Monday, January 16, 2006

DAYBREAK


When I was young, my father used to wake us up very early, with the admonition that if we don't, God, who showers His blessings at daybreak will miss us and we will end up with nothing. With much grumbling, my siblings and I will troop downstairs, each trying to get first into the bathroom, then on to the breakfast table, where mounds of pancakes and caro syrup await. As children, we never got to understand what the fuss was all about, since there was nothing we children could do so early in the morning. We could play earlier, of course, and during school days, we could go to school without being late. Much as we resented being woken up as soon as the roosters start to crow, my father did it so religiously, so that in time, we all learned to wake up at dawn.

When I think about that part of my life, I thank Papa for that training. Now, no matter how tired I am, my body seems to have a built-in alarm clock that wakes me up sometime between 4 and 5 am. The first thing I do when I wake up is to look out into the world outside that is just starting to stir from a night of respite from the many demands of day to day life. I wonder at the dew that nestles on a leaf, sparkling like a diamond, the cool breeze that caress my cheeks and arms as it blows gently through the window, but most of all, I love to hear the voice of the pandesal man calling out “hot pandesal” with a familiar cadence that warms my heart and reminds me of my carefree childhood.

The magic of daybreak has never failed to touch my heart. For it fills me with amazement that people are able to recharge through the night and face another day that will once again put to the test the resiliency of the human spirit. I remember the previous day that has passed, when man was relentlessly buffeted and smashed by the many challenges and obstacles that litter his way. But when night comes, he relaxes and peacefully sleeps, gathering his strength and building up courage, waking up with a smile on his face, ready and eager in his next attempt to conquer the world. Look at the pan de sal man. He wakes up at dawn; go to the bakery to get a basket of pan de sal to sell at a commission of a few centavos per piece. He does this daily, rain or shine, he braves the snarling dogs, sometimes fall into pot holes he couldn’t see in the dark, but does he give up? NO! He just goes on and on everyday, still able to smile at his suki (regular customers), joke with them, and with his measly earnings, proudly supports his family. You’d think life was too hard, and he should be ready to throw in the towel and call it quits. But no! He wakes up each morning with a new spring on his steps, a grin on his face, and call out “Hot Pan de Sal” in his funny voice. And in his heart, the hope that today, he will earn more than he did yesterday. Fantastic isn’t it?

But something even more wonderful is this. When I consider all the wonders of a brand new day, I can’t help but compare it to my spiritual journey. Or to the spiritual journey of other people, even. Everyday we are put to the test regarding our walk with God. Temptations on one side, hardships on the other. The enemy counts on us to buckle under the pressure of his never ending schemes. Sometimes, we are able to hold up, but sometimes, we get so bloodied, so beaten, that when the day ends, we dejectedly crawl into the darkness, ready to give up. This is the night in our journey. We think the darkness is there to hide our ignominious defeat, that it is there so we can lick our wounds in private. But my friend, have you ever considered that this darkness, this night time in our spiritual journey, is the time when God is right there beside you, coming to your aid, bathing your wounds, and giving you that much needed respite from the knocks that the enemy unceasingly aims at you? He speaks to you, encouraging you to have another go, promising victory at the end of the road. If only you would not give up now.

I say this because it has happened to me. I thought I was staying forever in the darkness of my misery. I have tried so hard, always trying for excellence in walking the faith. I was walking with such confidence, secure in the knowledge that I was doing the right thing. My mistake was in lowering my guard. Everything was going so well. I was sailing on smooth waters but I never realized that this was the calm before the storm. When it finally hit, I was taken unawares. And I just gave up. The darkness swallowed me up, and it was so comfortable I never wanted to get out. But this was the darkness where God has come to comfort me. He soothed the hurt, gently reminding me that I cannot go it alone. That I was to let Him give me rest, and to let Him walk with me. And I asked Him: “God, you are so wise, why have you allowed me to reach this point of such darkness before you tell me all this?” And clearly, He replied, “Because my child, you were so confident in your ability you didn’t want to listen. But in the darkness, you were lost and afraid, you needed me. This is my time to tell you where you have gone wrong, what you needed to complete this journey - my guidance, my strength, and my comfort.”

And when He finally led me out of the darkness, I was ready to face anything again. Knowing that I have rested, that I have been renewed, secured in the knowledge that this time, I do not walk alone. The night is past, and a new day has come again.

THROUGH THE EYES OF A CHILD




The place looked so tired and drab. Everything was covered in fine dust. Even the stray dogs look weary. However did I survive being in this place for the last few months? When it isn’t this dry and dusty, it’s flooded and muddy. I couldn’t say anything nice about the place, except for the people. The neighborhood maybe poor, but the people are good-natured, helpful and hospitable. From my adult perspective, there wasn’t that much to recommend the place if you were thinking of settling in, long-term. I need a change, and I need it fast. It makes me feel so dejected just looking at my surroundings. This is one of those days that I get so inundated by so many negative thoughts that I thought it’s time once again to look at things through the eyes of a child.

I saw this group of scruffy kids playing outside, so I sauntered to where they were happily playing with some cheap, plastic toys on the ground. They look excited and it appears that they are playing some kind of a make=believe game.

“Hey, Maisie,” I called out to one of the girls. “What’s up?”

“We are playing house, Ate. I get to be the mommy.” She happily piped up.

“Why does that make you happy?” I asked. ”It’s hard being a mommy.”

“Ate????” she put her hands on her hips, her rounded eyes staring at me as if to say I was being a dimwit. “Being a mommy means I get to make everyone do my bidding. It’s like being a queen. I tell the others to do something and they jump to obey”

“Oh, I see.” This sounds interesting. Maybe I am a dimwit. Why can’t I make my daughter jump and obey me? The normal response I get from her is “Right, mom, just give me ten minutes and I’ll get to it.”

Maybe if I quiz this little one, I can get some hot tips to make my life easier. “Honey, however do you manage to get them to obey you instantly?”

“Well, Ate, if they don’t, I beat them with my stick”, she grinned at me.

Ooppss! No help there, I grinned back at the little imp and wagged a finger at her. “Be careful, or your children will call Bantay Bata 163. And who do you get to be, Melai?” I asked one of the younger kids.

“I am Bunso.” she nodded wisely. “That means I get to use the bed.”

“Oh…, and where’s the bed?” I asked.

She started laughing so hard. “Ate, you are stepping on it.”

Indeed I was. The “bed” is a piece of brown cardboard that has the logo of a popular brand of soap or something. “But that’s such a small bed,” I said.

“That’s because I’m small, Ate, so I need only a small bed.” Good point. I must remember that realistic answer when I am wanting more than what I need. Children always hit the bull’s eye.

“Don’t you have a daddy?” I asked. “You are all girls, so there’s no one to play daddy.”
“Of course we have a daddy, he is an OCW.” one of the other kids bragged. “He is supposed to be in Dubai.”

“Great. So, are you going to build a larger house when he comes home? Your house is too small, and look-,” I pointed at the small wooden stool that they use for a table, “your table is too low. You need a higher table so you can use chairs. It’s awful to be sitting on hard ground all the time.”

Everyone giggled at that. “Oh, come on. Stop laughing. What if it rains? The muddy water will wet your bottoms!” I pretended to look horrified. ”Now, that will be really bad. And the bed will probably float all the way down to the river.” I exaggerated.

‘Then we will just stop playing house and play tag in the rain, Ate.” Maisie came up with an answer, a dimple appearing on her brown, rounded cheeks.

“Good idea.” I laughed. “Well, okay, I won’t disturb you anymore. Get on with your game now, and no quarrelling, mind.” I took a quick shot of the playing kids with my digicam, and then left them in peace to enjoy that little world they have created.

I sat nearby to watch them, my despondency eased somewhat by these little children who have such a clear cut view of life. Their simulation of real life has good entertainment value and the jabs of wisdom here and there are truly a great revelation. Children are so pure and beautiful. They take everything at face value, are never afraid to say what they think and very philosophical about facing difficulties. I think this is what makes it easy for them to enjoy life in spite of the present hardships.

I do wish I were more child-like in my approach to life. A lot of times, I get bogged down by day-to-day problems, losing myself in the intricacies of solving them that I miss some really great things that I should have enjoyed, if only I hadn’t taken the long way around. There are problems that are truly very simple if only I can look at them logically and calmly. Sometimes, solutions stare at me in the face but I don’t take notice because I have given the problem too much power over me and has therefore convinced myself that only super-complicated solutions will do it. And there are some things in my life that are impossible to change so I might as well borrow a page from Maisie’s book and accept them rationally.

Looking through the eyes of a child helps. I must remember that I mustn’t yearn for a double bed because I’m single, and I should be happy because if I can’t play house, I can always play tag. 




Vocabulary:

Ate – a respectful term for older sister

Bantay Bata 163 – hotline for the center that monitors child abuse

Bunso - youngest child

OCW - Overseas Contract Worker

PAPILLON




It was a balmy night, dark and quiet.. My bare feet flew through the grassy field as I chased after that bright splash of color just ahead of me.. I had this pressing feeling of urgency not to lose that magical being that flits here and there as if looking for something .I lengthened my strides, keeping my eyes glued to it’s graceful movement, oblivious to anything but my desire to catch up with it. Suddenly, I saw it make a slow, graceful circle and alighted on something. I smiled delightedly, and with great anticipation, moved slowly towards the glowing patch of colors.

It was a butterfly! Its wings a wonderful symphony of pink, blue, yellow and green. with sprinklings of silver glitters all over them like fairy dust. I stretched out my hand to gently touch it. But just then, a strong gust of wind blew through the meadow, flattening my long white dress against my body and spilling my hair from its loose knot to tangle across my face. I swept the hair away from my eyes and peered at my butterfly again. It was gone! In its place stood a tall man, unmoving in his stance, his face hidden in the darkness. My heart almost stopped. I stared unblinkingly at his face, like someone in a trance. A slight movement broke the spell, and when I focused, I saw him holding his hand out to me, palm upwards. I slowly lift my trembling hand to him, and when he gripped my fingers protectively, I had a very strong feeling of homecoming. Strange! I tried to shake the feeling, and as I moved jerkily, I felt a sharp pain shoot through my head. I whirled around to check what caused it. A BEDSIDE TABLE????? I was in my bed, the sheets tangled around my legs and one of my pillows was on the floor.

PROUD TO BE PINAY!




If anything good came out of my enforced stay at my mom’s house in Sta. Cruz, it was the chance I had to renew old acquaintances and make new ones. It has given me a chance to see my friends again and look at what they have become over the years.

The first time I came here, I was a young woman. I made friends with the other young women here, attended weddings, went on excursions to the neighboring towns of Pagsanjan, Paete, and simply went gaga over the beautiful slippers and shoes in Liliw. We went swimming at Pagsanjan Lodge in December and made fun of the foreigners who shivered and had goose pimples all over their pale bodies because the water was extremely cold. We watched the procession in town during the holy week, attended the misa de gallo for nine days during the Christmas season and stuffed ourselves with bibingka and puto-bumbong after the mass. I am not a Roman Catholic, but a lot of my friends were, so it wasn’t the mass I came for, but the camaraderie and the fun we had together in walking to church, having breakfast on the sidewalk and shivering as the cold wind blew through the dark streets. Those were fun days.

Today, I have made new friends here, poor people with hearts of gold. You help them once, twice, and they fall all over themselves to do things for you. Some take advantage, but most are really good people.

But the thing that has really made a great impression in me is seeing my old friends again, watching them survive the many hardships typical to a lot of poor families in my country. I am amazed at the strength, resourcefulness and resiliency of the Filipino woman. And once again, I reiterate how much I admire the uniqueness of the Filipina.

Imagine bringing up a family on the meager amount a husband brings home. In this area where employment opportunity is almost nil, you take any job you can and you will be lucky to earn 200 to 300 pesos a day. Almost every time, no work means no pay. So, if you are lucky to work eight hours, seven days a week, you will earn an average of 9,000 a month. Not much considering the high price of consumer goods. How do they manage, these amazing friends of mine?

One of my friends has four children. They all go to school. Grade school and high school do not cost anything in terms of tuition if you go to a public school. So, that’s not a problem. But they have to take tricycle rides at a student rate of 6 pesos each, one way. With four children, they spend 48 pesos a day for fare. What about food? They eat rice and dried fish, or sardines for breakfast. That will last them until lunch, and then they will have to do with a light snack until they can go home around 5pm and eat something substantial. They are given 20 pesos each for that. Wow, so that’s another 80 pesos. That is already2,560 pesos for 20 school days. Father has to spend a few more pesos for fare and lunch when he goes to work. Add the cost of food for the family, utility bills for water, electricity and cooking fuel, emergency expenses when someone gets sick, or when a child has a school project, tithes and offering for church, and all the other expenses I have not thought about. Goodness, I really hate math. I can be a math wiz, but there’s no way I can make 9,000 pesos a month cover all those overhead expenses necessary for raising a family. Debit and credit will never tally. I just found out I hate accounting, too (sigh).

But, hey, look at my friend. She smiles all the time. She jokes around. She’s absolutely beautiful in the midst of all these hardships. I asked her if she never gets frustrated juggling her budget to make ends meet. And yes, I’m not a math wiz, but I’m not a moron either and I can do simple arithmetic. 9,000 a month??? Four children? I just have one college kid and a 78 year old mother, and I get 20,000 every 14 days. But I have to really be very careful with my budget or else I will overshoot it all the time. So what gives?????

I listened raptly to this amazing woman as she enumerated how she manages her household. First, she doesn’t use water from NAWASA. She has a water pump in her backyard. It’s this model that has a long pipe for a handle that you move up and down to get the water gushing up. Oh well, I don’t have much technical or mechanical vocabulary, but I’m hoping you get the idea. Aside from having an abundant supply of water, it’s free, so no water bill. And it keeps her arms strong and trim. Two birds in one shot. I’m impressed.

Second, she takes on any job to help her husband when the children are in school. Cooking for a neighbor, washing clothes, direct selling, you name it. There was even one time when she got paid to partner a cousin at a ballroom dancing competition. Whoa, supplementary income and a chance to socialize. Way to go, girl!

Third, she has taught her children to be careful with their electric consumption. Ironing all the clothes once a week, television for two hours after homework, wash hair at night and let dry naturally so no need to blow dry, always turn off the lights when no one is in the room, etc. She has a lot of cost-cutting tips.

Fourth, she has learned to be a creative cook. Since meat is expensive, vegetables and fish are usually the mainstay in their menu. Discovering how to cook them in an unusual and tasty way gives her a sense of accomplishment.

And then, she went on to say that she always tries to maintain a happy disposition. Life is really hard, and you only make it even worst by grousing. She has noticed that her children get affected by her moods, so as much as possible, she tries to maintain a cheerful façade in front of them. When she is in bed with her husband, that’s the time she talks about her day and listens to his. This, she says, makes their relationship, not exactly perfect, but more connected.

Last and most important of all, she and her husband have placed the Lord Jesus in the center of their marriage and family. With God being served in their household, they can overcome anything.

I consider my friend a really beautiful woman. Maybe you wouldn’t think so if you see her. If you are thinking beautiful as in Helen of Troy, the face that could launch a thousand ships, well, my friend’s face can’t even launch a paper boat. But as my mother likes to say, beauty is as beauty does. So, if you are a person with a deep perception of what is essential, then you would see the beauty I saw in her. The quiet, inner strength, the indisputable confidence that she is going about her daily business on the right track, the joy of fulfillment shining on her face… well, this is the kind of beauty that no amount of cosmetics can ever hope to achieve. She knows who she is and what she is. And she is focused on where she is going. My friend is the very epitome of womanhood. She lives up to God’s calling to be a helper to her man in the truest sense and I honor her with all respect and admiration.

Don’t you think she is a woman any husband will be proud of? Why indeed should a woman spend her days wearing the badge of defeat? There is no reason for her to feel and look defeated. A woman is only what she thinks she is. If she feels good about herself, she feels good about life. But if she thinks that there is nothing more that she can do to get over her circumstances, then she stays in the pits forever. It’s a reality that life today is hard. But one should look at herself honestly, evaluate what is lacking, think about what can be done and go for it. It’s a hard life we are facing, but giving up is not an option.

In the Philippines, a woman plays a major role in the household. The children look up to her for guidance, the husband for support. She is not only a nurturer but also a manager, an accountant, a nurse, a referee, a teacher, a cook, and every other role on demand. She is the pivotal character in the family unit and it is essential that she plays her role with utmost confidence. It is a hard, demanding job, being a mother and wife. It is a job that requires a good sense of balance, creativity, resourcefulness, and versatility. I’m sure the modern husband appreciates this lot. And yet, once upon a time, this was not so. A lot of people just took it for granted that when a woman marries, she stays at home and tends to the family and nothing more. She gets seen and not heard, decision-making is a male prerogative and she must vow to her husband’s superior intellect. In an eastern world such as mine where women have been stereotyped for centuries, I am awed at the way their spirits has withstood the battering and the incessant indoctrination that women are second-class citizens.

But life goes on, and changes are bound to happen, Circumstances and needs become different. Perspectives shift. Filipina wives have evolved from being just regular housewives to income-earning ones. Not everyone is employed by firms on a regular basis. A lot are self-employed so as not to neglect the care of their children. We hear of direct selling which can be done at one’s own schedule, networking, sari-sari store right in your own home, repacking, soap and candle-making and a lot of other income-generating projects that can be learned at centers courtesy of non-profit organizations. Along with training are offers of capital loan at very low interest with marketing assistance thrown in. Instead of despairing about the poverty, a lot of women in dire straits, economy-wise, have grasped this opportunity with enthusiasm. And they are succeeding!

Throughout the years, women, single and married both, have spread their wings and went on to accomplish great things. We have seen women rising and making their marks in their chosen fields. They have emerged like butterflies from chrysalides, and in the Philippines, the true “Pinay” has arrived. There are still instances in a male dominated field where she still gets insulted, bypassed, harassed. But seeing her fighting back and resisting getting dragged down by her circumstances is an inspiration. Seeing her succeed encourages other women to tap their own potentials. But an even greater achievement is to see her succeed in the workplace and bring the same kind of success in her own home as a wife and mother. She is playing a dual role, and has triumphed in both of them. The once timid Pinay has recognized and accepted her true role. This is the reason why I say that the new Filipina is unique in her recognition of her own strength and potentials. She doesn’t see it as a means to score against man or to declare herself superior. She has no need to compete in the battle of the sexes because she has come into her own, and having done so, she is fully comfortable and secure in being a woman and rejoice in the fact that she is different from a man. And because she is different from a man, she sees things differently, thinks differently and reacts differently. In other words, she complements man and this is exactly what makes her a great partner.

So, for the Pinoy who calls his wife his better half, truly, you have paid her a very great compliment. And for those other men who have accepted women as persons in their own rights who can achieve great things alongside them, you are indeed a rare breed. A new era has begun, where man and woman can forge a partnership based on each one’s Godly calling. No competition, no bids for superiority, but mutual respect and acceptance of each one’s capabilities. To see it happening in my country makes me feel good.

In spite of the mavericks who have given the Filipina a bad name, Pinay is still a unique, exceptional woman. She has indeed come a long way. And so, here I stand unwavering to say: “PROUD TO BE PINAY!”

MEMORIES



The rainy season has started with a big bang, taking along with it a couple of tropical storm. For a week now, the rain has continuously poured down on this god-forsaken place, keeping me inside the house alternately twiddling my thumbs or pounding on my computer keyboard.

Today is much the same. The only difference is I can see little boys from my window who are gleefully playing tag amidst the downpour. I smiled at the way they were totally absorbed with their game that they do not seem to feel the cold bite of the wind on their brown, naked bodies glistening with rainwater. I watched their little feet carelessly stomping on the rivulets of muddy water racing down the incline to lower grounds. Above the din of their screams and laughter, I couldn’t help remembering the way my brother and I used to do the same when we were kids. But that was before the advent of leptospirosis.

Ahh, what a day for memories. With nothing much to do and nowhere to go, what better way to spend the day than to look at the threads of my memories, good or bad, happy or sad, yet interweaving to create the tapestry of my life? I journeyed back to the carefree days of my youth, seeing my brother and myself enthusiastically living each day as if there was no tomorrow. Like these little boys, we’d manage to escape from my mom’s eagle eyes to play in the rain, staying out until our skin looks like raisins, all wrinkled from the cold. I hear our childish laughter echoing through the corridors of my mind, as if it was only yesterday. I see the coronet of bright-colored flowers sitting cockily on top of my head, and with my twin, black braids lying on my shoulders, I felt like an Indian princess. A wet princess. What fun we had. It was worth the spanking we got when my mom finally caught up with us.

I see us in high school, my brother the typical rebel, and myself, the model student. I kept covering up for his multitudes of sin. From two innocent children, we became conspirators. My parents never heard about how my brother threw an eraser at his nun instructor because she threw a piece of chalk at him. They never heard about how he would miss classes to go to the movies with his girlfriend. With my father a very strict disciplinarian, I don’t know how he would have dealt with the numerous offenses my brother has thought up to challenge the school authorities. It was up to me to talk and deal with the principal, to make up excuses that my parents were out of town or that my mother was sick and has delegated me to discuss my brother’s problems with the Dean of Discipline. With the way I have built up a reputation for being a hard-working and disciplined student, my integrity was never questioned, so I managed to get my brother out of the scrapes he got himself into. Thankfully, he outgrew this phase and turned into a responsible adult.

Adulthood has given both of us a different path to travel. We both went our own way to fashion a way of life that we thought would make us happy. He went to live in the west to be with his wife who is a westerner.
I stayed here in the east to live with my Australian husband. I lived a life that was riddled with both beautiful and tragic episodes, created memories, maintained old values, built new ones, met new people, saw new worlds. Through it all I can look back and not regret a thing, because for every decision I have made in the past, they were made because I thought and believed them to be right at that time. And the memories that the past has bequeathed to me? They will be mine to cherish, mine to take out from my treasure chest whenever I feel like traveling to the past. They will make me smile, shed a tear or two, but I will never regret having each one of them, for they have made me what I am today.

My brother, he too, must have created memories of his own. They will be his to look at on a rainy day such as this.

LITTLE MOUTH, BE CAREFUL WHAT YOU SAY




“Let no corrupt word proceed out of your mouth, but what is good for necessary edification, that it may impart grace to the hearers.” Ephesians 4:29

One careless word, that’s all it takes to damage a relationship. I remember when I was young, my mom would warn me that I wasn’t to get into a fight if people tease. She said “stick and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me”. An old and tired saying, and not entirely true. Words are a wieldy weapon of destruction, as have been proven time and again. Physical wounds heal faster, and scars can be removed through the wonders of modern technology.

I believe anger to be such a useless emotion. It doesn’t really benefit anybody. But the way it controls people, blinding them to reason and goading them to do things they wouldn’t do in normal circumstances, is confounding. Most people express anger with the use of words that are designed to hurt. They do this at the height of their passion, and oftentimes, they regret what has been said but it’s too late. The damage is done, and the only thing left to do is to contain the damage to minimal.

Christianity is a way of life. It deals about relationships- relationship between man and God, relationship between man and man. And the Bible has many teachings and exhortations to make this as hassle-free as possible if only we will learn to heed it. But I’ve seen some relationships break down because of thoughtless and hurting words. Wounds to the emotions are slower to heal. They go deeper, and once in the system, it circulates its poison to cause maximum damage. Perhaps if one would only try to think before he speaks, to explain and to reason, not in anger but in a genuine desire to be understood, then strains on relationships will be avoided.

A friend of mine sent this text message to me and I think that it says my own sentiment so well:

“WORDS and HEARTS should be handled with care; for WORDS when spoken and HEARTS when broken are the hardest things to repair.”

LIPSTICK


Went shopping with my brother who is visiting from Canada. Shopping, what a waste of time. You spend so many hours walking in and out of stores while your wallet slowly empties itself out. I spotted a chair and sat down to rest my weary feet. I should have brought a book, but I didn't think of it, so I people-watched instead while the rest of my companions continued to shop.
After a while, I noticed this guy who was stealing glances at me, and that has got me worried. I stared at him and he looked away. I pretended to look elsewhere but continued to watch him from my peripheral vision. He was staring at me again. I looked him straight in the eyes and he blushed. Wow! Amazing! Probably thinking I have caught him anyway, he started sauntering in my direction. My heart started palpitating. He could be a holdupper, or a call boy, or any kind of undesirable that frequents the mall! Hmmm... do holduppers or call boys still blush? I put my right hand inside my shorts' pocket where I have my Swiss knife. You know, just in case I might need it. But before I could draw it out, he was right there in front of me. I brazened it out and tried to freeze him with a cold stare.
"Hey, you've been staring at me on and off for the last few minutes. You are pissing me off."
"I'm sorry", he replied in a high, thin voice. "I didn't mean to offend you, but I think you are wearing the loveliest shade of lipstick and I wanted to ask where you got it. I can't seem to find just that right shade of pink."
Oh, my gosh, it was all I could do not to break down laughing. He's gay!
Well, I didn't need a book after all. This guy, (or should I say gay) and I spent about half an hour of fun exchanging make-over tips , and yes, I gave him information on where to get the best selections of lipstick.
As we said goodbye, I can't help thinking that we shouldn't really judge a book by its cover.

A MAN OR A MOUSE?


Life is just so complicated. You want one thing but you get another. You plan for a certain project and something throws a spanner in the works. There's just nothing you can do except to be like a soldier- be prepared for all contingency. Plan ahead. Prepare a plan B or even a plan C. There’s no guaranty that your plans will come to fruition, but the main thing is you have given it your best shot. And after all is said and done, your respect for yourself will stand you in good steed. For the failure or the success of a certain enterprise is not the end. Life is an ongoing process until the time you have to face your Maker. And then, it’s an entirely different ball game altogether.

Meanwhile, this world is full of challenges. The manner by which you face them will determine the kind of person you are. A man or a mouse? Hmmm….

LIFE IS A BEACH, PART 2




My father had always been a bigger than life character for me. He was a strong man, responsible, a loving father, very protective of his family. He was also an adventurer, and would fearlessly pack up his family and business to God knows where for better opportunities.

I was a very young child when he thought that there was too much competition in Manila for his business, so he took us to Mindanao, to a tiny city in Lanao del Norte. Business will be good there, he said. And the wide spaces, fresh air and the slower pace of life will be good for his 5 children.

I was born in a city where all you can see are concrete roads and concrete buildings. We lived in an apartment above my father’s shop, and every morning, I will be hanging around there to watch people hurrying to their jobs. We lived in the business district, and the pavement in front of our shop was never empty of people, except at around 12:00 midnight when all business establishments have closed down for the night. I have gotten used to the noise of traffic and people coming and going, and became really people-oriented that I was never backward in welcoming my father’s clients to the shop.

Soon we left for Mindanao, which Papa and his buddies called the land of plenty. Being uprooted from my natural habitat (the concrete jungle), elicited a mixture of emotions, but the predominant one was a feeling of excitement, a sense of adventure. We landed in Mindanao, in a city next to our original destination, because the plane was diverted there because of some problems that I didn’t understand then. :) When we finally landed, my eyes almost popped out of their sockets. We were on a rented car and I can see mountains, and trees, and all kinds of greeneries along the roadside. The airport was located in an elevated stretch of land just outside the city, and the driver was driving slowly down the winding road so that we can see the sights. It was the first time I ever saw a coconut tree, and I was amazed at how tall they were. Everything was so green and I have never seen the sky so bright and blue.

What boggled my young mind the most was my first sight of the sea. We were half-way to the next city when on the next turn, the vista of a sparkling blue sea met my stunned eyes. Papa smiled in understanding and asked the driver to stop so that we children could stretch out our legs and have our first experience of the sea. We ran down to the beach to the sound of my mother’s admonitions to go slow and watch out for the sharp rocks.

If I close my eyes now, I can still picture in my mind that wonderful day. It was late afternoon. The sea was so blue, the sun was shining brightly and as rays of light shone on the surface of the water, the reflection looked like little, twinkling, rainbow-colored stars. The breeze was blowing gently and the water looked calm. I dreamily walked along the beach, my tiny feet sinking luxuriously into the warm, wet sand. Papa urged me to wade into the water, but I hesitated because this was a new element I wasn’t familiar with. The biggest body of water I have ever seen was a swimming pool. Papa patiently pointed out that nothing bad would happen because he was there to look out for me.

Gingerly, I tested the water with one foot.

“There, that wasn’t so bad, hmm?” Papa asked.

Encouraged, I waded knee-deep into the water and savored the feel of the gentle waves swishing around my legs. I laughed with sheer joy and Papa laughed back at me.

“Will I meet the Little Mermaid here?” I queried.

“I don’t think so, little one, but what I know for sure is that you will meet new friends, experience new things and have the adventure of your life. Is that good?” Papa replied.

I nodded and smiled. Soon Papa told us to go back to the car so that we can be on our way. It was getting late and we were still a few hours away from our new home. I looked back as we were leaving. I can see the gentle waves breaking into foam on the beach, and I imagined myself in another city with my new friends, with colorful pails and shovels, playing on the sand as the sun shines benevolently overhead while the sea serenely waits for me to make a closer acquaintance. Yes, the sea is going to be a lifelong friend. I nodded in satisfaction. Papa was right. This is my new world and I was on my way to the greatest adventure of a lifetime.

THE WEDDING GOWN


Leslie was sitting on the bed, reverently touching the lace bridal gown that was spread out before her. She lovingly traced the intricate beadwork that adorned the bodice, a sweet smile playing on her lips. Glen insisted that she had this gown made to her personal specifications and not to worry about the cost. He wants the best for his beautiful bride-to-be.

In three days, the wedding will take place. After a stormy six months of courtship, Leslie has finally agreed to marry Glen. Jane, Leslie’s sister is now very busy making preparations for the wedding, the highlight of which, aside from the wedding itself is the dance the night before.

The pre-wedding dance. She has almost forgotten about that. Leslie laughed softly. She could almost picture in her mind the way her relatives will compete with Glen’s to outdo each other for the money dance. The couple has a special dance when relatives of the pride will pin peso bills on the grooms clothes, and vise-versa. Of course it will be a contest of who is able to raise the greater amount of money. It is a matter of honor, and Leslie was sure Glen’s relative will never countenance losing face in this affair. Well, it will be a blessing and will help start off their married life. The money can be set aside for when they start building a house before the children come.

“Leslie, come out here. The florist wants to know if you are okay with the flower arrangements for the church...” that was Jane, her sister.

“Okay, I’ll be out in a sec. Just let me hang my wedding gown so it will not crease.”

“Hey, don’t ever try to try that on. Or something will happen to prevent the wedding.” Jane firmly said.

“I won’t, I promise!” People could be so superstitious, Leslie mused. Where do they get all these ideas? With a last look at the now hanging wedding gown, Leslie sauntered out of the room to talk with the florist.

The night of the dance came. Leslie sparkled. She was so beautiful in a long white dress shot with silver that hugged her body to perfection. Her hair was caught up in a knot on the top of her head, wispy tendrils caressing her flushed cheeks. Glen could barely take his eyes off her, this girl-woman that has captured his heart. With a sudden surge of tenderness, he caught her close to him, once again making a promise to himself that he will do everything humanly possible to make her happy.

At 12 midnight, Jane made the couple leave the dance so that they can rest and be fresh for their wedding day. Glen walked Leslie to the house. He didn’t want to let her go, this precious and beloved woman. But he must control himself, tomorrow; Leslie will be Mrs. Glen Sebastian Blanco. He smiled down at her sparkling eyes and bent slowly to give her a tender kiss full of promise.

“Tomorrow,” he promised.
“Tomorrow,” Leslie echoed.

Leslie was in a daze. Life is so beautiful, she thought. Somehow, she was able to hang the beautiful dress beside her wedding gown, and in fifteen minutes, she was ready for bed. As she passed the full length mirror, she saw her reflection and stopped to look for a moment. What she saw was a young woman whose rosy skin was still moist from her shower, her long black hair flowing in a shimmering mane down her back. Her face, scrubbed clean of all vestige of make up looks so innocent, like a school girl. She wrinkled her nose and blew a kiss at her reflection.

Leslie woke up with a start. She has this uncanny feeling that someone is in the darkened room with her. Her heart started beating a tattoo against her chest, her breath was coming in broken gasps. Unreasoning fear swept through her, rendering her body paralyzed. When a heavy weight settled on the bed by her side, she broke out from the stupor and tried to roll on the other side. But strong fingers grabbed her arm, and a hand covered her mouth. She stared up at the beady eyes gleaming with evil. Her mother’s fourth husband.

“NO! NOT AGAIN!” Leslie screamed silently.

The day of the wedding dawned bright and sunny. A good omen, Jane thought. But what is keeping Leslie in bed? She has to get ready or she will be late. With a cup of coffee on one hand, Jane knocked on Leslie’s door and waited for Leslie to answer. When she didn’t, Jane pushed the door open.

“Hey Les, get up, girl. You have to get ready. I brought you a cup of coffee to wake you up.”

As she neared the bed, she gave a laugh that was half amusement and half exasperation. Leslie was lying on the bed dressed in her wedding gown. She looked so young and beautiful.

“Hey, Les, get up or you will get that gown badly creased.” When Leslie didn’t move, Jane bent down to give her a shake. As she did so, her eyes fell on an empty bottle of sleeping pills. Jane’s heart started hammering. With a premonition that was bordering on panic, she took hold of Leslie’s ice cold wrist to feel for a pulse. Nothing. Jane’s fingers loosened on the coffee cup that she hasn’t noticed she was still clutching. If fell with a dull thud, the coffee spreading into an ever widening pool on the white carpet. She stared stupidly as the liquid slowly sipped into the carpet. Then she gave a shrill scream that resonated with grief and desolation.

LEAF




One day, I was sitting on a wooden bench under a chesa tree talking with my cousins. We were reminiscing about the good old days when a bottle of soft drink costs only 25 centavos instead of 10 pesos. Suddenly, a gust of strong wind blew, making the dust swirl around us. I started sneezing and my cousins laughed while one commented that I don't seem to have outgrown my allergies. I laughed with them and then stood up to go inside my house. As I did so, a dry, brown leaf fell right in front of my face. It hang right there, suspended in mid-air, turning and twirling as if challenging me to make a comment. I stood mesmerized for a moment, all sounds of laughter and chatter receding into the background. I raised my eyes and realized that the leaf hangs on a silken web shot with rainbow color as sunlight hits it at a certain angle. And amidst the inane jokes being thrown back and forth all around me, I fell into a profound pattern of thought regarding growing old and dying.

This leaf has served its purpose. It has produced chlorophyll to feed the tree. It has stood by its duty rain or shine. It has weathered all sorts of challenges- storms, insects, the hot sun, strong winds, children who shake the branches for beetles. And now, it hangs suspended, dry and brittle, waiting for the web to break and drop it to the ground. And then, it will just be another leaf to be swept and burned.

Human life runs along a parallel line. We are born; we mature and serve our purpose. We have children, we raise and nurture them, give them the best of what's in us. We experience trials and adversities, the storms of life buffet us. But we stand firm, our eyes and hearts focused on one thing - to see our children through.

And after our job is done, what is left? Do we just wait for the silken web of life to break? Do we allow ourselves to hang suspended until it is time for our earthly bodies to become fodder for the worms?

I have met many senior citizens who have expressed the sad sentiment of just waiting for death to come and claim them. Many have struggled against loneliness after their children have left to live their own lives. Some have lamented this notion that they have outlived their usefulness.

At this point in time the difference between a leaf and a human life should start. A leaf falls off from the tree and is nothing. But a person, whose youth and beauty may have faded, whose children must already have left the nest, who are in their 50's, 60's or even 70's - this is just your second wind to start a new adventure.

What is the average lifespan of man? 60? 65? If God has granted you life after that, He must have done so for a purpose. Your duty is to find that purpose and fulfill it.

Dear friends, there is no retirement from life. While there is breath left in your body, there is that chance to embark on some new adventure, to do some good and make a difference. Don't hang suspended like that leaf. Utilize the years you have left to make a mark, to do the things you have always wanted to do but never had the time or the opportunity. Today is yours. Take it.

And for those of us, who have reached mid life and are still in the middle of the race, let us remember that life for us has become shorter. Let us not live the same day twice. So that if today, we die, it wouldn't be with regrets that we could have done more with our lives.