It's been a long time since I last came to Hong Kong. About 30 years, if the truth be known. In those days there was no MTR, no plethora of kitschy souvenir shops at the Peak, no hoards of Filipinos at virtually every street corner.
Filipinos – now that's something I simply wasn't expecting in such vast quantities. And yet I suddenly felt all at home after spending the last ten years in the Gulf where there seem to be more Filipinos per square inch than any other nationality. And just as in the UAE and Saudi, all the Filipinos I have met here are the friendliest, most caring people I know. And top of the list – for me at least – has to be my guide and mentor for the past week, Miam Medrano.
"Meet me under the large screen at the airport," she commanded when I told her I was on my way over to HK. And being one who (nearly) always does what he is told, I (almost) sat under the giant screen – in practice, about three metres away – and paid the price when poor Miam walked round and round for half an hour looking for the only guy on the airport concourse wearing a brick-red jacket. But it seems that those three metres was her undoing, and I felt suitably chastised when finally we met up.
I was taken to a barbeque at Stanley where I was introduced to nine of her friends and was fed the most wonderful delicacies (and it's no use telling me that anything tastes wonderful after the muck they serve you on Cathay Pacific – this was really good, believe me!). Daisy amused us all with her wit and banter, while Anne rolled her hips and fluttered her eyelashes in a way that would put any sexy pole dancer to shame, and all the while the food kept on coming and coming.
Now, I wonder what the opposite of a homing pigeon is? Because that would be a perfect description for the lovely Miam. We get to an MTR station and you can guarantee that if we should be going out one exit, she would instinctively lead me to one on totally the opposite side of the building; until, that is, I learned the rules of the game after which if she pointed in one direction, I would lead her the opposite way and all would be OK. Yet, thinking of it, I shouldn't be surprised, given the confusing signs there are all over HK. "Stand on the right, hold the handrail, walk on the left” reads one confusing sign at Central MTR. Well how, I ask myself? Or "In case of fire do not use the lift" I am told at my hotel (but as my room is on the 16th floor I decided to take the risk and use the lift anyway). "Beware trucks" I am admonished in a pedestrian only zone at Tsim Sha Tsui (falling from above, perhaps?).
Miam took me to see the Giant Buddha at Ngong Ping on Lantau. Just as well I had skipped breakfast as the entrance fee includes lunch (whether you want it or not). We sat down at a table and a huge tureen of soup was brought over to us. We were just starting on our second bowl when the rest arrived – a pot of rice and plate-loads of vegetables of every description – literally enough for five people. How Miam must have wished she had brought plastic containers with her!
She took me to see the Symphony of Lights – not once, but twice – the first time from the Avenue of Stars and the second night from Wan Chai, from where you can see the show on both sides of the harbour. We went to see not one museum, but four on the same day – a Wednesday – and discovered that museums are free to get into on Wednesdays.
We went to the beautiful Nan Lian Garden (no, Miam, let's try going in through the entrance!) and the not-so-beautiful Peak from where we were able to peer down through the mist to the harbour below. And everywhere we went there would be Filipinas that would drift in and out of conversation with us as we passed on our merry way. Yes, HK is a beautiful city, full of surprises, and full of lovely people. And a word to the wise: if you want a cheap date, ask your beloved if they would like to see the Giant Buddha anytime around lunchtime, and follow that with a tour of the museums – just so long as it is a Wednesday.
Oh yes, and if you accept an invitation from Miam to act as your guide, just remember to take along your GPS with you.
Author: Brian Salter
29 December 2008
14 December 2008
Casualties Of War
Reading the story of Angela (Cover Story, skillfully narrated by Amy Gunnacao) reminded me of many distant tales of people I know. One is about my wife’s nephew who is a good and hard-working young man. He worked for 3 years in Saudi Arabia in his teens and after his vacation, for some reason, he could not come back. For several years he couldn’t find the luck to land for another overseas job. And so finally, when the chance came for an opening in Israel 5 years ago, he grabbed it. Before his departure, he brought his young family together with his wife, who is a teacher, to our house for a visit. I asked him why, of all places abroad, he chose to work in Israel – a country always at war. Without any hesitation his reply was short and straightforward, “Uncle, mas mahirap ang giyera sa sikmura dito – gutom!”
I was baffled by his determination to leave knowing that he is fully aware of the dangers that lie ahead in his place of destination and also of the tragic fate that befell his older brother in a not-so-recent past. The brother I am referring to worked in South Korea for 5 straight years without a single chance to go home for a vacation – the reason is because he was an undocumented worker. When he finally came home, in a matter of just few months, he got terribly sick. And so after a long battle with illness that saw his savings all wiped out he succumbed and died of cancer, obviously contracted from the harmful chemicals of the garment factory where he worked without proper protective and safety gears in a remote town in South Korea. He left behind a son and a grieving young wife who endured 5 years dreaming for his return.
I am sure that you have heard similar stories even before you started your own journey. Yet, these sad tales do not deter our spirit from seeking our destiny from all the four corners of the world – all in the name of our dream for a better life for our family and for ourselves. Our country is at war and fighting a formidable enemy – poverty! And most of us might not know it yet, but as OFWs, we are our country’s Salvation Army. This “war” has no geographical boundaries. It has no visible weapon of destruction, no deafening explosions yet its damage can be heard through the cries of our love ones left behind. This fight is for them and for the sake of our country. The irony though is that while many of our brothers-and-sisters-in-arms, especially those who are ill-equipped to face danger, are dying in the battlefield of survival our “generals” back home are basking with all the luxuries in life. And so stories such as those I mentioned above abound and will always be heard. What hurts me though is the fact that the numbers of these incidents will continuously grow as life gets harder each day in our country, but what pains me more is to know that our “generals” believe that the sad fate of Angela, the dangers faced by my wife’s nephew in Israel, the exploitation of the many undocumented OFWs, and the many more untold tragedies that I’m sure many of you are aware of, are just to them – Casualties Of War. That is probably the reason why they labeled the OFWs “Bagong Bayani“… for us to bleed in the battlefield while they hide in the comforts of their war rooms!
Author: Tony Bartolome, Editor, True Friends Newsmag
*Published in True Friends Newsmag (November 2008 issue)
I was baffled by his determination to leave knowing that he is fully aware of the dangers that lie ahead in his place of destination and also of the tragic fate that befell his older brother in a not-so-recent past. The brother I am referring to worked in South Korea for 5 straight years without a single chance to go home for a vacation – the reason is because he was an undocumented worker. When he finally came home, in a matter of just few months, he got terribly sick. And so after a long battle with illness that saw his savings all wiped out he succumbed and died of cancer, obviously contracted from the harmful chemicals of the garment factory where he worked without proper protective and safety gears in a remote town in South Korea. He left behind a son and a grieving young wife who endured 5 years dreaming for his return.
I am sure that you have heard similar stories even before you started your own journey. Yet, these sad tales do not deter our spirit from seeking our destiny from all the four corners of the world – all in the name of our dream for a better life for our family and for ourselves. Our country is at war and fighting a formidable enemy – poverty! And most of us might not know it yet, but as OFWs, we are our country’s Salvation Army. This “war” has no geographical boundaries. It has no visible weapon of destruction, no deafening explosions yet its damage can be heard through the cries of our love ones left behind. This fight is for them and for the sake of our country. The irony though is that while many of our brothers-and-sisters-in-arms, especially those who are ill-equipped to face danger, are dying in the battlefield of survival our “generals” back home are basking with all the luxuries in life. And so stories such as those I mentioned above abound and will always be heard. What hurts me though is the fact that the numbers of these incidents will continuously grow as life gets harder each day in our country, but what pains me more is to know that our “generals” believe that the sad fate of Angela, the dangers faced by my wife’s nephew in Israel, the exploitation of the many undocumented OFWs, and the many more untold tragedies that I’m sure many of you are aware of, are just to them – Casualties Of War. That is probably the reason why they labeled the OFWs “Bagong Bayani“… for us to bleed in the battlefield while they hide in the comforts of their war rooms!
Author: Tony Bartolome, Editor, True Friends Newsmag
*Published in True Friends Newsmag (November 2008 issue)
A First
There’s nothing like acknowledging a first time and savor its uniqueness. Most often than not, I take for granted a thing or a word that I have seen or heard for the first time. A ‘new experience’, in all the sense of that word, needs to be savored and cherished since it would no longer be a ‘first’ the next time you encounter that experience. It would be a completely new story.
Another shebang.
Another ballpark.
And in circumstances that you’ll keep on encountering that experience, it became ordinary and just a part of the background.
Ignored.
Neglected.
But when it’s suddenly gone, you’ll begin to wonder why. You’ll be literally taken aback of what’s amiss.
Author: Maia Noval
*Published in True Friends Newsmag (November 2008 issue)
Another shebang.
Another ballpark.
And in circumstances that you’ll keep on encountering that experience, it became ordinary and just a part of the background.
Ignored.
Neglected.
But when it’s suddenly gone, you’ll begin to wonder why. You’ll be literally taken aback of what’s amiss.
Author: Maia Noval
*Published in True Friends Newsmag (November 2008 issue)
Engkwentro
Nanginginig sa takot. Butil-butil na pawis ang tumatagaktak mula sa noo, nanlalamig sa nerbiyos at nauutal. Anong nakikita ko? Sa may bukana ng pintuan, isang matandang babaeng nakaitim ng sumbrero at my hawak na nangingintab na parang palakol. Nakayuko sya’t hindi ko maaninag ang itsura. “Si… sino ka?”, pilit kong hinagilap ang aking boses. Unti-unting tumingala at tumingin sa dako ng aking kinaroroonan. Nakita ko ang kulubot niyang pisngi.
Ang kulay suka niyang balat at ang inaagnas niyang mukha. Ngumiti siya sa akin. Ngiti ng kamatayan. Lalo akong kinalibutan. Nanindig ang aking balahibo. Pinilit kong tumakas. Kumaripas ako ng takbo hanggang sa hindi na niya ako maabutan. Ngunit mabilis niyang hinaklot ang aking braso. Sobrang higpit na kahit anong gawin kong pagprotesta ay hindi pa rin ako makawala. Pinilit kong sumigaw upang humingi ng saklolo pero walang lumabas na boses sa aking bibig. Inipon ko ang aking lakas, tinibayan ang aking dibdib at buong pwersa kong isinigaw, “Pakawalan mo ako!” Subalit mistulang walang nakakarinig. Walang sasaklolo. Alam kong katapusan ko na.
Kasabay ng pagpatak ng aking luha, ipinikit ko nalang ang aking mata. Mabilis akong nagbalik tanaw sa nakaraan. Inalala ang mga mahal sa buhay, mga taong naging bahagi ng aking pighati at ligaya. At kung bibigyan man ako ng pagkakataon ni kamatayan na gumawa ng 3 kahilingan bago ako tulayang maging isang kasaysayan na lamang, hihilingin kong…
1. Bigyan ako ng isang araw na makasama ang aking pamilya.
2. Makita at makausap ang sinumang nasaktan ko o nakapanakit sa akin.
3. Ikasal ako sa dambana.
At sa puntong ito inihanda ko na ang aking sarili mula sa sugo ni kamatayan. Tanggap ko na ang aking katapusan… Hanggang sa maramdaman kong my malamig na kamay sa aking balikat. Niyuyugyog ako… “Hey,wake up! You’re having a bad dream! It’s time for work and yet you’re sleeping. Better stand up and start working before I terminate you!” Habol ang hininga, iminulat ko ang aking mata. Whoa! Anong nakikita ko? Hindi ko maipinta ang mukha at nanlilisik ang matang nakatunghay sa akin.Ayyy… ang amo ko pala! Lagot, parusa na naman ‘to! Pero salamat, Diyos ko, at buhay pa pala ako. Happy halloween!
Author: Amy Gunnacao
*Published in True Friends Newsmag (November 2008 issue)
Ang kulay suka niyang balat at ang inaagnas niyang mukha. Ngumiti siya sa akin. Ngiti ng kamatayan. Lalo akong kinalibutan. Nanindig ang aking balahibo. Pinilit kong tumakas. Kumaripas ako ng takbo hanggang sa hindi na niya ako maabutan. Ngunit mabilis niyang hinaklot ang aking braso. Sobrang higpit na kahit anong gawin kong pagprotesta ay hindi pa rin ako makawala. Pinilit kong sumigaw upang humingi ng saklolo pero walang lumabas na boses sa aking bibig. Inipon ko ang aking lakas, tinibayan ang aking dibdib at buong pwersa kong isinigaw, “Pakawalan mo ako!” Subalit mistulang walang nakakarinig. Walang sasaklolo. Alam kong katapusan ko na.
Kasabay ng pagpatak ng aking luha, ipinikit ko nalang ang aking mata. Mabilis akong nagbalik tanaw sa nakaraan. Inalala ang mga mahal sa buhay, mga taong naging bahagi ng aking pighati at ligaya. At kung bibigyan man ako ng pagkakataon ni kamatayan na gumawa ng 3 kahilingan bago ako tulayang maging isang kasaysayan na lamang, hihilingin kong…
1. Bigyan ako ng isang araw na makasama ang aking pamilya.
2. Makita at makausap ang sinumang nasaktan ko o nakapanakit sa akin.
3. Ikasal ako sa dambana.
At sa puntong ito inihanda ko na ang aking sarili mula sa sugo ni kamatayan. Tanggap ko na ang aking katapusan… Hanggang sa maramdaman kong my malamig na kamay sa aking balikat. Niyuyugyog ako… “Hey,wake up! You’re having a bad dream! It’s time for work and yet you’re sleeping. Better stand up and start working before I terminate you!” Habol ang hininga, iminulat ko ang aking mata. Whoa! Anong nakikita ko? Hindi ko maipinta ang mukha at nanlilisik ang matang nakatunghay sa akin.Ayyy… ang amo ko pala! Lagot, parusa na naman ‘to! Pero salamat, Diyos ko, at buhay pa pala ako. Happy halloween!
Author: Amy Gunnacao
*Published in True Friends Newsmag (November 2008 issue)
The Departed
The loving support of family and friends helped but the ache of loss could not be assuaged. In a birthday party 5 weeks after the burial of one that has been called to heaven, Kongkong (grandpa), my lady boss’ father is still sorrowing over the death of a brother, his best friend for 72 years.
While writers and philosophers have given their best to provide weighty arguments in favor of life after death, they have not succeeded in bringing comfort to the aching, anxious, questioning hearts. What does grieving mean to OFW families whose love ones have died? Just recently a town-mate flew home to arrange the funeral of her husband who died in a painful road accident. A few months ago, an 8 years old child was reunited with her mother after 5 long years of separation only not in a garden of joy but in an ocean of grief…the OFW mom committed suicide. And this year also, a friend working in Singapore lost the last member of her immediate family, her father, leaving her an orphan.
Every 2 long-agonizing years most OFWs take vacation anticipating a happy family reunion. However, deep frustrations and despair arise when the time comes that the people we look forward to be with are no longer available… gone to rest or somewhere not within our reach. The pain of missing or of grieving loved ones isn’t in their absence but it’s when we think of the best times we shared with them.
28 years ago when both of my grandparents died, I thought all the rest of my world were buried dead with them. But I discovered that their presence never departed me. In my long journey, their love enfolds me as though they stand beside me. With time, their thoughts served as steps, my inspiration, my redeemer when days are dull, difficult, or seemingly dying. Along with them there are beautiful souls whose presence had gone but remain forever as part of my existence. They were the people who gave me greater worth and purpose of living – a life of discovery, of teachings and treasures. Ms. Linda Layosa, a wonderful writer, mentor, and friend, my first believer of the gift of writing, who said: “When you have passion, your pen will be restless ’til inkless, by then still you are not thoughtless”. Elvie Oriente, a soul connection, a sisterhood bond that mutually gave us strength and devotion to family responsibility. Unconditional friendship and more from Suzette Cangayda, a brave cancer patient, blackbelt martial artist who influenced me and others the enthusiasm in sports, making our spirits soar like olympic champions, as twice basketball and volleyball team winners. Bro. Jhun Tindaan, Sis.flor Cristal,Sis. Meling Labo, Sis.Mareng Mea, lovable people who shared to me not just the gift of faith likewise - generosity, humility and servanthood.
Late afternoon one weekend, I was sitting by the window of the First Ferry churning its way from Hong Kong Pier across the Victoria Harbour to Discovery Bay. As towering buildings in Central receded in sight, I pondered that everything in the world around us is subject to decline. Plants wither and die, concrete century-old buildings are gradually being eaten away by the gnawing tooth of time. Daily, our bodies grow old and lose youth and vitality. Everything changes, nothing is permanent, just as time shifts from sunrise to sunset, and we from birth to death.
If things don’t last and life is full of uncertainties, what is left for us? November commemorates All Souls and All Saints Day. We honor our departed families and friends by offering gifts, graveyard visitation or prayers. Within the bounds of our acquaintances, we remember individuals with thankfulness while we think negatively of others whose lives were spent in selfish pursuits. While our minds are flooded with recollection of them, we realize that time will come and each of us will also pass away – be a memory. What would others recall when they think of us? Are we happy and productive? Or physically healthy but spiritually dead?
In between sacrifice and waiting comes the biggest challenge that we OFWs face — time. But we can make this opportunity of time to right our wrong, to honor our family commitments, to dream as if there are no limits, to explore in spite of discouragements, to achieve even when we face many obstacles.
Dr. King said: To die is gain if we live and leave a trail of greatness”. Death is like a thief of the night, we never know when our time is up until it’s over. With good spirit, we can use the moment to live, share, ponder, enjoy God’s Blessings for every 60 seconds we spend is a minute of life gone we can never get back.
Early dawn today, I am mesmerized by an alarming message. It reads, “When I die, I wish marami ang makikipaglibing sa akin…” My thoughts gone wild as the words sink to me wondering if he’s sober, sleepless or undergoing difficult situation contemplating into something uncheerful — like suicide. Knowing him as a kind teacher, a fair businessman, an honest-charitable public servant, a person of great virtues, funeral attendance is out of the question. Unsure what to say I replied ”Make sure you die dignified, otherwise baka pati ako hindi makikipaglibing kung sakaling buhay pa ako…” He texted back, “Additional challenge? Life isn’t fun without them. So far I’m enjoying the tides and season. Happy All Souls Day Sis!”
Wow! Sounds glorious on November 1st, and oh ya!!! It’s his big day too, so it was a weird birthday wish after all. Well, I sent wishes and prayers before good thoughts, and time passes by. Can’t go back to sleep, so I lit candles for my beloved departed, reminiscing the old times, wondering how they are out there in heaven!
Author: Annabelle Libao
*Published in True Friends Newsmag (November 2008 issue)
The Angela In Our Lives
What’s with the pinoy label of the mother being “ilaw ng tahanan” and the father being “haligi ng tahanan”? In the absence of either one, it’s hard to keep a balance in the home. In the absence of both, much harder still… or no balance at all. There may be caregivers for our kids left back home (lolo and lola, tito and tita) to take over our responsibilities in our absence but they can never take our place as parents. Substitute, yes. The substitute ilaw ng tahanan may not radiate light as bright as the real mom, like candle in place of a light bulb. The substitute haligi ng tahanan may not be as sturdy as the real dad, like a substitute wooden post for bricks. Never the same. There’s always a void, a vacuum waiting to be filled up in the longing child… hungry for paternal care, aching for maternal care. The child’s emotional imbalance remains undetected… until it’s too late.
Amy Gunnacao’s “In Memory of Angela” in our cover story on TF Newsmag for November nudges us to re-examine our choices and redefine our goals. “To provide a better future for our family” — isn’t that every overseas Filipino workers’ (OFWs) purpose in braving foreign lands? A better future in terms of what? A better education for an OFW child than that of the undergraduate OFW parent. A better and comfortable lifestyle for an OFW child compared with that of the OFW mom/dad who grew up lacking in the basic necessities of life. A better job for the OFW child than that of the OFW who scrubs toilet bowls and foreign butts, who chauffeurs night owl bosses, who operates dangerous machineries and toils on backbreaking jobs. A better future for the Angela in our lives. We stuff Angela’s pocket with cash and gadgets. What about the deposits of faith we’re supposed to place in her heart? Do we reach out far enough to make her feel she’s deeply loved despite our physical absence and geographical gap? Are we certain we’re not drilling large holes in our child’s heart?
OFW parents tend to overcompensate and spoil the child with material things. We fail to realize that other things may be more important — like showing a genuine interest in what concerns our kid and giving our focused, undivided attention. And that is possible through the wires, through letters, and other various ways of getting in touch. Not all OFW children live in comfort the way Angela was provided for by her OFW parents. Financial needs are still not being met in many OFW families and the child has to deal with this as he has to with the emotional needs of being separated from the OFW parent. The psychological impact on an OFW child leaves the deepest mark… It either builds or breaks a character. How we deal with our child now would greatly influence her future. The “better future” we’re so keen on preparing for the family may not come if our parenting system is flawed. We’d wonder if something is wrong with our ways when we see signs of rebellion or when our child’s being withdrawn. We don’t ignore the signs and dismiss it as growing pains. We try our darnedest to communicate – really communicate – and delve deep into the kid’s issues. We connect.
While a light overhead can illuminate every nook and cranny of the room, a candle’s blaze only brightens a corner of it, leaving sore, dark spots. We need not dump the bulk of the responsibility of raising our child in the hands of the caregivers back home. Showing that we’re very involved and so much a part of his/her everyday life will do a great deal of good, a better future is at hand.
Author: Joy Marqueses
Amy Gunnacao’s “In Memory of Angela” in our cover story on TF Newsmag for November nudges us to re-examine our choices and redefine our goals. “To provide a better future for our family” — isn’t that every overseas Filipino workers’ (OFWs) purpose in braving foreign lands? A better future in terms of what? A better education for an OFW child than that of the undergraduate OFW parent. A better and comfortable lifestyle for an OFW child compared with that of the OFW mom/dad who grew up lacking in the basic necessities of life. A better job for the OFW child than that of the OFW who scrubs toilet bowls and foreign butts, who chauffeurs night owl bosses, who operates dangerous machineries and toils on backbreaking jobs. A better future for the Angela in our lives. We stuff Angela’s pocket with cash and gadgets. What about the deposits of faith we’re supposed to place in her heart? Do we reach out far enough to make her feel she’s deeply loved despite our physical absence and geographical gap? Are we certain we’re not drilling large holes in our child’s heart?
OFW parents tend to overcompensate and spoil the child with material things. We fail to realize that other things may be more important — like showing a genuine interest in what concerns our kid and giving our focused, undivided attention. And that is possible through the wires, through letters, and other various ways of getting in touch. Not all OFW children live in comfort the way Angela was provided for by her OFW parents. Financial needs are still not being met in many OFW families and the child has to deal with this as he has to with the emotional needs of being separated from the OFW parent. The psychological impact on an OFW child leaves the deepest mark… It either builds or breaks a character. How we deal with our child now would greatly influence her future. The “better future” we’re so keen on preparing for the family may not come if our parenting system is flawed. We’d wonder if something is wrong with our ways when we see signs of rebellion or when our child’s being withdrawn. We don’t ignore the signs and dismiss it as growing pains. We try our darnedest to communicate – really communicate – and delve deep into the kid’s issues. We connect.
While a light overhead can illuminate every nook and cranny of the room, a candle’s blaze only brightens a corner of it, leaving sore, dark spots. We need not dump the bulk of the responsibility of raising our child in the hands of the caregivers back home. Showing that we’re very involved and so much a part of his/her everyday life will do a great deal of good, a better future is at hand.
Author: Joy Marqueses
In Memory Of Angela
Her name is Angela. A happy and energetic girl at six. People call her “Angel” because of her solemn face with rosy cheeks that make her seem a heaven-sent. She’s the ideal baby of every couple; an obedient child. She goes running to Lola after her class at the preparatory school to hear her favorite fairy tales. Her parents left her with her Lola when they work abroad, in preparation for her future.
Years went by, the little cute darling turned into a gorgeous, conservative lady. She had so many admirers. With the financial support from her parents, she goes to college at a private school in the city, kilometers away from her Lola. She rents an apartment to minimize her commuting. Lack of money was never a problem. Her friends tell her she’s very fortunate for having parents like hers. They can give all she wanted. Yes it is true, she can have all her wishes but there’s something she can’t achieve despite the luxury. She misses something. And this is what she hides from her friends. They never knew, she wasn’t really that fortunate. She rarely saw her parents. The last time with them was when she was still in high school. They weren’t present in her graduation from primary and secondary school, wherein she received high honors. She wasn’t given importance. This is Angela’s thought whenever she’s alone. She really longs for her parents’ care and love. It’s good that she has her loving Lola, who took her parents’ place, acted as her mother and father since childhood. No doubt she love her Lola so much. And even in the smallest difficulty she has, her Lola is always there to guide and tell her what to do.
One day, her friends were so worried with the many absences she incurred. Three days stretched to more than a week away from class. They paid her a visit at her Lola’s place but didn’t find Angela there. According to her Lola, she left on Sunday but failed to come back home for the week-end to get her allowance. Lola was terribly worried. Soon, they decided to look for Angela.
They searched the places that she possibly could have gone to but they found no Angela. Afternoon, Lola’s losing heart. But there’s one more thing she’s afraid of — Angela’s parents. What will they do upon knowing that Angela is missing? Ah! she doesn’t really know what to do anymore. After sometime, a knock on the door startled her. Instantly, she thought it was Angela. She rushed to the door and opened it immediately. Her excitement turned into disappointment after seeing the postman, who handed her a letter. It was from Angela’s parents. She opened it quickly. The old woman grew more tense. This is what she’s been afraid of. Angela’s parents are coming home for a vacation. She cried out Angela’s name. She looked up and uttered a prayer. Yes, she can’t do anything more but pray. Lola looked pitiful, seated at the window, hoping that Angela would come home.
As she was expecting, Angela emerged from the door. She was taken by surprise. She doesn’t know what to say, whom to thank but she found herself hugging her granddaughter. Angela cried. “Apo…” Lola began, “what is it? What happened? Why?” This time, Angela cried more deafeningly. Her Lola caress her back trying to calm her. After sometime, Angela stopped crying. Her Lola gave her a glass of water to calm her. Lola looked at Angela. She noticed that Angela’s face is etched with pain. She’s so pale, her face a picture of no hope, her shoulders down and seems to be out her mind. Her Lola asked Angela again. And finally, Angela began to relate what happened, “L-Lola, they tried to… to kill me… but I promised them not to report to the authorities… so, they set me free… and alive.” Her Lola’s confused with Angela’s story. She asked more questions and Angela made it clearer. The old woman wanted to report to the police what happened but Angela doesn’t want to bring the incident out. She just wanted a silent and peaceful living. Soon, they decided to keep it untold.
It is really good that she has her Lola who comforts her every time she has problems. She’s grateful to the Lord for having her. Every time she remembers the tragic encounter, her LolaApo, you’re thinking about it again… don’t let this be your hindrance in achieving any goal you have, leave it that way. Don’t be stuck with the past, I love you and you will never be alone as I am here.” This is the most inspiring thought of her Lola she’ll never forget. would tell her, “
One morning, she heard murmurs from the sala that woke her up. Lola called her then, “Angela, come… your Mama and Papa have just arrived.” There was excitement in Lola’s voice and so in Angela. This is the best news she ever heard. After hearing that, she jumped from bed and run downstairs. She was so eager to see her parents once more. And she found herself hugging her parents. There were tears — tears of joy, seeing her parents once more. They fill every corner of their home with joy and laughter, which wasn’t so years ago. And once more, smile in Angela’s face is evident, a picture of happiness — longed for, for so long.
Weeks passed. Angela’s parents’ vacation is almost over. They’re so worried of telling this to their daughter because they know she’d cry again. As they’re having breakfast one morning, they have decided to inform Angela about the trip. And as usual, since they arrived, Angela got to the table with a smile on her face for she’s really happy to have them again. But as they began to speak, Angela threw up. She hurriedly went to the kitchen. They were left puzzled and worried about her. Lola grew worried, because she made a conclusion, and so sure that Angela’s having morning sickness — the result of the bad incident. They heard a noise from the kitchen. They found her body lying on the floor. They immediately brought her to the hospital. After some diagnosis the doctor inform them that Angela’s pregnant. They were shocked except for Lola. And they went rushing to her room. They found Angela sitting on bed, hopelessly staring outside the window where she witness a scene of a happy family — a couple with their cute little girl. This is what Angela long most during her childhood that she didn’t experience.
A slap on her face brought her back to the present, she was shocked. She saw her mother looking at her, like a beast ready to eat its prey. She was so confused, she didn’t know what the matter was. “Ma-a.., what is it?”, she asked innocently. “You’re 1 month pregnant according to the doctor,” her father started. “How could this be? Do you already have your boyfriend and had sex with him? Is that what you learned?” She can’t find a word to utter. Yet her tears started to flow. Once again her mother asked her but this time it is more terrifying. “What happened, Angela?!” With this, is another slap on her face. Angela can’t find a word to say. She doesn’t know how to start because of the scene she’d never expected to happen. This time, the mother had convinced her daughter to speak. “Ma,” Angela started but there’s still fear in her. “I am a victim of rape, kept for days by men who used me,” she tearfully said. Her parents were shocked, “I… I tried to escape but I failed. It’s good I was able to convince them to set me free, alive. At first I wanted to be dead, yet I think of all of you whom I shall be leaving, I just wanted to see you once more and be with you.” After hearing her, her Mama and Papa look at each other. Angela’s right. “Yes, I always wanted to be at your side since you left me with Lola,” Angela continued, “I envy the other children before, for they enjoy their childhood life with their mothers and fathers beside them. They love them so much. But me? I long for what they have. It’s good I have Lola who’s always with me and took care of me until now. She’s the only person whom I poured my sentiments with, in all those times..and now you’re leaving me again? Go on! Make your life the best with all you have. I can manage… I did it for years. I can do it… with Lola.” The couple were speechless, knowing Angela’s right. On their way home, his father’s still eager to know who did this to her. “Angela, who did this to you, do you know them?”, her father asked her. “As I have said, it is no more important. What is important now is my baby whom I shall be giving birth and take good care of. I will never make the same mistakes you did… I will love my baby with the best way I can.” Her father was quite hurt of what he heard from Angela. It’s true. They let her live her life alone without them.
Years passed, Angela’s baby’s now a cute little darling like her when she’s just a li’l kid. She’s happy playing with the other children near them, while her Lolo and Lola are so happy watching her. “If only Angela’s here, she’d know the feeling of being a mother of an angel, like Angeline.” It’s Angeline’s Lolo, “Uh! Sure, with this kind of baby she would probably enjoy her life as a parent… if only she didn’t die…” Angeline’s Lola started to cry again after remembering Angela, who died after giving birth with Angeline. “Stop crying. That’s God’s will, we will all end there. What we shall do now is to give Angeline, our apo, the best we can do and never leave her as what we’ve done with Angela,” Lolo ended.
Author: Amy Gunnacao
*Published in True Friends Newsmag (October 2008 issue)Ikaw Ang Aking Buhay
Nang maramdaman ko ang iyong pagpintig,
Napuno ng sigla ang aking daigdig
Ipinangako sa sarili na sa iyo iaalay,
Lahat ng makakaya, kahit ang aking buhay.
Habang ikaw nga ay nasa aking sinapupunan,
Bawat paggalaw mo’y sadyang hinihintay
Kaligayahan ang hatid sa puso’t isipan
Ang ngiti sa labi ko ay hindi napaparam
Ang iyong pagsilang ay pinananabikan
Hindi ko mahintay na ikaw ay mahawakan
At nang makita ka wala akong masambit
Isa kang munting anghel na kaloob ng langit
Dumaloy sa mata ko luha ng kaligayahan
Habang yakap kita sa aking kandungan
Ika’y ligaya ko at inspirasyon sa buhay
Tanging ang maghihiwalay sa atin ay ang kamatayan
Binantayan ko ang iyong paglaki
Wala akong hinangad, kundi iyong ikabubuti
Lahat ng hirap ko at mga pighati
Ay naiibsang lahat, kapag ikaw ay ngumiti
Iniwan nga kita noong ika’y musmos pa
Walang katiyakan kung muling magkikita
Ngunit sa puso ko’y laging andito ka
Hindi ka nawala sa aking alaala
Anak ikaw ang buhay ko at wala ng iba
Lagi kong dalangin na muli kang makasama
Muling maramdaman yakap mo sa twina,
Ang makapiling ka, tunay na ligaya.
Author: Zyrel
*Published in True Friends Newsmag (October 2008 issue)Taiwan... Mei Yo Nama Wan
The last couple of months I lived in Taipei in 1999 was spent on night joy-rides during week-ends. Xiao Shuang and Chiu Lien would sneak me out of the building whenever they come on Friday nights just to spend time with and cheer me up. They live and work in Taichung City, a four-hour drive from Taipei. Xiao Shuang drives a black Nissan Verita, which Shirley — my broker’s fiancee said was too small a car for Shuang’s big size. That little car took us to high places in the mountains where the three of us would sit on its hood for hours just admiring and taking in the breathtaking view of the city at night. When we weren’t high on nature’s beauty, we were caffeine-high from the cuploads of Mc Donald’s brewed coffee we consume in the streets of Taipei. The McDo store near Mitsukoshi (Top View’s awesome!) was one of our hang-outs.
We once parked the car in the middle of a long bridge after midnight and snoozed, only driving off at dawn. We would roam the streets; eat ‘tempura’ (starch-coated meat, fish, vegetables); feast on too sweet ‘ti gua’ (sweet potato) and noodles with eels (hmmm!); and buy knick knacks in the night markets. Lung Shan Shi Temple (a famous ‘miao‘ in Taiwan) was just three blocks from where I lived, its brightness clearly viewed from my window at night. There was a night market nearby. That street’s always too busy, crowded, and noisy. It’s real fun though, so much alive, in deep contrast to Ilan City in the high mountains where I first had a job before coming to Taichung and then finally Taipei.
I worked for six households during those times I was ‘working’ for the agency. I was risking my neck, going along with my broker’s orders. I ran the risk of being deported when found out…but I prayed for it to happen then when my hands were bleeding from dishwashing, when my teeth were chattering from having my feet soaked too long while doing the laundry by hand, when I was hosing up a four-storey school building in winter. I was a modern day slave in Taiwan.
I wasn’t alone. I heard the same suffering voices on the phone when I was on-duty at the agency. I did paperwork, set up meetings for my broker and prospective partners for agency tie-ups in the Philippines — making overseas calls to all the agencies listed in the Council of Labour and Affairs (CLA); and receiving calls from workers placed by the agency who was having trouble at work. That was when I got to hear the others’ stories. There were times I get to see these workers in their worksite when one of the Taiwanese agents brought me so the worker would easily open up to me, being her own kind. Communication between employee and employer or between employee and agent was always the greatest problem encountered. I was there to ease things a little.
Everything changed when my broker kicked me out of Taichung City and sent me to his fiancee’s sister’s family in Taipei. That was after we had a shouting match after he refused to let me terminate the contract and go back home. He wanted me to stay and work for him permanently just like all the other employers I previously worked for who offered to make all things legal if I choose to stay. He sent me to Taipei to think things over after the big fight and after telling me he never will forget the only Filipino who ever dared to shout back at him.
Oh sweet! Things were a lot lighter and easier in Taipei. When he tried to pull me out more than a couple of months later, I asked to have the earliest possible flight back home. He finally relented and I bid my Taiwanese friends goodbye.
Author: Joy Marqueses, TF Newsmag
*Published in True Friends Newsmag (October 2008 issue)
note: above is a re-post from joyzjourney
We once parked the car in the middle of a long bridge after midnight and snoozed, only driving off at dawn. We would roam the streets; eat ‘tempura’ (starch-coated meat, fish, vegetables); feast on too sweet ‘ti gua’ (sweet potato) and noodles with eels (hmmm!); and buy knick knacks in the night markets. Lung Shan Shi Temple (a famous ‘miao‘ in Taiwan) was just three blocks from where I lived, its brightness clearly viewed from my window at night. There was a night market nearby. That street’s always too busy, crowded, and noisy. It’s real fun though, so much alive, in deep contrast to Ilan City in the high mountains where I first had a job before coming to Taichung and then finally Taipei.
I worked for six households during those times I was ‘working’ for the agency. I was risking my neck, going along with my broker’s orders. I ran the risk of being deported when found out…but I prayed for it to happen then when my hands were bleeding from dishwashing, when my teeth were chattering from having my feet soaked too long while doing the laundry by hand, when I was hosing up a four-storey school building in winter. I was a modern day slave in Taiwan.
I wasn’t alone. I heard the same suffering voices on the phone when I was on-duty at the agency. I did paperwork, set up meetings for my broker and prospective partners for agency tie-ups in the Philippines — making overseas calls to all the agencies listed in the Council of Labour and Affairs (CLA); and receiving calls from workers placed by the agency who was having trouble at work. That was when I got to hear the others’ stories. There were times I get to see these workers in their worksite when one of the Taiwanese agents brought me so the worker would easily open up to me, being her own kind. Communication between employee and employer or between employee and agent was always the greatest problem encountered. I was there to ease things a little.
Everything changed when my broker kicked me out of Taichung City and sent me to his fiancee’s sister’s family in Taipei. That was after we had a shouting match after he refused to let me terminate the contract and go back home. He wanted me to stay and work for him permanently just like all the other employers I previously worked for who offered to make all things legal if I choose to stay. He sent me to Taipei to think things over after the big fight and after telling me he never will forget the only Filipino who ever dared to shout back at him.
Oh sweet! Things were a lot lighter and easier in Taipei. When he tried to pull me out more than a couple of months later, I asked to have the earliest possible flight back home. He finally relented and I bid my Taiwanese friends goodbye.
Author: Joy Marqueses, TF Newsmag
*Published in True Friends Newsmag (October 2008 issue)
note: above is a re-post from joyzjourney
Are You Raising A Good Kid?
As our country celebrates October as the National Children’s Month, I can’t help but wonder what future our country holds for our children. The organizers of this annual observance has in mind the noble intention of raising awareness on the welfare of our country’s youth – which has steadily and alarmingly becoming more delinquent according to some NGO’s such as the Catholic Bishops Conference of the Philippines.
This is a serious matter especially sa ating mga OFWs because one key reason they cited as the cause of this problem is due to the large number of OFW-parents being away from their children — thus weakening the values of our youth. Dito sa Hong Kong, pamilyar na sa ating mga manggagawa ang makarinig ng mga masasaklap na k’wento gaya ng ‘di pagtatapos ng pinapag-aral na anak, teen-pregnancies, pagkalulong sa drugs at mga anak na ‘di makuhang magpahalaga sa hirap ng magulang na OFW. Another ominous problem that I see is, sa sobrang subsob natin sa pagkayod para sa kanilang ikabubuhay, we forget to ask ourselves: How big is this social problem? Saan kaya ito hahantong? For now, I don’t think we have immediate and specific answers except to be on guard — each family on its own!
I have few unsolicited tips that may somehow be useful to worried parents out there. I have lived similar uncertainties in the past but was rather fortunate to be able to sustain my eldest to become a practicing medical doctor today and so with my youngest who is graduating in college this year. Allow me to share some of my secrets in sustaining the enthusiasm in their pursuit for premium education.
When my eldest was in her elementary years, I brainwashed her that she would become a doctor when she grew up. I have no stable job at that time but my commitment to that brainwashing turned out to be as strong as hers which means I have to work extra harder para hindi ako mapahiya sa aking anak. Kaya, my advice to our parent-readers is to start early sa pagpa-plano ng career ng kanilang anak because it will not only make them more determined, but this commitment will also give you that extra strength to work harder.
Continuously improve your skills so that your kids will not belittle you when they get more education and become smarter. ‘Pag tawag mo, ‘di ka makakantiyawan ‘pag tungkol sa new gadgets ang nababanggit nila tulad ng mga types of computer games na “in” or mga “hot” topics nila. One way is to upgrade or educate yourself sa computer technology, because you can find almost everything they are crazy about in the internet. That way, you can still give them some sort of advice as to what is best for them, knowing what kind of games and stuff they are up to. This process will not only prepare your children towards a brighter future but will also equip you with the competitive skills when you finally rejoin your family. We should maintain a mas-informed, mas-smart image to our children to keep winning their respect.
Maintain constant but quality communication with your family. Tawag ka nga ng tawag puro away at sermon naman! When I say quality communication, I mean you must feel that your mind and your kids’ mind are one and online on the things I mentioned above. Talk BIG things and they will aspire for greatness.
Of course there are many more but lastly and most importantly, pray a lot! There are thousands of unforeseen events that could derail our dreams for our kids. Our country as a whole is now faced with a disintegrating moral values on a daily basis. Morally offensive materials abound in our local movies, TV shows, newsprints and the Board of Censors seems to be helpless or useless. Our noon-time shows are filled with indecent and sexually-charged contents, and most celebrities are not of help by leading lives that are not conducive to our traditional values, the same could be said to many of our local and national leaders. Consider Malacanang’s recent appointment of Gov. Chavit Singson as Deputy for National Security Adviser. It is common knowledge that Gov. Singson’s political history in Ilocos Sur is marred with violence as he vied for political supremacy against his cousins. His national prominence came about from his role in ousting the then Pres. Joseph Estrada. All peace-loving Filipinos know that his “role” is not borne out of patriotism but rather to protect his own life. And now, the government “rewarded” the Governor from Ilocos Sur, whose history of violence is a common knowledge, to be an adviser for our country’s national security. Unbelievable!
And so to my fellow parent-OFWs, we are faced with a seemingly insurmountable task of not only ensuring that we can afford our children’s tuition fees but must carry on the extra burden of constantly reminding our kids that decency in government exist in other countries and many of our political celebrities should not be their “role-models”. Given these scenarios, the more reason we should be vigilant and resolved to guide our children and let us not surrender “our innocent sheep to the folds of the hungry wolves in our land”.
Author: Tony Bartolome, Editor, True Friends Newsmag
*Published in True Friends Newsmag (October 2008 issue)
Rumors And Gossips... Why It Hurts? How Does It Destroy Friendships?
We face it, people gossip and we enjoy rumors that we are hearing especially when we are bored. Rumor and gossip are slightly different. A “rumor” is unclear information that we heard from unknown source but we have no proof whether that piece of story is true or false. A “gossip” is an idle talk, usually a “private and delicate thing” that people don’t talk openly about but revealed by someone and spread it out from one person to another behind the person’s back. That is gossip. Rumor on the other side is just an occasional story which might be true, partially true –- partially made up, or maybe totally made up but also passed on from one person to another. The receiver usually don’t care if the story is true or not and how it is delivered to another person.
Here, is one example of how rumor changes:
1) Maria: “Hoy Kulasa iyong manok namin nangitlog ng labindalawa, pero nakakapagtaka, kasi iyong anim na itlog parang itlog ng itik. Iniisip ko, baka napagawi ang isa sa alagang itik nang kapitbahay namin na nagkataong doon nangitlog mismo sa “nest” nong manok ko? Di kaya?
2) Kulasa: Hoy Petra alam mo ba yung manok ni Maria nangitlog ng itik, may duda daw siya sa itik nong kapitbayhay niya … sus, pwede palang mangyari yon?
3) Petra: Hoy, Pedro nabalitaan mo ba na iyong manok ni Maria at itik nong kapitbahay nila ay may relasyon pala? Ayun… nangitlog tuloy ng itik iyong manok ni Maria at nangitlog naman ng manok yung itik ng kapitbahay niya!
This may be an exaggerated example, but one piece of story can really change seriously if the listener heard it incorrectly and inadvertently delivered the story with slight changes. Even if these slight changes were made unintentionally, a new version of the story is born and the story becomes more exaggerated as people passed it on. Sometimes, the result….” the new version” maybe hurting to both you (as the victim), and the people close to you. When rumors already spread like virus, it becomes difficult to defend yourself. Some keep quiet, sat on it until rumor dies. For some, they reacted but as they do it, the more they got trapped. It’s like a nail that you hammered deeply into a wood, even if you pull it out again, the hole remains. So whatever you do, once you are the victim, you lose. It’s nice if you have friends around consoling you, but if nobody… just try to console yourself, ha ha ha. What else can you do? Ang mahalaga, you do not harm anybody and you have tried to be friendly with others. Pero sabi nga, you can’t please everybody. Hindi pwede talaga lahat ay matuwa sa iyo! Basta isipin mo na lang, for friends who really loves you, they don’t care about the rumor they heard. Rumour is another thing and the truth on your friendships is a separate matter. How to protect your friendship against rumor? SIMPLE – Be deft against rumor. Whether a rumor is true, false, partially true, decorated, or made up…. ignore it. Measure your closeness with your friends and think of the good old days. All people make mistakes but rumors worsen it. If your friend become a victim of this, ask yourself, do I care for my friend or I care for the carrier of this rumor? If you allow yourself to be influenced by this, you are extending a big favor to the rumor-maker. In short, protect your friend first by not making the “rumor-maker” happy!
Author: Rose Cruto Ho, TF Newsmag
*Published in True Friends Newsmag (October 2008 issue)
Panloloko
Dito sa Hong Kong, karamihan sa atin ay dito nakikilala ang mga kaibigan. Dito na tayo nagkakaroon ng mga new friends, bestfriend or circle of friends. Nagtitiwala na tayo agad-agad sa mga taong nakilala natin. Kasi naman unang araw pa lang nagpapakita na sa atin ng kabaitan. Nililibre ka na niya agad ng lunch or dinner kasi kesyo wala ka pang sahod kasi baguhan ka pa lang. Ikaw naman na bago pa lang akala mo totoo siya sa ginagawa niya at maluwag sa kalooban niya na bigyan ka. Hindi mo alam na hinuhuli lang pala niya ang iyong loob, na oras na mag-tiwala ka sa kanya BINGO na siya sa iyo. Mag sisimula na yan magsasabi ng mga financial problems niya. Hindi masama ang tumulong pero dapat may limit tayo, kasi naman may kapwa tayo OFW diyan na sa tagal ng pamamasukan niya wala pa ring ipon, puro utang na lang. Pag hindi pa nag-kasya ang inuutang, aba pati mga bagong salta na kababayan bibiktimahin. Mag-mamakaawa na i-pangutang sila sa bangko kahit konti lang, sila daw ang bahala sa monthly fee pero huwag ka, hanggang umpisa lang yan, pag naka dalawang hulog na iyan mag-tatago na at hindi mo na mahahagilap. Pag tinakot mo naman sila pa ang nag-mamalaki. Sila na ang tinulungan sila pa ang may ganang magalit.
Sa mga kababayan natin na bagong dating lang. Hindi masama ang makipag-kaibigan pero dapat maging mautak ka rin hindi iyong ikaw ang uutakan. Kayo naman diyan na nang-raraket ng mga kapwa, makonsensya naman kayo. Pare-pareho tayo na naghihirap sa pag-tatrabaho; pare-pareho tayong dayuhan dito dapat tayo ‘yung nag-kakaisa, nag- tutulungan at nag-mamalasakitan sa isa’t-isa. Masaya ka ba sa ginagawa mo na panloloko sa kapwa mo? Nakakatulog ka pa ba sa masamang gawain mo? Nagka-pera ka nga pero galing naman sa masamang paraan. Kaibigan ito ang iyong tandaan, ang pera na hindi mo pinaghirapan wala iyang patutunguhan, hindi gaya ng pera na pinagsikapan mo, galing sa hirap at pawis mo malayo ang mararating mo kabayan.
Ang mga iba naman diyan na mautak din, nag-papautang pero grabe naman ang taas ng mga interest talo pa ang bangko dito.Tutulong ka nga ‘di mo pa lubusang tulungan ang ating kaibigan. Business nga lang naman walang masama pero hindi mo ba iniisip na sa halip na makatulong ka lalo mo pang pinabagsak ‘yung pinautang mo dahil sa taas mong magpatong. Nag-hihirap na nga ‘yung umuutang sa’yo, mas lalo mo pang pinahirapan. Ang kayamanan natin dito sa ibabaw ng mundo ay hindi natin ‘yan madadala sa kabilang buhay.
Whoever puts God first in his life will be the first in His kingdom but whoever puts God last in his life will be the last in God's kingdom. Thank you sa lahat ng mga readers na nag-send ng comments, sama-sama uli tayo next month sa November issue.
Author: Ed Roquel, True Friends Newsmag
*Published in True Friends Newsmag (October 2008 issue)
Connections
"Blood is thicker than water", an old cliche na masyado ng gasgas, so to speak, but will always hold true among every family. A few days ago, I posted on public what to me can be considered a very private journal entry. It was written few years back for my father. For some reason, I just felt like posting it and so I did without giving it much thought. I bared my heart and soul in that piece and it did evoke different comments and views from friends and loved ones alike. All of them were taken in good spirit, he he!
My dad has been an OFW for as long as I can remember. When I was young and I think of him, all I can see is a plane taking off or the jewelries I will be receiving in a few more months. Everything was superficial back then. Suki na sya ng mga airlines bound to Saudi Arabia. That was the second country I remember I was able to write when I was in Kinder, after learning to write Philippines syempre. Then I grew up with my Lola and Lolo who think the world of me (spoiled brat? nah! I'm not).
Needless to say, being an OFW is never and I guess will never be an easy job, either for those who will be working overseas and to the families they will be leaving behind. Our local church pastor is even vocal in saying those jobs post a big threat on our family as a unit. You never see your children grow and so you end up not knowing them at all, some marital responsibility will be overlooked and so the risk on being cheated is on and will highly be there, the physical and emotional distance he said will test every part of the family and if you're not strong enough...you might lose it.
Is it worth it?" I once asked my dad. Then he would say, "May choice ba tayo?" and I'd fell silent. Oo nga naman, our country is rich with talented and brilliant people but it's the resources or the opportunity of a good job that we are lacking. As a result, some people pack their things and with eyes half-closed they go to a different land and seek a "greener pasture" like what my dad did. Not because he wanted to but more because he needed to. On our end naman, we tried to have our presence felt by him. Snail mail pa lang ang uso noon and of course a few calls every once in a while. Maybe that developed my love for writing, and the burning desire for PLDT to install a phone in our house had influenced me, too, in a way, so ngayon Call Center agent ako, ha! ha!
Physical distance from your family, especially your kids, can be a good faith-testing-exercise. Your strength and patience being developed whenever there's a bad news about the country lalo na pag sa pamilya, nakakaloka talaga! But like what dad once said, "We don't have much choice, daughter". Because there are people who rely and depend on us and we love them too much to let them down. So the new label for OFW "Bagong Bayani" fits them well. Hopefully, more than just the label, there will also be added benefits for the unsung heroes.
My dad was not an exclusion in those pain and so am I, being his child. His constantly being away and the diminishing communication with him made the love somehow withered and insecurity slowly crawled in. Communication, just like in any relationship, be it short, medium or long distance is very important like water to plants, oxygen to humans, fertilizer to soil. We just can't live without it. Buti nga ngayon there are so many ways to communicate. There's internet that allows you to even see the person on your screen, cellphones to call and 'text' to the point that our thumb gets stiff, and snail mail of course (I find it sweeter pa nga to receive one). There are so many medium now to communicate to somehow lessen the pain of missing one another.
Two days after posting that painful journal entry out of the chest I received a call from my stepmom, telling me my dad is in the hospital and in not so good of a condition. Without doubts and hesitation I went to see him. He look pleased in seeing me though he was in the ICU. He opened his eyes three times to look and smiled at me. I stayed with him everyday at the hospital and realized how fragile life is. I could have lost him without telling him I love him. Well, that will be water under the bridge now.
I wonder why did I post that online journal? Is it because I've been thinking about my dad lately and pains me to realize how did we end up to? Or is it because he's been thinking about me too or could it be because he was in the hospital at that time? And just what a coincidence, after posting it we finally have both the courage to face the ugly truth that we lost each other somewhere along the tracks? But that's okay, we learn from our mistakes. No matter how painful it is, it's still a lesson well learned.
"Relationships, not achievements or the acquisition of things, are what matters most in life". In my experience, I allowed too much pain and insecurity along with self pity to see beyond my father's motives in working abroad. It was hard for me but must be hell for him too! In my deepest understanding of what a family is, I came to realize that no matter what you've been through, where you've been at and how different you seem to be, connection will always be there in different forms and different meanings. For almost every bad fall or bad thing that happens to us, our family will always be the last to leave us. After all, as an old cliche says, "Blood is thicker than water".
Author: Crizel De Leon
*Published in True Friends Newsmag (September 2008 issue)
My dad has been an OFW for as long as I can remember. When I was young and I think of him, all I can see is a plane taking off or the jewelries I will be receiving in a few more months. Everything was superficial back then. Suki na sya ng mga airlines bound to Saudi Arabia. That was the second country I remember I was able to write when I was in Kinder, after learning to write Philippines syempre. Then I grew up with my Lola and Lolo who think the world of me (spoiled brat? nah! I'm not).
Needless to say, being an OFW is never and I guess will never be an easy job, either for those who will be working overseas and to the families they will be leaving behind. Our local church pastor is even vocal in saying those jobs post a big threat on our family as a unit. You never see your children grow and so you end up not knowing them at all, some marital responsibility will be overlooked and so the risk on being cheated is on and will highly be there, the physical and emotional distance he said will test every part of the family and if you're not strong enough...you might lose it.
Is it worth it?" I once asked my dad. Then he would say, "May choice ba tayo?" and I'd fell silent. Oo nga naman, our country is rich with talented and brilliant people but it's the resources or the opportunity of a good job that we are lacking. As a result, some people pack their things and with eyes half-closed they go to a different land and seek a "greener pasture" like what my dad did. Not because he wanted to but more because he needed to. On our end naman, we tried to have our presence felt by him. Snail mail pa lang ang uso noon and of course a few calls every once in a while. Maybe that developed my love for writing, and the burning desire for PLDT to install a phone in our house had influenced me, too, in a way, so ngayon Call Center agent ako, ha! ha!
Physical distance from your family, especially your kids, can be a good faith-testing-exercise. Your strength and patience being developed whenever there's a bad news about the country lalo na pag sa pamilya, nakakaloka talaga! But like what dad once said, "We don't have much choice, daughter". Because there are people who rely and depend on us and we love them too much to let them down. So the new label for OFW "Bagong Bayani" fits them well. Hopefully, more than just the label, there will also be added benefits for the unsung heroes.
My dad was not an exclusion in those pain and so am I, being his child. His constantly being away and the diminishing communication with him made the love somehow withered and insecurity slowly crawled in. Communication, just like in any relationship, be it short, medium or long distance is very important like water to plants, oxygen to humans, fertilizer to soil. We just can't live without it. Buti nga ngayon there are so many ways to communicate. There's internet that allows you to even see the person on your screen, cellphones to call and 'text' to the point that our thumb gets stiff, and snail mail of course (I find it sweeter pa nga to receive one). There are so many medium now to communicate to somehow lessen the pain of missing one another.
Two days after posting that painful journal entry out of the chest I received a call from my stepmom, telling me my dad is in the hospital and in not so good of a condition. Without doubts and hesitation I went to see him. He look pleased in seeing me though he was in the ICU. He opened his eyes three times to look and smiled at me. I stayed with him everyday at the hospital and realized how fragile life is. I could have lost him without telling him I love him. Well, that will be water under the bridge now.
I wonder why did I post that online journal? Is it because I've been thinking about my dad lately and pains me to realize how did we end up to? Or is it because he's been thinking about me too or could it be because he was in the hospital at that time? And just what a coincidence, after posting it we finally have both the courage to face the ugly truth that we lost each other somewhere along the tracks? But that's okay, we learn from our mistakes. No matter how painful it is, it's still a lesson well learned.
"Relationships, not achievements or the acquisition of things, are what matters most in life". In my experience, I allowed too much pain and insecurity along with self pity to see beyond my father's motives in working abroad. It was hard for me but must be hell for him too! In my deepest understanding of what a family is, I came to realize that no matter what you've been through, where you've been at and how different you seem to be, connection will always be there in different forms and different meanings. For almost every bad fall or bad thing that happens to us, our family will always be the last to leave us. After all, as an old cliche says, "Blood is thicker than water".
Author: Crizel De Leon
*Published in True Friends Newsmag (September 2008 issue)
13 December 2008
Legacy Of Hope
”Choices people make and circumstances in life sometimes conspire to teach us lessons, direct our steps even in the most difficult ways.”
My story begins in 1970, the year I was born. My parents were married not out of romantic love but parental arrangement. To say that my childhood was not-so-happy is an understatement. Tragedies of misfortune abound. For one, four successive newborn siblings died with no found reasons. Second, I’m a girl — the first born. In their belief to cut a curse, I was given to my mother’s married barren brother. My stay with them, however, was short, his wife preferred a child from her family line for permanent adoption. So my paternal grandparents had me instead. I was six when a healthy, handsome baby brother came, the sole pride and joy of my parents.
I grew up in a small village of less than 200 people. Seasonal farming was the main source of income. Daily consumption includes gathering wild ferns, turnips, mushrooms in the woods; shells, fish and frogs from nearby creeks. Additional recreations were chasing chickens and hunting spiders. Most of the time, I felt, looked, acted, and smelt like a ranger. I was a loner, madalas umuuwing luhaan kapag nangangapit-bahay. There’s nobody I can play with. Kids just ignored me, teased me at lagi wala din kakampi. From home, school was a 59-minute walk through the rice fields, I wasn’t discouraged. My grandparents inspired me with hopes and dreams that someday I will enjoy a better life, ride a bus in the city instead of kariton, watch real life movie not just old folk tales from a transistor radio, and live one day in a house that could shade me from moonlight and raindrops. They taught me how to live with nature, enjoy abundance in simplicity but also to dream big. With them I was the happiest kid. They were my greatest source of love, comfort and encouragement but I lost them both when I was 10. Sabay ibinurol, sabay din inilibing (grandma died of a disease, grandpa of cardiac arrest, 2 days later). That was the saddest point of my life. Grieving tears flooded me with emotions, it dampened not only my face but my soul for many days, months and years after. I attended secondary at age 12, living independently at the school’s dormitory. Money was tight, it’s not even enough for daily necessities and projects. School breaks meant not rest but a time for me to help in the farm, pasture animals, do household chores or babysit my brother. With no comfort or luxury, I persevered. I poured out efforts capitalizing on my pains, hopes, and longings maintaining grades as an honor student, consistently. Every March, school’s annual recognition day was considered a reward-giving-new-things day for me as substitute of the usual-relatives-hands-me-down stuffs of Christmas.
I studied college but my parents can’t continue to support me so I stopped. Frustrated, bored and helpless, I went to Manila. With some luck, I was employed in a garment export company. Under 18 I’ve been working since then. As a young adult trying to find a place in the world, I have lots of questions in mind. Early memories of fear, rejection and despair reminded me of the missing pieces of life… fine things, home, and the love of family. I have been told more than once that I was born jinx (unlucky). Though I wanted to believe that they were wrong, I carried a secret fear that perhaps they were right. I continued sacrificing things of youth in order to be matured, self-sufficient, and responsible. I landed in Hong Kong in 1991. I brought with me a great dream and a great responsibility. Out of kindness and obedience I freely share my blessings to my family. With hope things will improve and my brother will not be deprived of privileges and experience the hardships I’ve been through, I was dismayed to find generosity and sacrifice have no value for him. He married young, twice, with degree unfinished.
I decided to go home in 2001. For 5 years I was blessed with a wonderful husband and 2 great kids. Blissful to my hope, my relationship with my parents improved. We talked, worked out things that matter most in life.They acknowledged my hardships and sacrifices as well as their mistakes and shortcomings. Slowly, I began to retake my rightful place as their daughter and gained more respect, trust and love that I so long deserved. Together for 40 years, I’m sure that between my parents, love is shared and still lives. Same time, I saw what my brother’s life has become. His days revolved in alcohol, violence and other irresponsible acts. His wife left to work overseas, with no reforms, she didn’t come back. She found a better man, taking with her their daughter. Abandoned and depressed, drinking gave my brother refuge to grieve and his grieving gave him refuge to drink, the perfect cycle of doom. He was lost, on and off a psychiatric patient. It wrenched my heart seeing him and my parents tormented as he suffers. Sometimes I wonder how could someone who grew up lavishly with love, comfort and freedom could end up miserable and broken. He, who was unconditionally sheltered and nurtured chose rebellion and defeats.
In life, I lived and learned the hard way but somehow I managed to grow, I struggled yet victorious in the process. Looking back, I have losses and gains, sorrows and joys and found life’s worth overcoming most of my fears. For many years, I’ve been sharing hope, faith and friendship through community service. I became a worker of God’s vineyard, an advocate of fellow OFW’s, a founding leader of small organization, a marketing director in financial service (side career). And still, I continue to equip myself with skills, to explore other possibilities. I discovered too many beautiful places not just riding a city bus but planes. For entertainment, sure I’m enjoying more than a good movie and I now have a better home to stay… as my grandparents hoped for me. Good choices and hard works deserve corresponding rewards. I’m a believer. Failures, I have many, and also simple accomplishments that fulfill. I say “I’m full of blessings”, not curses. I thank God for helping me rise through life’s difficult challenges, for giving me wisdom learning to traverse those valleys of wrong and right choices, for blessing me with grace to accept and forgive rather than holding grudges, trying to change people nor expecting something in return. I thank God for providing me helps; opportunities and chances, wonderful friends and mentors that blessed my path at times I’ve no place and no one to turn to. Above all, in memory of my loving grandparents to whom I’m indebted and forever grateful, I honor them for what I have become, for their pride and confidence in me, for installing in me hopes that carry me all through. For now I don’t have a vast fortune nor high prestige to pass on as legacy but I do have a lasting gift of hope that continuously flicker. Faith to hold, courage to empower, enduring sacrifice with love deeply sown to keep it nourished, my parents and brother, my husband and children fit into my journey of hope. They are, so far, my great living motivators.
Author: Annabelle Libao
*Published in True Friends Newsmag (October 2008 issue)
My story begins in 1970, the year I was born. My parents were married not out of romantic love but parental arrangement. To say that my childhood was not-so-happy is an understatement. Tragedies of misfortune abound. For one, four successive newborn siblings died with no found reasons. Second, I’m a girl — the first born. In their belief to cut a curse, I was given to my mother’s married barren brother. My stay with them, however, was short, his wife preferred a child from her family line for permanent adoption. So my paternal grandparents had me instead. I was six when a healthy, handsome baby brother came, the sole pride and joy of my parents.
I grew up in a small village of less than 200 people. Seasonal farming was the main source of income. Daily consumption includes gathering wild ferns, turnips, mushrooms in the woods; shells, fish and frogs from nearby creeks. Additional recreations were chasing chickens and hunting spiders. Most of the time, I felt, looked, acted, and smelt like a ranger. I was a loner, madalas umuuwing luhaan kapag nangangapit-bahay. There’s nobody I can play with. Kids just ignored me, teased me at lagi wala din kakampi. From home, school was a 59-minute walk through the rice fields, I wasn’t discouraged. My grandparents inspired me with hopes and dreams that someday I will enjoy a better life, ride a bus in the city instead of kariton, watch real life movie not just old folk tales from a transistor radio, and live one day in a house that could shade me from moonlight and raindrops. They taught me how to live with nature, enjoy abundance in simplicity but also to dream big. With them I was the happiest kid. They were my greatest source of love, comfort and encouragement but I lost them both when I was 10. Sabay ibinurol, sabay din inilibing (grandma died of a disease, grandpa of cardiac arrest, 2 days later). That was the saddest point of my life. Grieving tears flooded me with emotions, it dampened not only my face but my soul for many days, months and years after. I attended secondary at age 12, living independently at the school’s dormitory. Money was tight, it’s not even enough for daily necessities and projects. School breaks meant not rest but a time for me to help in the farm, pasture animals, do household chores or babysit my brother. With no comfort or luxury, I persevered. I poured out efforts capitalizing on my pains, hopes, and longings maintaining grades as an honor student, consistently. Every March, school’s annual recognition day was considered a reward-giving-new-things day for me as substitute of the usual-relatives-hands-me-down stuffs of Christmas.
I studied college but my parents can’t continue to support me so I stopped. Frustrated, bored and helpless, I went to Manila. With some luck, I was employed in a garment export company. Under 18 I’ve been working since then. As a young adult trying to find a place in the world, I have lots of questions in mind. Early memories of fear, rejection and despair reminded me of the missing pieces of life… fine things, home, and the love of family. I have been told more than once that I was born jinx (unlucky). Though I wanted to believe that they were wrong, I carried a secret fear that perhaps they were right. I continued sacrificing things of youth in order to be matured, self-sufficient, and responsible. I landed in Hong Kong in 1991. I brought with me a great dream and a great responsibility. Out of kindness and obedience I freely share my blessings to my family. With hope things will improve and my brother will not be deprived of privileges and experience the hardships I’ve been through, I was dismayed to find generosity and sacrifice have no value for him. He married young, twice, with degree unfinished.
I decided to go home in 2001. For 5 years I was blessed with a wonderful husband and 2 great kids. Blissful to my hope, my relationship with my parents improved. We talked, worked out things that matter most in life.They acknowledged my hardships and sacrifices as well as their mistakes and shortcomings. Slowly, I began to retake my rightful place as their daughter and gained more respect, trust and love that I so long deserved. Together for 40 years, I’m sure that between my parents, love is shared and still lives. Same time, I saw what my brother’s life has become. His days revolved in alcohol, violence and other irresponsible acts. His wife left to work overseas, with no reforms, she didn’t come back. She found a better man, taking with her their daughter. Abandoned and depressed, drinking gave my brother refuge to grieve and his grieving gave him refuge to drink, the perfect cycle of doom. He was lost, on and off a psychiatric patient. It wrenched my heart seeing him and my parents tormented as he suffers. Sometimes I wonder how could someone who grew up lavishly with love, comfort and freedom could end up miserable and broken. He, who was unconditionally sheltered and nurtured chose rebellion and defeats.
In life, I lived and learned the hard way but somehow I managed to grow, I struggled yet victorious in the process. Looking back, I have losses and gains, sorrows and joys and found life’s worth overcoming most of my fears. For many years, I’ve been sharing hope, faith and friendship through community service. I became a worker of God’s vineyard, an advocate of fellow OFW’s, a founding leader of small organization, a marketing director in financial service (side career). And still, I continue to equip myself with skills, to explore other possibilities. I discovered too many beautiful places not just riding a city bus but planes. For entertainment, sure I’m enjoying more than a good movie and I now have a better home to stay… as my grandparents hoped for me. Good choices and hard works deserve corresponding rewards. I’m a believer. Failures, I have many, and also simple accomplishments that fulfill. I say “I’m full of blessings”, not curses. I thank God for helping me rise through life’s difficult challenges, for giving me wisdom learning to traverse those valleys of wrong and right choices, for blessing me with grace to accept and forgive rather than holding grudges, trying to change people nor expecting something in return. I thank God for providing me helps; opportunities and chances, wonderful friends and mentors that blessed my path at times I’ve no place and no one to turn to. Above all, in memory of my loving grandparents to whom I’m indebted and forever grateful, I honor them for what I have become, for their pride and confidence in me, for installing in me hopes that carry me all through. For now I don’t have a vast fortune nor high prestige to pass on as legacy but I do have a lasting gift of hope that continuously flicker. Faith to hold, courage to empower, enduring sacrifice with love deeply sown to keep it nourished, my parents and brother, my husband and children fit into my journey of hope. They are, so far, my great living motivators.
Author: Annabelle Libao
*Published in True Friends Newsmag (October 2008 issue)
Si Pango At Si Pangit
“Ano na naman ba iniiyak-iyak mo dyan, pangit? Kung tutuusin mani-mani (peanuts!) na lang yang ganyang problema sa ‘yo,” sabi ng abest buddy kong si Jayz. “Tumigil ka na’t lalo kang pumapangit pag umiiyak ka,” dagdag ng kumag. Aminin ko ba naman kasi na broken-hearted ako, hayun, sermon at pang-aapi tuloy inabot ko. Sinisi ko nga sya, “Ikaw kasi, kahirap ng matawagan, out of reach palagi, kaya noong may dumating sa buhay ko na walang kwentang kausap na kagaya mo, hayun, nahulog tuloy loob ko sa loko at ngayon out-of-my-life na sya!” (sabay singhot…) Tinawanan ba naman ako ng Jayz. Dagdag ko, “Ganyan! ‘ala ka talaga kwentang pinsan at kaibigan. Sa halip na samahan mo ko sa pag-iyak, ini-engganyo mo pa akong tumawa. ‘ala ka talaga kwenta!” Sagot nya pagkarinig sa tono ng boses ko, “oh, ano tinatawa-tawa mo dyan ngayon? Akala ko ba umiiyak ka kanina?” Sus! Makakilala ka ba naman ng mas baliw pa sa ‘yo?! Kadugo ko nga ‘tong kenkoy na ‘to.
Ganyan lang naman ang takbo ng usapan namin ng kung sino mang nilalang na nakakakilala na sa good-crazy-bad sides ng pagkatao ko. Katulad na lang ng isang Mr B na abot hanggang langit ang respeto ko, kapag na-sense sa email o text message ko na tinutopak ako, sasabihin nyan, “Depressed ka na naman, ano? Hah hah hah, ha!” Kantahan ka ba naman ng halakhak, hai ya! Hindi kailangan ng maraming salita o kaek-ekan na pangungumbinsi na wag na ‘ko mag-emote, just tickle my funny bone at ayos na ayos na ‘ko. At hindi rin kailangan ng maraming salita para malaman ng tunay na kaibigan na wala ka sa “katinuan” (bad-crazy;) –malimit akong atakihin nyan, nya ha ha! Malungkot at masaya ka man, mararamdaman ng kausap mo sa kabilang linya ng telepono, o sa tono ng sulat mo, ‘dinig’ ka, ‘day. Itong klase ng mga nilalang ang bumabalanse sa katinuan ng pag-iisip ko… Hindi ka nga nila dadamayan sa pagluha (”umiyak kang mag-isa, pangit,” sabihin pa sa ‘yo), pakakabagin ka naman sa pagtawa at pagagaanin ang pakiramdam mo sa pang-aasar hanggang sa mawala na sa isip mo ang iyong kadramahan.
Kamakailan lang, sabi ko sa mahal kong dakilang kaibigan, “Thanks for letting me get away with my craziness.” Laking biyaya talaga sya sa mundo ko. Mangilan-ngilan lang ang mga taong marunong ‘bumasa’ sa ‘yo. Sa kanila, di ka matatakot magtanggal ng maskara at nakakasiguro ka na di ka nila tatalikuran malaman man nila ang tunay na ikaw — kung gaano ka masaktan, lumaban, magsaya, humilik, magalit, humagalpak sa tawa, magmura, kumanta ng wala sa tono, maglupasay sa iyak at inis, maglaro… Sa harap nila, tunay na tunay ka — perpektong halimbawa ng napaka-imperpektong pagkatao– taong-tao. Sa kabila ng lahat ng ka-imperpektuhan at kakulangan mo, andyan lang sila sa tabi mo palagi. Hindi man kayo magkita at mag-usap ng madalas, panatag ang loob mo dahil alam mo at nakakasiguro ka na may nagmamahal sa ‘yo at nagtitiwala sa kakayahan mo… na sakyan ang anumang alon na sasalpok sa yo… Ikaw ‘yong surfboard, sila ‘yong malakas na hangin na mag-iihip sa ‘yo sa dalampasigan (sus! sa seashore na tayo ngayon!). Teka, balik tayo sa alon, dapat pagitna sa laot papuntang kabilang ibayo, hindi pabalik sa pinanggalingan. Ano pa man, ang mga kaibigan na ‘to ang nagsisilbing hangin at driving force na magtutulak sa ‘yo para makatawid ka sa destinasyon mo. Ikaw na ‘yong barko, hindi na surfboard, noh!
Ganyan ang malaking silbi at importansya ng best buddies ko kaya kahit tawagin man nila akong ‘pangit’ at ’sira’ palagi, at peace ako dahil ang alam ko… ako lang ang supercute sa life nila. Ayaw lang nila aminin baka lumaki ang ulo ko’t ipagmayabang ko, hek hek hek! Alaskahin man ako ni Jayz, ok lang din kasi alam namin pareho na mas pango ilong nya kesa sa ‘kin.
Author: Joy Marqueses
*Published in TF Newsmag (September 2008 issue)
Ganyan lang naman ang takbo ng usapan namin ng kung sino mang nilalang na nakakakilala na sa good-crazy-bad sides ng pagkatao ko. Katulad na lang ng isang Mr B na abot hanggang langit ang respeto ko, kapag na-sense sa email o text message ko na tinutopak ako, sasabihin nyan, “Depressed ka na naman, ano? Hah hah hah, ha!” Kantahan ka ba naman ng halakhak, hai ya! Hindi kailangan ng maraming salita o kaek-ekan na pangungumbinsi na wag na ‘ko mag-emote, just tickle my funny bone at ayos na ayos na ‘ko. At hindi rin kailangan ng maraming salita para malaman ng tunay na kaibigan na wala ka sa “katinuan” (bad-crazy;) –malimit akong atakihin nyan, nya ha ha! Malungkot at masaya ka man, mararamdaman ng kausap mo sa kabilang linya ng telepono, o sa tono ng sulat mo, ‘dinig’ ka, ‘day. Itong klase ng mga nilalang ang bumabalanse sa katinuan ng pag-iisip ko… Hindi ka nga nila dadamayan sa pagluha (”umiyak kang mag-isa, pangit,” sabihin pa sa ‘yo), pakakabagin ka naman sa pagtawa at pagagaanin ang pakiramdam mo sa pang-aasar hanggang sa mawala na sa isip mo ang iyong kadramahan.
Kamakailan lang, sabi ko sa mahal kong dakilang kaibigan, “Thanks for letting me get away with my craziness.” Laking biyaya talaga sya sa mundo ko. Mangilan-ngilan lang ang mga taong marunong ‘bumasa’ sa ‘yo. Sa kanila, di ka matatakot magtanggal ng maskara at nakakasiguro ka na di ka nila tatalikuran malaman man nila ang tunay na ikaw — kung gaano ka masaktan, lumaban, magsaya, humilik, magalit, humagalpak sa tawa, magmura, kumanta ng wala sa tono, maglupasay sa iyak at inis, maglaro… Sa harap nila, tunay na tunay ka — perpektong halimbawa ng napaka-imperpektong pagkatao– taong-tao. Sa kabila ng lahat ng ka-imperpektuhan at kakulangan mo, andyan lang sila sa tabi mo palagi. Hindi man kayo magkita at mag-usap ng madalas, panatag ang loob mo dahil alam mo at nakakasiguro ka na may nagmamahal sa ‘yo at nagtitiwala sa kakayahan mo… na sakyan ang anumang alon na sasalpok sa yo… Ikaw ‘yong surfboard, sila ‘yong malakas na hangin na mag-iihip sa ‘yo sa dalampasigan (sus! sa seashore na tayo ngayon!). Teka, balik tayo sa alon, dapat pagitna sa laot papuntang kabilang ibayo, hindi pabalik sa pinanggalingan. Ano pa man, ang mga kaibigan na ‘to ang nagsisilbing hangin at driving force na magtutulak sa ‘yo para makatawid ka sa destinasyon mo. Ikaw na ‘yong barko, hindi na surfboard, noh!
Ganyan ang malaking silbi at importansya ng best buddies ko kaya kahit tawagin man nila akong ‘pangit’ at ’sira’ palagi, at peace ako dahil ang alam ko… ako lang ang supercute sa life nila. Ayaw lang nila aminin baka lumaki ang ulo ko’t ipagmayabang ko, hek hek hek! Alaskahin man ako ni Jayz, ok lang din kasi alam namin pareho na mas pango ilong nya kesa sa ‘kin.
Author: Joy Marqueses
*Published in TF Newsmag (September 2008 issue)
Best of Bests
“Ganda, halika huhulaan kita!”, ang sabi ng isang nakasalubong ko habang ako ay naglalakad sa Robinson’s Galleria at nag-wiwindow shopping. Ang kanyang mukha ay tila alanganing babae at lalake. Ang kanyang pangangatawan naman at pati na ang mga bisig ay hitsurang lalake. Feminine siyang kumilos, in fact, medyo pakendeng-kendeng pa nga siyang maglakad. Malantik ang kanyang artipisyal na pilik-mata na obvious na idinugtong lang. Dahil ang kanyang ilong ay matangos, ito ay nakapagpadagdag ng animo’y tunay na anyong babaeng sa kanyang makutim na kulay ng mukha. Halata ang mga wrinkles niya. Ang kanyang edad kung iyong susuriin ay mga 48 pataas. Ang kanyang mga daliring medyo matigas na malantik ay may manicure na kulay pula. Makikita mong medyo burado na ang kyutiks ng mga ilan dito. Makapal ang kanyang eye-liner at eyebrows. May lipstick siya na higit na mapula kaysa karaniwan. Sunog sa araw ang kulay ng balat. Nakasuot siya ng sandals na pambabae at pantalong kulay lumot na tila uniporme ng army; pink ang kanyang t-shirt na may kwelyo; “lacoste” ang tatak nito - ‘yung tipong imitation na “lacoste”.
“Halika na, mura lang,” masuyong anyaya niya.” Marahil ay mas na-enganyo ako sa katangi-tanging hitsura ng nilalang na nasa aking harapan. Para sa akin ay may isa siyang kakatwang katangian. Isang binalake. Kakaiba ngunit may kayumian ang kanyang hitsura hindi kagaya ng mga ibang matataray na baklita. Bihira akong may makausap na ganitong anyo. Kung titingnan mo siyang mabuti ay mapapansin mong hindi siya isang manlolokong tao, nais lang na matulungan ka niya kung ano man ang gusto mong malaman. Kung baga, wala siyang pangingimi at walang halong panlililo. Nababasa kaya niya ang nasasaloob ko ngayo? Alam kaya niya ang aking dinaramdam?” Ito’y isang palaisipan sa akin. Tapat ang kanyang pag-anyaya. Para tuloy akong naging curious, gusto kong subukan kung paano siya manghula.
“Sige, magkano?” Tanong ko. “Mura lang”, sagot niya. Sa totoo lang ayaw kong masyadong magpaimpluwensya sa hula. Naalala ko noong panahon ng aking kabataan, kasama ko ang mga katandaan at halos malibot na naming lahat ng mga magagaling at balitang manghuhula sa kapuluan. Kaya hayun, minsan may mga natutuklasang mga nakakatawa na kagaya ng ang anak niyang ampon ay anak daw ng kanyang Mister sa ibang babae. At ang isa naman ay hindi daw ‘yung boyfriend niya sa kasalukuyan ang makakatuluyan kundi iba…siya nga namang nangyari. Bagama’t para sa akin naman ay gusto ko lang magbakasakali, parang katuwaan lang. ‘Di pa naman ako nabibigo nung mga panahon na ‘yun, at kung may mga manliligaw man, hindi ko pa naman sila pinag-uukulan ng pansin… kaya lang ako sumasama sa kanila ay upang malaman ko ang aking kapalaran tungkol sa aking pangarap na makapag-abroad. Positive naman kung tutuusin ang mga basa sa palad at baraha. Maganda lahat, tungo lahat iyon sa pag-unlad. Ngunit nang ako ay napaanib sa isang relihiyon na kahit ang paglalaro ng baraha ay hindi tinatanggap, pinilit ko ng umiwas sa mga ganito, gaano man kabisa at katotoo ang kanilang mga hula. Mayroon pa nga akong iniwasan na Psychic, na close friend ng aking mga relatives, subalit bukod tanging ako lang ang hindi nagbigay ng pagkakataon upang matingnan ako.Ngunit, ngayon gusto kong subukan ito just for fun. Isa pa malungkot ako ngayon. Para ba akong naging excited sa sasabihin niya.
Iginiya niya ako patungo sa isang simpleng restawran na tipong style ng Mc Donald’s. Habang nakasunod ako sa kanya alam kong siya ay naghahanap ng isang maayos na puwestong walang masyadong tao. Halatang siya ay madalas gumawi dito. Umupo kami sa may bandang sulok. Nagpalinga-linga ako sa paligid. May mga tao ring mangilan-ngilan na kumakain sa loob. Na tila wala naman ding pakialam dahil may kanya-kanya ring pinagkakaabalahan. Ang iba naman ay nagkwekwentuhan lang. May ibang nagpupukol ng tingin sa amin, pero wala lang. Ilang sandali ang makalipas pagkaraan naming makaupo ay inilabas niya ang isang salansan ng baraha. “Binalasa sa tatlo. “Bumunot ka ng tatlo.Kahit saan.” “Naku, yayaman ka!” ang sabi nya pagkakita niya sa diamond na pula. At pagkaraang ilapag ang pusong pula, “Tapat kang magmahal.” At pagkaraan pa ng isa ay: “Masama kang magalit,” bulalas na sabi niya. Ouch! Pagkaraan nito ay isa-isa niyang inihelera ang mga baraha. “Alam mo napakabuti mong kaibigan. Mapagbigay ka. Tumutulong ka sa nangangailangan. Hindi mo matitiis basta’t may lumapit at humingi ng tulong sa iyo. Kapag iniisip mo nagkakatutuo. Pero masama kang magalit, ganda. Iwasan mo yan. Kasi kapag nagalit ka may masamang nangyayari sa tao. Totoo ka kasing tao at napakabuti mong kaibigan. Kaya iwasan mong magalit, ganda ha?” Binalasa na naman niya, “Kuha ka uli ng tatlo….naku hayan, masama ka talagang magalit!” “Pero may nagmamahal sa iyong lapitin ng babae. Nakikinig naman siya sa iyo. Basta’t sinabi mo ginagawa naman niya. Kamuntik na tuloy akong maiyak sa sinabi niya. Dahil ilang araw na akong nagmumukmok dahil sa sama ng loob. Nag-away kami. Love-hate friendship namin ng best of bests ko. Close kasi kami. As far as I know, super special din ako sa kanya the way he treats me….and we treat each other that way. Extra-ordinary and especial nga actually… Whatever. Nakakatuwa nga…close na close kami, pero para kaming aso’t-pusa. “O malapit na tayong matapos,” aniya.
“P’wede ba akong magtanong,” ang sabi ko. “Pero magdadagdag ka ng bayad,” sabi niya. Nagbago ang isip ko, “Ay hindi nalang!” Pero bigla niyang sinabi, “Sige pero isang tanong lang ha?” Ay, isa lang? No choice. Pero sige na nga,” isip ko. “O sige… nababasa mo ba ang nasa isip ko ngayon?” pabirong tanong ko. Binala-balasa niya kunwari ang baraha. At saka niya inihilera ng pataob. Pagkaraan pumipili siya ng barahang inilalapag niya ng nakatihaya. Naghilera siya ng lima. “H’wag kang malungkot, dahil ang mahalaga ay nagkakaunawaan kayo. Kung ano ang nararandaman mo ngayon ay ganon din siya. Gaya ng kung mahal mo siya mahal ka rin niya. Iisa ang damdamin n’yo. Mahalaga ka pa rin sa kanya. Ganon din siya sa iyo. At kung mas sobra pa ang pagtingin mo sa kanya, ganon din siya sa iyo. Marami ang nagkakagusto duon. Pero nakikinig din siya sa iyo.”
Di ko alam kung matatawa o maiiyak ako sa nadinig ko. Kung ‘di lang sulky ang present moment ko, tiyak na mapapahagikgik ako o kaya ay kikiligin to the bones ako. Pero iisa lang ang masasabi ko, manghuhula talaga siya. But at this time, ang tawag ko sa kanya ay soul comforter. Binayaran ko siya ng isang daan, at naghiwalay na kami. Pero isa lang ang nasa isip ko, totoo man o hindi ang kanyang hula, ang importante ay napaglubag niya ang loob ko. At least ngayon, medyo nakakangiti na ako. Sumaya ako sa mga sinabi ni sister-brother - whatever his name was. Dahil ako pa rin pala ang best of bests ng best of bests ko.
Author: Cherrie Mon
*Published in TF Newsmag (September 2008 issue)
“Halika na, mura lang,” masuyong anyaya niya.” Marahil ay mas na-enganyo ako sa katangi-tanging hitsura ng nilalang na nasa aking harapan. Para sa akin ay may isa siyang kakatwang katangian. Isang binalake. Kakaiba ngunit may kayumian ang kanyang hitsura hindi kagaya ng mga ibang matataray na baklita. Bihira akong may makausap na ganitong anyo. Kung titingnan mo siyang mabuti ay mapapansin mong hindi siya isang manlolokong tao, nais lang na matulungan ka niya kung ano man ang gusto mong malaman. Kung baga, wala siyang pangingimi at walang halong panlililo. Nababasa kaya niya ang nasasaloob ko ngayo? Alam kaya niya ang aking dinaramdam?” Ito’y isang palaisipan sa akin. Tapat ang kanyang pag-anyaya. Para tuloy akong naging curious, gusto kong subukan kung paano siya manghula.
“Sige, magkano?” Tanong ko. “Mura lang”, sagot niya. Sa totoo lang ayaw kong masyadong magpaimpluwensya sa hula. Naalala ko noong panahon ng aking kabataan, kasama ko ang mga katandaan at halos malibot na naming lahat ng mga magagaling at balitang manghuhula sa kapuluan. Kaya hayun, minsan may mga natutuklasang mga nakakatawa na kagaya ng ang anak niyang ampon ay anak daw ng kanyang Mister sa ibang babae. At ang isa naman ay hindi daw ‘yung boyfriend niya sa kasalukuyan ang makakatuluyan kundi iba…siya nga namang nangyari. Bagama’t para sa akin naman ay gusto ko lang magbakasakali, parang katuwaan lang. ‘Di pa naman ako nabibigo nung mga panahon na ‘yun, at kung may mga manliligaw man, hindi ko pa naman sila pinag-uukulan ng pansin… kaya lang ako sumasama sa kanila ay upang malaman ko ang aking kapalaran tungkol sa aking pangarap na makapag-abroad. Positive naman kung tutuusin ang mga basa sa palad at baraha. Maganda lahat, tungo lahat iyon sa pag-unlad. Ngunit nang ako ay napaanib sa isang relihiyon na kahit ang paglalaro ng baraha ay hindi tinatanggap, pinilit ko ng umiwas sa mga ganito, gaano man kabisa at katotoo ang kanilang mga hula. Mayroon pa nga akong iniwasan na Psychic, na close friend ng aking mga relatives, subalit bukod tanging ako lang ang hindi nagbigay ng pagkakataon upang matingnan ako.Ngunit, ngayon gusto kong subukan ito just for fun. Isa pa malungkot ako ngayon. Para ba akong naging excited sa sasabihin niya.
Iginiya niya ako patungo sa isang simpleng restawran na tipong style ng Mc Donald’s. Habang nakasunod ako sa kanya alam kong siya ay naghahanap ng isang maayos na puwestong walang masyadong tao. Halatang siya ay madalas gumawi dito. Umupo kami sa may bandang sulok. Nagpalinga-linga ako sa paligid. May mga tao ring mangilan-ngilan na kumakain sa loob. Na tila wala naman ding pakialam dahil may kanya-kanya ring pinagkakaabalahan. Ang iba naman ay nagkwekwentuhan lang. May ibang nagpupukol ng tingin sa amin, pero wala lang. Ilang sandali ang makalipas pagkaraan naming makaupo ay inilabas niya ang isang salansan ng baraha. “Binalasa sa tatlo. “Bumunot ka ng tatlo.Kahit saan.” “Naku, yayaman ka!” ang sabi nya pagkakita niya sa diamond na pula. At pagkaraang ilapag ang pusong pula, “Tapat kang magmahal.” At pagkaraan pa ng isa ay: “Masama kang magalit,” bulalas na sabi niya. Ouch! Pagkaraan nito ay isa-isa niyang inihelera ang mga baraha. “Alam mo napakabuti mong kaibigan. Mapagbigay ka. Tumutulong ka sa nangangailangan. Hindi mo matitiis basta’t may lumapit at humingi ng tulong sa iyo. Kapag iniisip mo nagkakatutuo. Pero masama kang magalit, ganda. Iwasan mo yan. Kasi kapag nagalit ka may masamang nangyayari sa tao. Totoo ka kasing tao at napakabuti mong kaibigan. Kaya iwasan mong magalit, ganda ha?” Binalasa na naman niya, “Kuha ka uli ng tatlo….naku hayan, masama ka talagang magalit!” “Pero may nagmamahal sa iyong lapitin ng babae. Nakikinig naman siya sa iyo. Basta’t sinabi mo ginagawa naman niya. Kamuntik na tuloy akong maiyak sa sinabi niya. Dahil ilang araw na akong nagmumukmok dahil sa sama ng loob. Nag-away kami. Love-hate friendship namin ng best of bests ko. Close kasi kami. As far as I know, super special din ako sa kanya the way he treats me….and we treat each other that way. Extra-ordinary and especial nga actually… Whatever. Nakakatuwa nga…close na close kami, pero para kaming aso’t-pusa. “O malapit na tayong matapos,” aniya.
“P’wede ba akong magtanong,” ang sabi ko. “Pero magdadagdag ka ng bayad,” sabi niya. Nagbago ang isip ko, “Ay hindi nalang!” Pero bigla niyang sinabi, “Sige pero isang tanong lang ha?” Ay, isa lang? No choice. Pero sige na nga,” isip ko. “O sige… nababasa mo ba ang nasa isip ko ngayon?” pabirong tanong ko. Binala-balasa niya kunwari ang baraha. At saka niya inihilera ng pataob. Pagkaraan pumipili siya ng barahang inilalapag niya ng nakatihaya. Naghilera siya ng lima. “H’wag kang malungkot, dahil ang mahalaga ay nagkakaunawaan kayo. Kung ano ang nararandaman mo ngayon ay ganon din siya. Gaya ng kung mahal mo siya mahal ka rin niya. Iisa ang damdamin n’yo. Mahalaga ka pa rin sa kanya. Ganon din siya sa iyo. At kung mas sobra pa ang pagtingin mo sa kanya, ganon din siya sa iyo. Marami ang nagkakagusto duon. Pero nakikinig din siya sa iyo.”
Di ko alam kung matatawa o maiiyak ako sa nadinig ko. Kung ‘di lang sulky ang present moment ko, tiyak na mapapahagikgik ako o kaya ay kikiligin to the bones ako. Pero iisa lang ang masasabi ko, manghuhula talaga siya. But at this time, ang tawag ko sa kanya ay soul comforter. Binayaran ko siya ng isang daan, at naghiwalay na kami. Pero isa lang ang nasa isip ko, totoo man o hindi ang kanyang hula, ang importante ay napaglubag niya ang loob ko. At least ngayon, medyo nakakangiti na ako. Sumaya ako sa mga sinabi ni sister-brother - whatever his name was. Dahil ako pa rin pala ang best of bests ng best of bests ko.
Author: Cherrie Mon
*Published in TF Newsmag (September 2008 issue)
Quit Pulling Me Down, Crab!
I was barely a year in Hong Kong when I met a fellow ‘pinay’ on board a bus. On a twenty-minute ride to Central, she lamented her four-month ordeal on the job. The biggest thorn on the side? Another ’pinay’ co-worker. My heart went out to her. We were on the same boat then. I wondered what happened to her. I hope she got through as I did. It happened six years ago. I stayed on the same job, with the same co-worker, but on a much better situation than the first couple of years. My co-worker and I got along pretty well. We gained each other’s trust and respect. We understood each other’s idiosyncracies. When she snapped, I backed out. When I snapped, she backed out. Sometimes we just knew when to shut up or speak up. Yet, there were times we don’t. But we always get through.
Why is it that instead of supporting our own kind, some of us end up being an additional burden? Being older and longer in the job doesn’t give one the right to demean and boss-around a new worker. Instead of lifting someone up, we choose to put her down. It holds true with the way we treat other people we know. Instead of being happy and proud of someone’s accomplishment, we spit negative criticisms. If a congratulatory remark is ever given, it’s laced with sarcasm. The sort of people who practice these things may be eaten up with envy and jealousy, the green-eyed monsters. It drag down someone’s ascent on the ladder of success. The mentality of a crab…
Co-workers not getting along well is a common problem in Hong Kong. There are employers who tend to take sides– usually the older worker’s or the one who speaks Chinese better since she can defend and explain herself in the employer’s dialect. Premature termination of contract due to workers’ quarrel is not unusual here. Others have the patience and tolerance to work through the duration of the contract or even longer.
How do we deal with a difficult co-worker? My big boss’ advice was: Ignore her. Focus on your work. The advice worked, but not all the time. You cannot just ignore an elephant in a room, especially when it’s shoving its trunk on your face. Apparent and constant rudeness is something you just cannot let go easily. We’re only human, angered by such treatment. It takes a lot of sheer willpower to keep your emotions under control and not blow up.
Confrontation won’t work on someone whose mind and heart are closed. No amount of talking-to can change an old cow’s attitude or penetrate a one-track mind. It’s futile to communicate with one too proud. Cease talk is my way.
When you’re forced to dine together, faces just inches apart, and the loudmouth’s on the phone while eating with you– sprinkling saliva on the food, eat as fast and as much as you can before she realize there’s almost nothing left for her. Bad for digestion but you’ll be teaching her a lesson. If she’s too dense, she won’t get the message.
Just when you think you have peace and quiet after a hard day’s work, there goes the loud mouth on the phone again, talking non-sense to her friends. Plug that earphone into your pretty little ears and listen to a lively music– something to muffle the irritating voice you’re hearing. Or do something constructive– read, write, hum to yourself– just to quieten the fast drumming of your agitated heart brought about by the annoying blabbermouth.
There’s a perfect ingredient to ruin a beautiful morning– a sour-faced housemate. When you’re subjected to it, make it a point not to look at her face. Don’t look at her at all. Back view, side view, which ever angle– don’t! Otherwise, you’re doomed the rest of the day. It’ll put you in a black mood, too.
Being angry is enervating. It will sap you out of energy, crumple your pretty face, add lines on your forehead, inflate your nostrils… make you look like a gorilla, alienating everyone whom you cross paths with. Leave the sour-faced mammal alone. It’s just a moment, it will pass. Everyone goes through a black mood. Give her space, keep your distance for a while. It won’t ever do any good if you join her in that state and be angry, too. If we all subscribe to the philosophy of “an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth”, the whole world will be blind and toothless… that was what Mahatma Gandhi said. What we all need is empathy and understanding. You can sweeten the mood. If the cranky fellow loves to eat smelly tofu dipped in chili powder (that’s yummy!), include that in your menu for the day; if she loves durian, buy for her; if she loves yellow mini-skirt, find her one. The thing is, you’re reaching out, regardless of how you’re being treated. I’m not asking you to be a doormat, and let someone trample all over you, insult you, and throw dirt on your face. Oh no, that’s a far different thing. Well, you know when you should stand up for yourself. If you have faith in yourself, nobody– not even a darn crab, can ever put you down. But if it does happen and you find yourself at the bottom, just like a cork in the ocean, you will certainly find your way to the surface again.
Author: Joy Marqueses
*Published in The Filipino Now International magazine (March 2007 issue)
Why is it that instead of supporting our own kind, some of us end up being an additional burden? Being older and longer in the job doesn’t give one the right to demean and boss-around a new worker. Instead of lifting someone up, we choose to put her down. It holds true with the way we treat other people we know. Instead of being happy and proud of someone’s accomplishment, we spit negative criticisms. If a congratulatory remark is ever given, it’s laced with sarcasm. The sort of people who practice these things may be eaten up with envy and jealousy, the green-eyed monsters. It drag down someone’s ascent on the ladder of success. The mentality of a crab…
Co-workers not getting along well is a common problem in Hong Kong. There are employers who tend to take sides– usually the older worker’s or the one who speaks Chinese better since she can defend and explain herself in the employer’s dialect. Premature termination of contract due to workers’ quarrel is not unusual here. Others have the patience and tolerance to work through the duration of the contract or even longer.
How do we deal with a difficult co-worker? My big boss’ advice was: Ignore her. Focus on your work. The advice worked, but not all the time. You cannot just ignore an elephant in a room, especially when it’s shoving its trunk on your face. Apparent and constant rudeness is something you just cannot let go easily. We’re only human, angered by such treatment. It takes a lot of sheer willpower to keep your emotions under control and not blow up.
Confrontation won’t work on someone whose mind and heart are closed. No amount of talking-to can change an old cow’s attitude or penetrate a one-track mind. It’s futile to communicate with one too proud. Cease talk is my way.
When you’re forced to dine together, faces just inches apart, and the loudmouth’s on the phone while eating with you– sprinkling saliva on the food, eat as fast and as much as you can before she realize there’s almost nothing left for her. Bad for digestion but you’ll be teaching her a lesson. If she’s too dense, she won’t get the message.
Just when you think you have peace and quiet after a hard day’s work, there goes the loud mouth on the phone again, talking non-sense to her friends. Plug that earphone into your pretty little ears and listen to a lively music– something to muffle the irritating voice you’re hearing. Or do something constructive– read, write, hum to yourself– just to quieten the fast drumming of your agitated heart brought about by the annoying blabbermouth.
There’s a perfect ingredient to ruin a beautiful morning– a sour-faced housemate. When you’re subjected to it, make it a point not to look at her face. Don’t look at her at all. Back view, side view, which ever angle– don’t! Otherwise, you’re doomed the rest of the day. It’ll put you in a black mood, too.
Being angry is enervating. It will sap you out of energy, crumple your pretty face, add lines on your forehead, inflate your nostrils… make you look like a gorilla, alienating everyone whom you cross paths with. Leave the sour-faced mammal alone. It’s just a moment, it will pass. Everyone goes through a black mood. Give her space, keep your distance for a while. It won’t ever do any good if you join her in that state and be angry, too. If we all subscribe to the philosophy of “an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth”, the whole world will be blind and toothless… that was what Mahatma Gandhi said. What we all need is empathy and understanding. You can sweeten the mood. If the cranky fellow loves to eat smelly tofu dipped in chili powder (that’s yummy!), include that in your menu for the day; if she loves durian, buy for her; if she loves yellow mini-skirt, find her one. The thing is, you’re reaching out, regardless of how you’re being treated. I’m not asking you to be a doormat, and let someone trample all over you, insult you, and throw dirt on your face. Oh no, that’s a far different thing. Well, you know when you should stand up for yourself. If you have faith in yourself, nobody– not even a darn crab, can ever put you down. But if it does happen and you find yourself at the bottom, just like a cork in the ocean, you will certainly find your way to the surface again.
Author: Joy Marqueses
*Published in The Filipino Now International magazine (March 2007 issue)
Bayaning Luhaan
Tulala sa isang tabi, walang sinasabi
Hindi maipahayag, damdaming nakakubli
Kung pagmamasdan, walang dinaramdam
Ngunit sa kaibuturan, labis s’yang nasasaktan.
Kung tawagin nga’y bayani, isang katanyagan
Ngunit ang puso ay sadyang sugatan
Bayaning nagtataglay ng kalungkutan
Isa ngang bayani, subalit luhaan.
Sabik sa pamilya, kulang sa pagmamahal
Walang masandalan sa oras ng kalumbayan
Hinahanap na atensyon, di naman makamtan
Dahil mahal sa buhay, ay may kalayuan.
Katanungan sa isip ito ba ang kapalaran?
Ang maging malayo sa mga mahal sa buhay
Hanggang kailan magtitiis ng ibayong kalungkutan
Ang paghihirap ba ay may katapusan?
Lumuluha sa karimlan, tumititig sa kawalan
Nakatingala sa langit, at laging umaasam
Sana’y malampasan ang mga kahirapan
Upang makapiling na ang mga minamahal
Author: Zyrel
*Published in True Friends Newsmag (September 2008 issue)
Hindi maipahayag, damdaming nakakubli
Kung pagmamasdan, walang dinaramdam
Ngunit sa kaibuturan, labis s’yang nasasaktan.
Kung tawagin nga’y bayani, isang katanyagan
Ngunit ang puso ay sadyang sugatan
Bayaning nagtataglay ng kalungkutan
Isa ngang bayani, subalit luhaan.
Sabik sa pamilya, kulang sa pagmamahal
Walang masandalan sa oras ng kalumbayan
Hinahanap na atensyon, di naman makamtan
Dahil mahal sa buhay, ay may kalayuan.
Katanungan sa isip ito ba ang kapalaran?
Ang maging malayo sa mga mahal sa buhay
Hanggang kailan magtitiis ng ibayong kalungkutan
Ang paghihirap ba ay may katapusan?
Lumuluha sa karimlan, tumititig sa kawalan
Nakatingala sa langit, at laging umaasam
Sana’y malampasan ang mga kahirapan
Upang makapiling na ang mga minamahal
Author: Zyrel
*Published in True Friends Newsmag (September 2008 issue)
Could You Be Lorie
Inflation? Discrimination? A not so hard-knock-down power, we can still hang on lifting the lever. One giant family problem, however, is enough to crush an OFW’s spirit. In Hong Kong today, there are 120,000 working Filipinos. Daily, more than 240,000 stories are told. We hear endless with shades of pink, black, and blue, from Sunny Bay to Tai Tam Hills, from Wanchai bars to St. Alfred’s church. Author: Annabelle Libao
I love the wisdom of this person when she told me, “What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.” A very inspiring lady with a very inspiring life. Allow me to share to you…
Lorie ran away from home when she was 17 years old. Home was 10 brothers and sisters. She’s the 7th. Their father, a soldier, left them for a call of mission and for a younger wife. Life was hard, a hand to mouth existence. Their mother a market vendor, overburdened with responsibilities, didn’t survive long enough. Tormented, she died of disease.
Lorie was desperate of affection, for a dream of what she is to be, for a place where she feels safe. A 24 year old man found her. They lived together and born 2 sons. Simple and content but not until years later when her refuge, pride and sense of belonging dwindled. The man who promised love and security learned to appreciate smoke, alcohol and other women. A young mother, a domesticated partner, again in a much greater pain and isolation. She headed abroad for redemption-purpose and freedom. Though she missed her beloved sons deeply, hope gave her endurance to hold on, knowing she could provide them a better future. She worked in Dubai for 4 years then bounded to Hong Kong. Her partner remained unchanged, never reciprocates generosity and sacrifice. Vices, distance, silence and the truth of his non-stop affairs (of 2 he made pregnant) pushed Lorie to disclaim hopes and resistance. She’s responsible but also young (32), vulnerable, unloved.
She discovered new friends and new places. For comfort, she became a week-end barfly. She had many failed relationships at varying degree of attachment, casual-deep, platonic-sexual, at different times, with different races. Worst of all doings, she twice had an abortion. Lorie lost confidence and worth. So consumed with guilt and misery that many times she contemplated to simply just vanish on the face of the earth. Having 2 children, reminded unfulfilled dreams, the blessing of chances and choices, realized she has bigger reasons to fight and live.
That was 19 years ago. Currently, her first son is an engineer, the second a nurse. Both thriving, wonderful and the lights of her life. Reconciled to a totally changed man who fathered her children, she finally married him in 2000.
Her reunion with her father released her from prolonged hurts and unforgiveness. At his grave, heart opened, said farewell, prayed, and thankful of the circumstances at young age that brought out the new person that she is. Now, a committed servant of God, straightened, strengthened, grateful, and proud.
Some of you out there will probably say, “Hey, Belle! That’s a good story with a glorious ending, what about us under the dark clouds?” Well, read again, stop at the middle. But I don’t wish you do for as much as I want you to feel the emptiness, guilt, despair, bitterness, I hope you could focus, partake in the hard-fought triumph of selfless sacrifice, perseverance, forgiveness and God’s love.
And I can also tell you stories with sorrowful end. Tales of failed dreams, of broken relationships, of abused sacrifice, of tragic events. Each of us has different stories to tell, struggles to cope. Down, dispirited, yung iba tumigil nang magsaya, umasa at mangarap. Harsh realities can pierce human heart and soul. Choices we do make, to dwell in the alley of darkness or to walk up and follow the path to light.
Like Lorie, I also believe in God. Just as when my grandmother always reminds me, “Troubles are God’s opportunities of calling us to Him.” And that if we face them with a humble heart, place our faith in God, and take the next right action, we will come through them better and stronger.
I have my own share of struggles yet thankful that I have help, and light when I needed. We might be crushed but not broken, struck down but not buried, abandoned but will never be forsaken. I do believe that there is good to be found even in the worst of situations if only we can gather the strength to look for it… the silver linings are always there.
Author: Annabelle Libao
*Published in TF Newsmag (September 2008 issue)
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