. she's the only one that laughs at all my jokes. we have the same sense of humour. i feel sad. now, i have to contend with time differences. i hope that i will be able to make it. i get terribly homesick. i hope that i can manage the time that i will be away from my family. tita minda will be left with me but it won't be the same as having a full house. even with just christopher, my youngest brother, here it's enough to make the house as raucous. now, i have to contend with silence and a limited space where tita and i can see each other's every move. i have to get a new phone line. i have to apply for cable. i have to do everything. it wouldn't be such a burden if everything was done in english. but there's also a language barrier. i still haven't improved my french!
but time ... time winds down at the most crucial of moments. it seems to tick faster at the time you want more of it. and it seems to prolong every second when you want it to be quicker. time. the invaluable part of the equation.
***
MY BROTHER'S LAW BAR EXAM .... waiting ...
Wednesday, March 21, 2007
A certain degree of callousness
Moving around has many implications. One is the welcoming hellos but the more painful one is the many goodbyes.
Saying goodbye requires a certain degree of callousness of heart that enables a person to just be able to strike up a friendship without weeping at parting. It allows a person to go on to the next part of the journey invariably intact.
Goodbyes have the tendency to break the heart and wet the eyes as it wells ups with tears with the thought of imminent separation or departure.
A certain degree of callousness is required when you leave the people you love. Just enough to dull the pain or to keep one from suffering from breaking apart or being apart.
Just how much callous must one envelop his or her heart with so that contact will be cherished but removal won't be searing?
Just a certain degree, enough to let go when the time comes to say goodbye.
Saying goodbye requires a certain degree of callousness of heart that enables a person to just be able to strike up a friendship without weeping at parting. It allows a person to go on to the next part of the journey invariably intact.
Goodbyes have the tendency to break the heart and wet the eyes as it wells ups with tears with the thought of imminent separation or departure.
A certain degree of callousness is required when you leave the people you love. Just enough to dull the pain or to keep one from suffering from breaking apart or being apart.
Just how much callous must one envelop his or her heart with so that contact will be cherished but removal won't be searing?
Just a certain degree, enough to let go when the time comes to say goodbye.
Wednesday, January 24, 2007
Friday, December 29, 2006
Pain – a catalyst of change
How much pain can we endure before we say “enough is enough?” How much suffering must one withstand before saying “No”? How much pain must one go through before doing something about it?
It’s an epiphany of sorts for me to finally realize that with enough pain and suffering, we are forced to change. If we bask in the pain, we either turn numb or become insensitive. We lose sight of the lesson behind the pain. Pain is not necessarily a bad thing.
I believe that everything happens for a reason and even pain is sometimes a tool or a catalyst of change. It speeds up decisions that we were too afraid to make. It puts things in perspective. Just like being burned at touching a stove, we are less likely to do the same things which wrought pain upon us. It gives us parameters. It helps us make a better life.
Perhaps, if my boss didn’t make me feel like shit, I would have never found my new job. Perhaps, if I wasn’t hurt early on in life, I wouldn’t have been as strong as I am now. But that’s also because of God’s help. He is always a factor. But pain, if isolated in its purpose is analyzed, could’ve been the saving grace of many lives.
Thursday, October 26, 2006
Memories
New poem, inspired by my bubble keeper's recent musical composition. Thanks BK!
I SEE YOU EVERYWHERE
BUT YOU ARE GONE
HOW CAN I SAY I LOVE YOU
WHEN YOU'VE LEFT ME BEHIND
I'M LEFT WITH NOTHING BUT MEMORIES
MEMORIES
MEMORIES PAST, MEMORIES OF OLD
GOOD MEMORIES WITHOUT A FUTURE
HOW CAN I MOVE ON?
YOU LEFT SO SUDDENLY,
I ONLY HAVE THE WIND TO HEAR
HOW MUCH I LOVE YOU
WHY DID YOU GO,
WHAT DID I DO?
IT WAS TOO SOON,
YOU TOOK MY HEART WITH YOU.
I SEE YOU EVERYWHERE
BUT YOU ARE GONE
HOW CAN I SAY I LOVE YOU
WHEN YOU'VE LEFT ME BEHIND
I'M LEFT WITH NOTHING BUT MEMORIES
MEMORIES
MEMORIES PAST, MEMORIES OF OLD
GOOD MEMORIES WITHOUT A FUTURE
HOW CAN I MOVE ON?
YOU LEFT SO SUDDENLY,
I ONLY HAVE THE WIND TO HEAR
HOW MUCH I LOVE YOU
WHY DID YOU GO,
WHAT DID I DO?
IT WAS TOO SOON,
YOU TOOK MY HEART WITH YOU.
Monday, October 02, 2006
Saturday, September 23, 2006
Ex-Files
It was a late night out ... The usual Friday gimmick with friends. Before it an empowering and enlightening SFC teaching by Des at Tito Oca's house.
Aimee dropped me off near Manor so I can go to Café Bizarre. Saw Christa, Faryal, Aries, Jazu and Haider. We left the café after an hour or so. They had been there for quite a while. Christa needed to move her car before we all went to Le Phare.
It was a leisure walk among friends.
Then ...
I walked into Le Phare. There were no seats nearby. We saw our friend Salim and said our hellos. Then we walked on ... stop ... she was there. My dreaded ex. The ex I had been avoiding and hoping not to meet. But Geneva is small. But I didn't know she'd be back from England doing her masters. But she was. Stop. "Hi. How are you?" she said. I said, "I'm ok." Cut. I grabbed some seats and grabbed Christa, "My ex is there." "Where?" she said, "give me some indication, 12 o'clock, 6 o'clock". "There," I said, "in the corner, 12 o'clock". I don't know the exact words that followed but as my friends knew, they started comforting me. Christa hugged me and kept close all night making sure to keep me company. Same with Jazu, Aries and Faryal.
I felt so weak in the knees. I felt like vomiting. I felt sick. I didn't know she still had that effect on me. I was thrown back in a time warp ... dry mouth ... uncertainty ... fear.
We kept a civil hi, didn't talk to each other except to say goodbye. She wished me a good night. I just smiled.
When I got home, I cried my eyes out, slept at 5 a.m. and turned the events round and round ... why didn't I wish her Happy Rosh Hoshana. Afterall, it was their new year. But I was stymied.
I prayed and I cried. I had just asked Des how to let go. Then came this. An unexpected meeting with my ex.
Good thing I was surrounded by friends and I was at my top form. I looked pretty Jazu said. At least, I had something to show. But I didn't need to care. It was a long time ago. A year and a half to be exact.
I have always been on good terms wit my exes. I don't know why we ended like this.
Aimee dropped me off near Manor so I can go to Café Bizarre. Saw Christa, Faryal, Aries, Jazu and Haider. We left the café after an hour or so. They had been there for quite a while. Christa needed to move her car before we all went to Le Phare.
It was a leisure walk among friends.
Then ...
I walked into Le Phare. There were no seats nearby. We saw our friend Salim and said our hellos. Then we walked on ... stop ... she was there. My dreaded ex. The ex I had been avoiding and hoping not to meet. But Geneva is small. But I didn't know she'd be back from England doing her masters. But she was. Stop. "Hi. How are you?" she said. I said, "I'm ok." Cut. I grabbed some seats and grabbed Christa, "My ex is there." "Where?" she said, "give me some indication, 12 o'clock, 6 o'clock". "There," I said, "in the corner, 12 o'clock". I don't know the exact words that followed but as my friends knew, they started comforting me. Christa hugged me and kept close all night making sure to keep me company. Same with Jazu, Aries and Faryal.
I felt so weak in the knees. I felt like vomiting. I felt sick. I didn't know she still had that effect on me. I was thrown back in a time warp ... dry mouth ... uncertainty ... fear.
We kept a civil hi, didn't talk to each other except to say goodbye. She wished me a good night. I just smiled.
When I got home, I cried my eyes out, slept at 5 a.m. and turned the events round and round ... why didn't I wish her Happy Rosh Hoshana. Afterall, it was their new year. But I was stymied.
I prayed and I cried. I had just asked Des how to let go. Then came this. An unexpected meeting with my ex.
Good thing I was surrounded by friends and I was at my top form. I looked pretty Jazu said. At least, I had something to show. But I didn't need to care. It was a long time ago. A year and a half to be exact.
I have always been on good terms wit my exes. I don't know why we ended like this.
Saturday, September 09, 2006
Certainly unexpected
I had the most wonderful birthday anyone could ever wish for. I turned 26 today (Sept. 8) and I spent my eve with the family and friends I have here in Geneva. I thought they would never be able to pull it off. After all, I was always on top of things. I had bionic ears and hardly anything could ever pass me without being noticed. But they were so good. Under the leadership of my mom, Aries and Jazu, they pulled off what I thought was unimaginable. From the KIS group, Roland, Ate Mercy, Kuya Ramil, and Diane were there on that eve of Sept. 8. Faryal and new friend, Christa, was also part of the surprise. Nikki, my oldest friend here, was also part of the scheme. Tito Roque, Ate Virgie, Ate Julie, Tita Minda, pitched in. Haritz made their appearance. Christopher went home on time.
My heart could have exploded from the adrenalin the surprise produced. It was certainly unexpected. I am so blessed to have good friends.
On my birthday proper, Faryal, Melissa, Christa and Jamie made it even more special. Taking me out on the town, in our dressed-to-kill wear, we danced ourselves out at Pickwicks where Melissa threw out her knee. Faryal was ever cool and Christa ever so friendly.
It was a very blessed 26th birthday. I went to Mass twice. I am crying from sheer happiness. I never expected it all. Thank you God for all the blessings and friends and family that think of me so dear. I am really happy. I still can't sleep from all these happiness.
Thank you all.
Tuesday, August 29, 2006
Au revoir mon frère
At exactly 9.25 a.m. my brother will board a KLM flight bound for Manila. The litany of goodbyes will begin shortly before it. Gallons of tears would have fallen and the familiar goodbye will be said stabbing our hearts like it did when at the age of one he was also sent home to the Philippines. It is the same situation now. It is for his future that he has been sent home. It is because he will have a better life there. And we will be watching him in pain as he leaves. We hope he will study well and find his dream – whatever it may be. We hope in the company of his elder brothers, he will become a better gentleman.
Our family has been apart more times than the common parting. It is not just weeks of vacation but of years of separation that plague our lives. It is for our own good. It is Gorby’s turn to go home for his future. He makes the trip alone, literally and figuratively, but knowing him, he would have made many friends on this flight home. He is called “congressman” here.
He is just that – a congenial young man, full of ideas with a bright future ahead. Exceptional and unique in his own right.
As the tears flow from its cask, a new leaf will be turned.
I will find my brother - a man - on our next meeting.
I will miss him. We will all miss him.
Au revoir mon frère. May God always be with you as you start a new chapter in your life. I love you. See you soon.
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