The Keys, The Kids

Mitch and I were chatting this afternoon on YM. It was hot and everything was moving in slow motion. I was glad when Mitch texted me to say she’s online and we can chat like we always do when she gets the chance to get connected.

I was showing off my new Multiply banner to her. The first thing she said was---

“Darl! THE KEYS”, that sounds like a movie title.”

“Hey,” I replied, “you think you can make a home movie about my love story?”

And we went on to think up other titles for the “imaginary movie”. Like The Kissing Keys which seemed totally hilarious. We were giggling so much about the impossibility of the thought -up titles that the audio decided we were sounding totally inane and needed to be cut off. We gave up video chat when Mitch’s Wi-Fi connection became too weak that the video froze and the audio became choppy. We resorted to typing and went on to chat about other stuff, then we discussed her internship resume and she let me read what she had done so far. I was impressed. The girl is smart, but I expected no less. I was teaching her to read and write at age 3. Both she and JB already knew how to read and write even before they started school.

I chatted for a while with 5 year old Raphael and Mitch asked me if we could try the video chat again. Raphael was screaming with glee when he saw me on webcam.

“Mommy Darling, I can see you, I can see you.” He said how he misses me and wants to see me soon so can I come visit him? It was gratifying to feel soooo missed when we were together all morning and afternoon just the other day.

Children have been such a big part of my life. There was my niece Angie, Raphael’s mom, who was only 3 months old when she came to us. I was her little surrogate mother. I fuzzed over her after school, I will rush through my homework and take her everywhere with me on my bike. I stopped hanging out with my friends so I can come home early to spend time with her. I thought her to love books, and supported her through college. And look at her now, a highly successful HR Manager of a big company and earning big bucks.

There is Mitch. I taught her to sing when she was only 3. I am torn between jumping with pride and having a heart attack when she is performing. Aside from taking after me in her love for books and writing, she has this special talent for singing and she has the voice of an angel that touches the hearts of those who hear her. She is my goddaughter and I’m mighty proud of her. Just another year and she will graduate from college.

Then there’s my adopted daughter Jaybee, a very special girl. Everyone who knows me knows the story of JB’s life and how I came to raise her up as my daughter. She is also in college and is into cooking. She cooks really well, and I admit she didn’t get that from me. :) Steve and I are seeing both girls through college. It’s our dream to see them starting off their adult lives with all the pluses we can possibly give them.

It’s really a hot afternoon. Thinking about the girls, about Raphael, and thinking about how these kids have brought both joy and pain in my life took my mind off the humidity. The great part of my life spent looking out for them is worth it.

My greatest reward? The chance to spend the rest of my life with Steve. What???? You see no connection????

Neither do I. I just wanted to say it.

Master Chef In The Making

I was a novice when it comes to cooking. I know just the very basic like fried eggs, fried chicken, fried fish and other food that just needs to be fried. However, when I met Steve, I knew it was essential that I should learn to cook. He is a great cook and he can come up with amazing dishes even when it’s almost like time to go grocery shopping again. You know--- when the fridge is almost empty, and the cupboard needs restocking. He would check what’s left and he can whip up something from the “stragglers” that is sure to whet the appetite. I would watch him cook, awed at the ingenuity and expertise. He would talk about the different cuts of meat, how long they need to be cooked, what spices go well with what, how he would mix fruits and veggies in the salads.

It isn’t because I feel less of a woman because I couldn’t cook well and Steve can, or that I think of cooking as a woman’s job. Anyone can cook well whether the person is a man or a woman. It doesn’t matter what the gender as cooking is a skill that anyone can learn and master. I just need to satisfy that hunger in me, no pun intended, J a hunger to learn, a desire to understand the fulfillment and pleasure of turning out great dishes.

I’m telling you, it’s not easy. Many times, I have cooked flops and I had to give the neighbors’ cats and dogs some free meals with the prayer that they won’t suffer from indigestion and ambush me when I dare to step out of my front door.

It’s a lot of fun though. Especially when I learned that it’s not always good to follow a recipe to the letter. Or that you have to know how to shop well for your ingredients. That the best way to cook is by knowing how to use your own taste buds to determine the outcome of your recipes. A pinch more or less a shake… depends on how you want your dishes to turn out. I have been cooking up a storm in my tiny kitchen since then. Seeing people enjoying their meals, rubbing their stomachs and sighing with satisfaction… well it’s absolutely gratifying, like you have done the world some good.

I’m far from being an expert. But I’m still learning. And I can already cook a mean Steak with Darl’s Special Gravy.: D My daughter says that I can beat the famous gravy of an expensive restaurant here hands down. I can also make Beef Caldereta, Pastel, Sinigang, Asado and so many more.

Is the effort of learning to cook worth it? Yes, it is. The fulfillment it gives me is worth every drop of sweat, the cut on my fingers, the burns and the washing up.

One thing more I learned. I cook my best dishes when I’m happy. It’s true what people say about cooking --- it’s affected by the state of your emotions. I never cook when I’m angry or upset.

SLEEPLESS IN CALAMBA!

1:59 AM. I have gone to bed twice, only to get up again after tossing and turning and failing to fall asleep. Darn, I have to get up really early because the movers will be here around 8am and I have some final checking to do. Yep, you got it right. I’m moving house.

Maybe I’m overly tired, and that usually keeps me awake instead of knocking me off to oblivion. Or maybe I have been doing a lot of thinking lately, trying to figure out some questions about life that don’t have any answers at all and I’m just too plain foolish to take those thoughts to bed. Maybe it ‘s JB tickling me and telling funny stories before she finally fell asleep that has left me wide awake. Maybe…….

Too many maybes. I need to sleep so I will be ready for the big move tomorrow. Oooppss. Not so big. I’m just moving a few blocks from here. What’s big is the packing and the unpacking that is the obvious sequel to that.

What am I doing rambling like this at now past 2 in the morning?

Sigh! It wouldn’t have been so bad if I could turn out a piece of exceptionally riveting story to post in my blog. Or if Steve is not at therapy and we can chat for a while.

Maybe I’m really too tired to fall asleep. My body is crying out for a much-needed rest but my brain is clicking away and refusing to shut down. I keep seeing a slide show of the things I have to do tomorrow. And it’s making me more tired than ever. Help!!!!

The one thing that is making me happy about this move is the bigger kitchen and I get a better view of Mt. Makiling when I take walks.

Maybe a glass of warm milk will help. Darn, I have packed everything except a bottle of sparkling water in the fridge. 2:33Am. I should be so lucky to grab a couple of hours sleep. But I’ll try. I will really try. Yeah, who am I kidding? Might as well do some last minute check if the clothes cabinets are really empty.

Another darn! I have been sitting here alternately pounding on the keyboard and staring into space when I have to unhinge the kitchen door from the jamb so the movers can get the fridge out. It will never go through if I don’t remove the door. Hon, help!!!!

CELEBRATION

When I was a kid, I couldn’t wait for Christmas to come around, and of course, the New Year, its twin occasion. We always got new clothes and shoes, one set for each event, toys and lots and lots of special food. I have always looked back on that with fond memories.

Life is so simple when you are a child. A word is taken at face value, no hidden meanings and no complications. It’s so easy to be happy, and so easy to recover from disappointments.

I’m looking at things much differently now. Yes, life has become so much more complicated. Age has something to do with that I suppose. Attitude, maturity , the need for a more meaningful existence and maybe the influence of the past, too, have all helped in shaping up a new way of looking at things It would have been so much easier to have retained the simplicity of a child and the simple way of coping with life.

Even occasions for celebration have become different. Christmas has become less important than the New Year. The new clothes and festive meals have lost their appeal. When before lechon and morcon were the very essence of the Noche Buena, now they have become a means to unwanted pounds, clogged arteries and all sorts of middle age sickness. New clothes? Nah. Maybe for my nieces, Mitch and JB.

My Christmas and the New Year now means celebrating with my loved ones. A time to gather in the family home, to have quiet moments of just catching up with what the others have been up to for the past year. A time to pray for strength and guidance for another year of battling for survival in this crumbling world. A time to reaffirm the love and affection, to show each other that you will always be there when you are needed. Never mind cooking up a storm in the kitchen. Never mind dressing up in spanking attires enough to shame royalties. Love, loyalty, self-sacrifice, faith. That is what Christmas is all about.

It’s too late now to greet all of you a Merry Christmas and too early for next Christmas. But I still wish you all the best for the coming year. Sorry for the cluttered way I wrote this blog. The end of the year has sent me into a binge of introspection and I wrote this entry with no thought for form and style. Don’t go getting a headache trying to figure out where I’m coming from.

The Man is Back!

The Man is back.

For the first time after the accident, Steve and I were able to talk on the phone and chat on YM without tiptoeing. I wasn’t tiptoeing about his condition, afraid to upset him more than necessary. I slipped up now and then, those 4 weeks, but now, I don’t have to think about what to say or worry about him. And as for Steve, he is more open about how he feels, if he is in pain or if he is bored. He is no longer trying so hard to protect me and to stop me from worrying. This is really great. We both know it’s only a matter of time before he is well enough to travel. And that knowledge has released us both from the tension of the last few weeks.

Steve’s laugh has a different ring to it now - it sounds happy, optimistic and full of life. It’s one of the many things that I like most about him, his laughter. I can be down in the dumps, absolutely miserable, but when Steve starts clowning around and laughing, he carries me along and anything that has upset me is soon forgotten.

We are also back to talking endlessly about almost every topic under the sun., like about us and our plans, family, politics, personal convictions, - oh, anything that catches our interest. Yup, I’m definitely happier and more hopeful that it won’t be long before Steve is home, his real home which is with me.

The days seem long, but brighter. Normal and yet special. Welcome back, hon.

He’s Home!

Steve is back in Toronto. In spite of his condition, he was able to make it back to Toronto from Sudbury by bus. BY BUS! The man has an iron will and once he made up his mind to go home, nothing could stop him. He said he was a bit tired after hours on the bus, but otherwise, he feels fine, and is happy about having proper meals and his own bed to sleep in. A few months of therapy and he will be ready to come home. For keeps. I’m not letting him out of my sight once he sets foot in the Philippines. I had a rough month behind me and I don’t intend to go through worrying like a demented woman ever again. I’m a lot happier now knowing that my husband is home and just healing and waiting until he is strong enough to hop on a plane for home. Thank you for the prayers from so many people. From Friends, Family, and my pastor. In a time of crisis like this, it’s really good to have praying friends rallying to bring the voices of supplication to God’s heavenly throne. Thank you so much.

UPDATE ON STEVE

Steve will probably be discharged from the hospital by the weekend. That's good news. He still hasn't revealed the true extent of his injuries. He keeps joking and teasing whenever he calls me or when we text each other. He has 3 casts in 3 different places and will be undergoing therapy for a few months, possibly until March. So without saying a word, I know that he was seriously injured. I appreciate the effort he makes to keep me from worrying. That's Steve, always shielding me from the nasty bumps in this world.

He is bored to death after 3 weeks in the hospital, so I am really happy about the possibility of him being sent home on Saturday.

Jaybee and I are devastated that he won't be home with us on Christmas day. He wants us to put up the Christmas tree and hang the wreath on our front door. We are going to do that. But it won't be the same. Jaybee and Steve have a very special affinity with each other. Having grown up without a father, and suddenly finding one in Steve who can understand her and give her the loving concern a father has for his daughter,she expects him to be home for special occasions like this. We are both heartbroken, and although we have ceased locking ourselves in the bedroom to have a crying spree, all three of us have not yet fully recovered from Steve's accident. Steve has to suffer physically as well as emotionally because we were both counting so much on being together this Christmas season. He would have been home last Saturday.

Next Christmas will be different. God willing, Steve won't be back in Canada for a while. And he will surely be home next Christmas day...

What Now?

The past weeks have been totally chaotic and they have left me with a lot of unresolved feelings. Steve has been reticent about his injuries and I’m not really sure what I am facing and how to cope. I know he is doing this in an effort to stop me from worrying. He thinks I worry unnecessarily. But I’d rather know everything than worry about something I cannot understand. I am not even sure when he will be able to come back.

Life is truly unpredictable. One day you are feeling on top of the world, the next, you are in the pits of hell. I don’t want to pressure Steve in his current condition, but sometimes, I wish there is something I could hold on to. I have been alone for the past year, not something I have envisioned at all when we became a couple. It wasn’t Steve’s fault or mine but just pure bad luck that prevented him from coming home for the Christmas holiday last year. I was supposed to meet him at the airport today but the accident happened. I was looking forward to putting up our Christmas tree, but instead he is still in a hospital in Sudbury with multiple fractures and the flu on top of it. So it’s another Christmas day without him. And I’m still nowhere near to figuring out when he will be well enough to come home.

I am not being unreasonable, just a bit rebellious about how life has been treating me for over twenty years. I have been through a lot of crap and I thought when I met Steve, good fortune has finally smiled at me. So what am I doing crying myself to sleep at night again? And not finding any joy in what is going on around me? Sometimes, I feel like a bit of flotsam being tossed by the waves, just getting carried along in any direction. Darn, I need to put down roots. I need an anchor. I hate being in a limbo, no definite plans, everything on hold.

I sometimes think I would have been better off not to have fallen in love, not to care at all. Then none of what is happening to me would hurt so much. But not having Steve in my life at all is even worse. So what do I do now?

PREMONITION: IT HAS HAPPENED

The thing I was so afraid of has happened.Now I realize who, how and what it is. Steve had a car accident in Sudbury while coming home from visiting his brother from the hospital who just had a surgery. A drunk driver beat the red light and smashed into Steve's car, sending it spinning and leaving him with a dislocated shoulder and multiple fractures. He was already supposed to be going back to Toronto the following morning and has said he will call me before he leaves Sudbury. I am glad he survived with just those injuries and I thank God for that. Steve is now in the same hospital as his brother, no one to look after him as Randy and Carolyn are both in Toronto, around 4 1/2 hours to where Steve is. His sister in law has her husband to look after, but she is taking the time to look in on Steve and check on him. She also keeps Randy informed of his dad's progress and Randy in turn, relays it to me. Just a week from now, Steve is supposed to be back here for a really long vacation. We were wanting a church wedding on our second year anniversary, but I guess all plans are on hold for now as I don't even know if he will be well enough to hop on a plane and sit for long hours with his injuries. So this is what the premonition is all about. I'm just glad I may be just losing some of the things we have planned to do,but not him because I can't face losing the man who has become my world in the past two years. Get better soon, love. I miss you.

PREMONITION

Something never felt quite right the last few months. It has been teasing my mind, a seed of doubt, of fear that has pestered into something totally painful and unmanageable. The weird thing is I can't quite put a finger on the whys and who's. There is no concrete reason why I should feel threatened, and yet somehow, a feeling that the ax is about to fall is constantly there in the darkest corner of my mind. A feeling that I am about to lose something very important to me has started plaguing my waking moments, making my heart ache, causing unwanted tears to fall.

I have been real happy the last 21 months that I have forgotten life can be so capricious. I have left my defense down, let the barriers to fall into decay. Where once I have hugged caution like my dearest friend, I have exiled it and forbidden it from encroaching into my present domain which I consider to finally be completely happy and peaceful. Nothing and no one is allowed to breach the quiet perfection of my world. It's impregnable, or so I thought.

And now this. The usual confidence is gone. The quiet hiatus from the cruelty of life has seemingly come to an end. I can feel a strong force hammering against the walls of the dreamworld I have built around me. I don't recognize what it is, but I can feel its fearful presence. It has forcibly drummed into my consciousness the fact that life in this world is a constant struggle. I have always known that it is so, but the peace and quiet has lulled me into thinking that everything has fallen into place.

And so I steel myself for what is about to come. I have chosen peace and quiet, love and contentment. But life does not give you a lot of options. It throws at you what it will. The only choice you can make is to let it swamp you into submission, or fight to the end and make the best of what you can.

I am not anticipating trouble. But the years of trying to survive in the battlefield that is called Life honed my skills and intuitions to perfection. My senses tell me a "battle" is waiting to happen. I can't pinpoint when or where or what form it's going to take. But a feeling like a cold finger running down my back, something dark and cold tells me that Premonition has come visiting again. And it has left a definite message. Gear up and keep alert.

DREAMS

Like a handful of stardust,
shining , sparkling.
It tempts, it teases.

I grasped it,
tried to keep it,
Saw the glow slipping through.

Dreams,
Ethereal, elusive
Here today and gone tomorrow.

FLU!

I had the flu. It was a bad case and I thought I was dying. I had a fever that won't break for the longest time, I couldn't breathe unless the AC was on, and when the fever eases for a bit, I started getting chilled. After a while, the fever rages again.

One week. It took all of one week before it finally decided to leave and take on another victim. My daughter. So, I was left debilitated by that darn bug and I had to take care of my girl right away. Good thing she has a better resistance to it and got better in three days.

Me? I was dehydrated and my blood pressure plummeted to an all time low making me queasy and dizzy and almost passing out every time I moved. My doctor said to take plenty of fluids, preferably water, get some more rest and forget about washing dishes and laundry or scrubbing the bathroom. And no tiring myself out with my graphics project. Dang!

I feel much better now. But my budget is shot to pieces because of the unexpected medical expenses. I told my daughter that we have to be careful not to get sick again because we can't afford it.:)

Being sick is the pits. It keeps me away from all the stuff I love to do and eats up all my resources, too. I hope the big, bad flu leaves me and my daughter alone for the rest of the year.:)

WAPAKELS!

The new street slang going the rounds of the teen crowd. Wapakels! I don't care! Not that I don't really care, I'm just taking a break from caring too much. Recovering from being burned out. How????

Graphics. A new interest for me. 3D makes me really self-centered, like I can spend hours on the PC working on my models, rendering and not caring if I eat or not. I shut out everything... sounds, smell, hunger pangs...they mean nothing to me when I'm doing my stuff. I turn on the AC, hah! El Nino is nothing when the AC is on, and work away on modelling and texturing.:)) WAPAKELS!!!!

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.