We almost did not make it to the concert. The car wasn’t out of the shop yet since it had continuously rainethe past days they could not get the paint job done. So Bolo and I had to take the taxi. But then it rained so hard so it was difficult to hail one. We came to a point that we decided to take a jeep instead up until we get to an area where it’s easier to get a cab. And so that’s what we did. All of a sudden the jeep broke down. So Bolo texted a friend who offered us a ride earlier but whom we turned down since we wanted to make it to the concert on time. We had to wait a bit and I was growing anxious by the minute.
And we thought that was the end of our worries. When we got to the venue, guess what happened to us? They held us out at the entrance. We were refused entry since they said, the venue was already overloaded. I know I should have felt annoyed but I was really finding the whole thing very funny. It seems to me that I have again become the subject of amusement for the fates. If they think the whole thing would make me grow mad and irritated well, they are wrong. I’ve gone past feeling that when some mishaps occur. Even from way, way back.
One thing I learned, no amount of irritation, filling your head with negative thoughts, could change how things are. If anything, they could only drag you down. From early on, I already learned the value of “not” crying over spilled milk. Tears would be pretty useless anyway. They wouldn’t replace the milk that was spilled, for sure. So every time something like this happens, I would usually find the whole thing amusing. I’m picturing God laughing over me with a naughty glint in His eye and so I would return the gesture and that is by seeing the humor behind all of it.
Anyway, so there we were. It was quite an experience really. Since there were a lot of us refused entry, there was much commotion. Some feigned irritation at the guards. Some pretended to be really angry just to scare the guards to let us in. And we were running late already. I was relaxed though, awaiting how the entire experience would unfold. But finally we were allowed in.
Bolo and I raced towards the venue’s gates. Upon entrance, guess what was the first thing I heard? Russel Hitchcock’s voice crooning, “There’s a chance you will be there, please be there alone. Let me speak of love… The chances are too strong. The chance you will be there….” I was definitely floored and disappointed all at the same time. Air Supply singing that song in the concert was what I was looking forward to. It was my “favoritist” among all of their songs. I was disappointed because I had pictured so many times in my head that I will be seated there in the dark, having goosebumps all over me the instant I would recognize the intro of the song. That’s what happened to me when JFC sang, “Gone Too Far” during his recent concert here.
But the rest of the night sure made it up for me. We were awfully late. I was downhearted upon finding out that the concert started on time. They usually don’t and so I did not worry much about the delay we’ve encountered. But as it is, it seemed that the fates finally favored me. There were no more available seats but lo and behold, Bolo managed to secure us a spot directly opposite the stage. We weren’t that near but the visuals was really great, we were at almost the same level as the stage so it was pretty awesome. When both artists went down to the audience singing one of my favorites – “Here I Am,” I nearly fainted. I could not imagine for the love of me, how that could possibly happen. There they were, artists you listened to while growing up, you loved their songs, you played them all day long in your guitar, you buy their tapes and CDs and you love them, period. And there they were, and the possibility of touching them. Hah! What more could one ask?!
But of course I wasn’t able to touch them hehehe. Not Russel nor Graham but the thought of them giving such once in a lifetime experience to the number of fans out there who were lucky enough to touch them firsthand, was enough to overwhelm me. I was grateful for them and their experience. I could only imagine how they were feeling but I empathized so much I felt then that it was also happening to me. I was really kicking myself for not wanting such an experience for myself. I turned to Bolo and told him, it did not happen to me because I did not ask for it. But who would anyway? Who would have thought that an international artist such as them would be brave enough to go down to the audience and let them touch them? I’ve been to a number of concerts but that was the first time I witnessed an international artist do so.
The music was great. The concert was great. It was fun seeing persons of all ages filling the venue to the brim. Some were dressed to the nines, others very casually. At one point, Bolo and I were even surprised when a mother and her baby of about 1 year old joined us in our little nook. I mean, a baby, really?! She was on her socks still. Hehehe
I knew all songs by heart that at the end of the concert, I was hoarse from singing out loud. It was a great night. There was something dreamlike about seeing a band -- you only listened to in the past and was a great part of your life – first-hand. I can’t wait to have more of the same : )
Friday, June 27, 2008
Monday, June 23, 2008
"Dancer"
The family went on a weekend vacation at Tatay Along’s place in Butuan last May. The kids, particularly Baby, had a field day. It’s Baby’s first visit to a farm and he was so delighted to see first-hand all those things he gets to read only in books. He particularly took a liking to a cute, little piglet that run about freely around Tatay’s yard. There was also a hen and her chicks, some dogs and cats. But what really excited him were the carabaos. And surprising enough, he calls them “dancer.”
For a month now I’ve really been wondering how he happens to associate the word, “dancer” with a carabao. Of course, I readily corrected him then, repeating again and again, it is a carabao. And soon enough he was calling it a carabao. But then after a while, when he’d see one, he’d point at it and would say, “Nanay, look, dancer.” And I was like, “Huh?” I could not for the love of me understand why the term. I was thinking he probably saw it in Disney Channel or in one of his cartoon shows. I even asked him about it if he saw a “dancing” carabao in Disney Channel but he just looked at me in a strange way as if asking himself if he’s Nanay had turned nuts on him wahehehe.
And then last, night, the puzzle was solved at last. I was really beside myself with laughter when Baby ran to me from the other room to show me the new pajamas his Lola Linda bought him. He came to me running, saying, “Nanay, dancer! Dancer!” And lo and behold, there it was, a pair of Carter pajamas with “DINOSAUR” prints on them! Hahaha! So that was what “dancer” was about. Baby mistook a carabao for a dinosaur! Hahaha! How cute of him. Dancer indeed!
I think it’s really cute how good Baby is with his animals and all of that. I think I’m also pleased with the fact that he takes interests in dinosaurs. I used to like them too when I was little but I did not have the patience to really know them all by heart. I knew a T-Rex though and that long-necked “vegetarian” kind, the name of which, escapes me at the moment. But other than that, I always confuse my “saurs” and my “clops,” whatever hehehe. Now, I’m thinking if it’s high time to buy baby those dinosaur books or cards with all the names on them. Wouldn’t want to put much pressure though where his learning is concerned.
Of course I want Baby to grow up smart and intelligent. We pray for that everyday. But I wouldn’t want to be the kind of Mom who forces things down my son’s throat just because I have such grandiose designs for him and his life. I would very much want to be the kind of Mom who would be sensitive enough to pay attention to his own rhythms and flow. I want to have an active part in his life – helping him along, “molding” him ever so carefully to help him achieve his full potential. At the same time, I want to be an attentive spectator, watching him, holding my breath as he unfolds right under my very eyes. I am excited to learn about his own personality, his own sanskaras and what his “message” would be in this world.
My son, all that he is, and all that he will be, is something that is far beyond my grasp or undoing. I maybe his mother and as such, is responsible for him in many ways but at the same time I acknowledge the fact that like me, he is also the Father’s “masterpiece.” God has His own plans and designs for him and that is something far beyond “me.” Controlling his life in the perspective of my own “grandiose” designs and illusions would be like committing a mortal sin. It would be like disregarding altogether the Hand that made all things be. And I pray that He will help me along on this -- to constantly remind me of this fact -- that I am just a ward, a guardian in my son’s life. I should lighten up a bit and not take my role as his mother too seriously. After all, I am not in control of everything. HE is.
For a month now I’ve really been wondering how he happens to associate the word, “dancer” with a carabao. Of course, I readily corrected him then, repeating again and again, it is a carabao. And soon enough he was calling it a carabao. But then after a while, when he’d see one, he’d point at it and would say, “Nanay, look, dancer.” And I was like, “Huh?” I could not for the love of me understand why the term. I was thinking he probably saw it in Disney Channel or in one of his cartoon shows. I even asked him about it if he saw a “dancing” carabao in Disney Channel but he just looked at me in a strange way as if asking himself if he’s Nanay had turned nuts on him wahehehe.
And then last, night, the puzzle was solved at last. I was really beside myself with laughter when Baby ran to me from the other room to show me the new pajamas his Lola Linda bought him. He came to me running, saying, “Nanay, dancer! Dancer!” And lo and behold, there it was, a pair of Carter pajamas with “DINOSAUR” prints on them! Hahaha! So that was what “dancer” was about. Baby mistook a carabao for a dinosaur! Hahaha! How cute of him. Dancer indeed!
I think it’s really cute how good Baby is with his animals and all of that. I think I’m also pleased with the fact that he takes interests in dinosaurs. I used to like them too when I was little but I did not have the patience to really know them all by heart. I knew a T-Rex though and that long-necked “vegetarian” kind, the name of which, escapes me at the moment. But other than that, I always confuse my “saurs” and my “clops,” whatever hehehe. Now, I’m thinking if it’s high time to buy baby those dinosaur books or cards with all the names on them. Wouldn’t want to put much pressure though where his learning is concerned.
Of course I want Baby to grow up smart and intelligent. We pray for that everyday. But I wouldn’t want to be the kind of Mom who forces things down my son’s throat just because I have such grandiose designs for him and his life. I would very much want to be the kind of Mom who would be sensitive enough to pay attention to his own rhythms and flow. I want to have an active part in his life – helping him along, “molding” him ever so carefully to help him achieve his full potential. At the same time, I want to be an attentive spectator, watching him, holding my breath as he unfolds right under my very eyes. I am excited to learn about his own personality, his own sanskaras and what his “message” would be in this world.
My son, all that he is, and all that he will be, is something that is far beyond my grasp or undoing. I maybe his mother and as such, is responsible for him in many ways but at the same time I acknowledge the fact that like me, he is also the Father’s “masterpiece.” God has His own plans and designs for him and that is something far beyond “me.” Controlling his life in the perspective of my own “grandiose” designs and illusions would be like committing a mortal sin. It would be like disregarding altogether the Hand that made all things be. And I pray that He will help me along on this -- to constantly remind me of this fact -- that I am just a ward, a guardian in my son’s life. I should lighten up a bit and not take my role as his mother too seriously. After all, I am not in control of everything. HE is.
Monday, June 16, 2008
"Credit"
I sat at the edge of the bed, feeling a lot of emotions all at once. I was frustrated, disappointed, angry, and upset. It was one of those moments when I would ask myself whether I made the right decision for choosing Bolo to be my other “half.” Yup, there are definitely moments like that. One thing I learned about being married is that it isn’t everyday that you will feel thankful that you are married. Haha! Every now and then there are moments when I would ask myself what I was thinking the day I decided to get married. Haha!
It’s pretty much like climbing really. Right when you’re in the middle of an eight-hour long trek. Your shoes are heavy with mud; the trail is getting steeper and more difficult; and what was once a comfortable pack begins to weigh heavily down your shoulders and back. At that point you would certainly ask what made you forsake the comforts of your home and bed to haul yourself up to be in the middle of a mountain and endure hours and hours of walking while carrying not-so-few kilos on your back.
In mountaineering, however, past experiences would tell you that a glorious view at the peak would make all the sacrifices worth it. You knew that after the entire long, hard trek, the view at the top would make up for all that you’ve endured. Nothing sure beats the feeling of being up there, looking down in all of God’s creation. As long as one’s eye could see.
In marriage, well, it is a lifelong commitment, and a lifelong journey. This meant that the “peak” is nowhere around any immediate corner. One had to “travel” a lifetime before one reaches the peak. So who knows what awaits us there? What are the sights to behold? And what are the emotions that would course through us once we reach the summit of married life?
But I’m digressing again. I only wanted to write about a recent incident wherein Bolo and I fought again over a minute little detail. Sometime soon, to celebrate my birthday and our anniversary (and also to treat mama to a long overdue vacation), we are going on a family travel. Well, it had been a tradition of ours to travel at least once a year as a family. It is something we look forward to every year.
Anyway, I’ve been moving heaven and earth just to make sure everything would fit within our budget. Since this time, there wouldn’t just be the three of us. Mama, Janin and Mama Fely will be joining us. Having Mama and Janin meant additional expense of course. It meant extra air fare, extra terminal fees, extra bus fares and other incidentals. Not that I really mind it at all. If I could have my way, I’d bestow on Mama all the luxury that she truly deserves. But as it is, reality entails, Bolo and I could only afford so much.
So I’ve really been surfing the net overtime the past few months, looking for ways and options wherein we could save. I was lucky enough to have found a cheap accommodation due to some recommendation of a friend (Thanks Ruf! :)). Anyway, the reservation entails that I have to make a deposit to their Allied Bank account. Credit card would not do since there are additional charges.
Now, here’s why we quarreled. Bolo was set to go to Bankerohan for some ukay rendezvous. I had to be at the office the whole day. I had no time to flit off and go to the bank which is so totally out of the way. Allied Bank, however, is close to where Bankerohan is. So it makes so much sense to have Bolo go to the bank and make the deposit. But he would not.
There he was lying at the other side of the bed, covering his face with a pillow and like a spoiled child stubbornly told me he isn’t going to make the transaction. I was angry and felt so incredulous I swear I could have done something more than just seethe there in silence. No amount of cajoling would want him to do it. I tried drama by crying, appealing to his hopefully-present-merciful-side by pointing out to him that it’ll be much of an inconvenience for me. Then I tried bullying, trying to throw a fit just so he would agree to do it. When that did not work, I got rude and pointed out to him he only had to “deposit” and not bother about… well… looking for the funds to be deposited.
I’m not in the least proud of this. And this is certainly ugly but I was really disappointed that he refused to do it. That he wouldn’t mind if I had to go through all the hassles when he could do it himself. Anyway, finally getting ashamed of myself for having resorted to the lowest trick on the book, I tried diplomacy. I mustered all the patience I could get and assured him I’ll try my best to provide him with all the information he needed – the account details, the address, etc. I told him I would write everything so clearly so he wouldn’t have to commit a mistake.
Finally, I got to him and he stood up and stomped his way out of the bedroom muttering something to my face. It was a full sentence but all I could hear was the word, “credit.” It was hard to miss since he kept repeating the word. It was only when I followed him downstairs that I understood what he meant by “credit.”
I was lucky enough to have secured a deposit slip from Allied Bank since that is where Mama Fely keeps a checking account. I knew pretty well that his reluctance to do the transaction was Allied Bank being different from PS Bank and Banco De Oro. What both banks had in common is that he often transacts there for me. So he’s pretty much familiar with the forms and all that. Allied Bank, however, was a new one. Haaay. What is it with guys, anyway? Their being so scared about asking questions when they don’t know what to do about something? :p
I patiently explained to him that I already wrote down the account details of the hotel in the sample deposit slip. I pointed out to him, however, that since he’s making an inter-branch transaction, he’d probably be asked to fill up another sort of form. I reassured him that it shouldn’t bother him since all the details needed would be in the sample deposit slip. I reassured him there is nothing so scary about all of it actually and that he could always ask questions if ever he is unsure of anything. Then his reply totally made me smile. He told me in not so many words that yeah he is willing to do the transaction himself. What he is upset about is that his efforts would not again be “credited,” that it’s as if he did nothing at all. I was amused and sad all at the same time.
So that was what he meant by “credit.’ It saddened me to think that I’ve probably been not vocal about my appreciation for all the little things he did for me. Well, not as much as I’ve been so vocal about his “misdeeds” and shortcomings to me. In hindsight, our first year had seen me always vocal about my appreciation for him. I would often text him my “thank you’s” for taking care of our son, for his doing errands for my Mom. Come to think of it, “thank you’s” then were often exchanged between the two of us. I could distinctly recall a touching incident wherein Bolo turned to me and thanked me for bearing him his son… Now I wonder where all of that have gone to.
Have I become so petty? So shortsighted? Or is there also some “lack” in his part that made me become one? Was it the “injectibles”? Post-partum blues? Stress? Feeling of discontent? Or all of the above? I think these are things that I ought to seriously think about. If there is one thing I learned from the incident it is that appreciation sure could go a long, long way in any relationship. It will always be a good company to keep rather than constant fault-finding and petty quarrels over nothing that serious really. Ah, this, I should keep in mind. Always.
It’s pretty much like climbing really. Right when you’re in the middle of an eight-hour long trek. Your shoes are heavy with mud; the trail is getting steeper and more difficult; and what was once a comfortable pack begins to weigh heavily down your shoulders and back. At that point you would certainly ask what made you forsake the comforts of your home and bed to haul yourself up to be in the middle of a mountain and endure hours and hours of walking while carrying not-so-few kilos on your back.
In mountaineering, however, past experiences would tell you that a glorious view at the peak would make all the sacrifices worth it. You knew that after the entire long, hard trek, the view at the top would make up for all that you’ve endured. Nothing sure beats the feeling of being up there, looking down in all of God’s creation. As long as one’s eye could see.
In marriage, well, it is a lifelong commitment, and a lifelong journey. This meant that the “peak” is nowhere around any immediate corner. One had to “travel” a lifetime before one reaches the peak. So who knows what awaits us there? What are the sights to behold? And what are the emotions that would course through us once we reach the summit of married life?
But I’m digressing again. I only wanted to write about a recent incident wherein Bolo and I fought again over a minute little detail. Sometime soon, to celebrate my birthday and our anniversary (and also to treat mama to a long overdue vacation), we are going on a family travel. Well, it had been a tradition of ours to travel at least once a year as a family. It is something we look forward to every year.
Anyway, I’ve been moving heaven and earth just to make sure everything would fit within our budget. Since this time, there wouldn’t just be the three of us. Mama, Janin and Mama Fely will be joining us. Having Mama and Janin meant additional expense of course. It meant extra air fare, extra terminal fees, extra bus fares and other incidentals. Not that I really mind it at all. If I could have my way, I’d bestow on Mama all the luxury that she truly deserves. But as it is, reality entails, Bolo and I could only afford so much.
So I’ve really been surfing the net overtime the past few months, looking for ways and options wherein we could save. I was lucky enough to have found a cheap accommodation due to some recommendation of a friend (Thanks Ruf! :)). Anyway, the reservation entails that I have to make a deposit to their Allied Bank account. Credit card would not do since there are additional charges.
Now, here’s why we quarreled. Bolo was set to go to Bankerohan for some ukay rendezvous. I had to be at the office the whole day. I had no time to flit off and go to the bank which is so totally out of the way. Allied Bank, however, is close to where Bankerohan is. So it makes so much sense to have Bolo go to the bank and make the deposit. But he would not.
There he was lying at the other side of the bed, covering his face with a pillow and like a spoiled child stubbornly told me he isn’t going to make the transaction. I was angry and felt so incredulous I swear I could have done something more than just seethe there in silence. No amount of cajoling would want him to do it. I tried drama by crying, appealing to his hopefully-present-merciful-side by pointing out to him that it’ll be much of an inconvenience for me. Then I tried bullying, trying to throw a fit just so he would agree to do it. When that did not work, I got rude and pointed out to him he only had to “deposit” and not bother about… well… looking for the funds to be deposited.
I’m not in the least proud of this. And this is certainly ugly but I was really disappointed that he refused to do it. That he wouldn’t mind if I had to go through all the hassles when he could do it himself. Anyway, finally getting ashamed of myself for having resorted to the lowest trick on the book, I tried diplomacy. I mustered all the patience I could get and assured him I’ll try my best to provide him with all the information he needed – the account details, the address, etc. I told him I would write everything so clearly so he wouldn’t have to commit a mistake.
Finally, I got to him and he stood up and stomped his way out of the bedroom muttering something to my face. It was a full sentence but all I could hear was the word, “credit.” It was hard to miss since he kept repeating the word. It was only when I followed him downstairs that I understood what he meant by “credit.”
I was lucky enough to have secured a deposit slip from Allied Bank since that is where Mama Fely keeps a checking account. I knew pretty well that his reluctance to do the transaction was Allied Bank being different from PS Bank and Banco De Oro. What both banks had in common is that he often transacts there for me. So he’s pretty much familiar with the forms and all that. Allied Bank, however, was a new one. Haaay. What is it with guys, anyway? Their being so scared about asking questions when they don’t know what to do about something? :p
I patiently explained to him that I already wrote down the account details of the hotel in the sample deposit slip. I pointed out to him, however, that since he’s making an inter-branch transaction, he’d probably be asked to fill up another sort of form. I reassured him that it shouldn’t bother him since all the details needed would be in the sample deposit slip. I reassured him there is nothing so scary about all of it actually and that he could always ask questions if ever he is unsure of anything. Then his reply totally made me smile. He told me in not so many words that yeah he is willing to do the transaction himself. What he is upset about is that his efforts would not again be “credited,” that it’s as if he did nothing at all. I was amused and sad all at the same time.
So that was what he meant by “credit.’ It saddened me to think that I’ve probably been not vocal about my appreciation for all the little things he did for me. Well, not as much as I’ve been so vocal about his “misdeeds” and shortcomings to me. In hindsight, our first year had seen me always vocal about my appreciation for him. I would often text him my “thank you’s” for taking care of our son, for his doing errands for my Mom. Come to think of it, “thank you’s” then were often exchanged between the two of us. I could distinctly recall a touching incident wherein Bolo turned to me and thanked me for bearing him his son… Now I wonder where all of that have gone to.
Have I become so petty? So shortsighted? Or is there also some “lack” in his part that made me become one? Was it the “injectibles”? Post-partum blues? Stress? Feeling of discontent? Or all of the above? I think these are things that I ought to seriously think about. If there is one thing I learned from the incident it is that appreciation sure could go a long, long way in any relationship. It will always be a good company to keep rather than constant fault-finding and petty quarrels over nothing that serious really. Ah, this, I should keep in mind. Always.
Tuesday, June 10, 2008
Circle of Fire...of Life...
We were all huddled in a circle, discussing all sorts of issues on "development." We are in a meeting organized by a foreign-funded development agency. All participants there, myself included, are partners of that agency. Most of us have projects in partnership with them while some just have concluded projects with them.
Everyone was candid, airing out their sentiments outright, openly sharing their views and ideas. While we were making comments on how things could still be improved, it was not in a criticizing manner. Everything was treated objectively. In fact, it was very glaring that everyone there was not intent about just making criticisms but on how things could be better for the smooth implementation of projects. The focus was on how the projects will be delivered to the "beneficiaries" (or as pointed out during the meeting, the politically correct term would be, "partners") the best and fastest, possible way. The stress was on the importance of meeting their needs and addressing important developmental issues. The sincerity of everyone present really struck me. Everyone's candidness imply the fact that these people are indeed serious about working for development and not just being there for monetary reasons alone. Well, I've had some experiences on the latter...
We were intent on our discussion when the feeling of dejavu hit me. I felt myself floating and for a while a vision of the same circle but in another more primitive time drifts in and out of my mind. In the vision, we were huddled close to a bonfire, also engrossed in some sort of conference. I smiled at the vision, noting its possibility.
The activity served a reunion of sorts for most of us. Old classmates, past collegues, members of the same network in the past quite eagerly made a "reconnection" then, rekindling old fires, reminding everyone of one's passion about development that have somehow ebbed over the years. For a moment I thought that day's activity was like a gathering of sorts in a waterhole, for some tired soul warriors to refresh themselves and replenish their weary selves after spending years and the most part of their lives working for Mindanao.
I sat there and I began to re-examine my recent pre-occupation about uprooting my family and moving on to some country to start our lives anew. I must admit I am being pulled in opposite directions nowadays. And I'm afraid the fire that used to light my spirit -- that had been the constant barometer for my decisions in the past -- would sometimes waver when I think about certain realities such as my son's future and my immediate family's direction in life.
I've had, had opportunities to get into some really serious conversations during lull moments at the meeting and at one point I felt an affirmation when I heard someone say, "Now I feel it's high time I think about working for my family and not just for Mindanao. Now, the kids are growing up, and demanding more time from me. I think it's high time that I start thinking for myself..."
I'll always be inlove with Mindanao. For some reason, I feel a special connection to this place. In my youth, I have known right away that my talents and gifts would be for Mindanao and not for some place else. I was never lured by the promises of great wealth and a more comfortable life that being in another country offers. I knew then where my passion lay and I was deadset about it. Up until now. During one of those conversations, I shared how I find it ironic how simple everything was to me in the past when my preoccupation had been that of the macro-perspective -- working for peace and development in Mindanao. Now, that I am forced to look into the micro-details of my life -- being a Mom and a wife -- I found out it's more complicated and time-consuming and more detail-oriented. There are just too many at stake where the latter is concerned. But yeah, I love both aspects of my life now.
If I could have my way, I'd love to chance upon a great windfall of money, where I could continue to work for my passion while at the same time be sure that my family and son will be well-provided for. For sure, I would like to bequeth to my son this passion I have about Mindanao. It's one unique quality that I love about myself and I would like to share that with him. I long for the day when I would be able to tag him along in one of those great causes for Mindanao. I long to teach him about peace, about love for nature, and for a heritage that is so rich but so unfortunately torn by so much unrest. I love my son dearly in the same way that I am so passionate about this land I call "home." I would love for him to share the same passion.
Everyone was candid, airing out their sentiments outright, openly sharing their views and ideas. While we were making comments on how things could still be improved, it was not in a criticizing manner. Everything was treated objectively. In fact, it was very glaring that everyone there was not intent about just making criticisms but on how things could be better for the smooth implementation of projects. The focus was on how the projects will be delivered to the "beneficiaries" (or as pointed out during the meeting, the politically correct term would be, "partners") the best and fastest, possible way. The stress was on the importance of meeting their needs and addressing important developmental issues. The sincerity of everyone present really struck me. Everyone's candidness imply the fact that these people are indeed serious about working for development and not just being there for monetary reasons alone. Well, I've had some experiences on the latter...
We were intent on our discussion when the feeling of dejavu hit me. I felt myself floating and for a while a vision of the same circle but in another more primitive time drifts in and out of my mind. In the vision, we were huddled close to a bonfire, also engrossed in some sort of conference. I smiled at the vision, noting its possibility.
The activity served a reunion of sorts for most of us. Old classmates, past collegues, members of the same network in the past quite eagerly made a "reconnection" then, rekindling old fires, reminding everyone of one's passion about development that have somehow ebbed over the years. For a moment I thought that day's activity was like a gathering of sorts in a waterhole, for some tired soul warriors to refresh themselves and replenish their weary selves after spending years and the most part of their lives working for Mindanao.
I sat there and I began to re-examine my recent pre-occupation about uprooting my family and moving on to some country to start our lives anew. I must admit I am being pulled in opposite directions nowadays. And I'm afraid the fire that used to light my spirit -- that had been the constant barometer for my decisions in the past -- would sometimes waver when I think about certain realities such as my son's future and my immediate family's direction in life.
I've had, had opportunities to get into some really serious conversations during lull moments at the meeting and at one point I felt an affirmation when I heard someone say, "Now I feel it's high time I think about working for my family and not just for Mindanao. Now, the kids are growing up, and demanding more time from me. I think it's high time that I start thinking for myself..."
I'll always be inlove with Mindanao. For some reason, I feel a special connection to this place. In my youth, I have known right away that my talents and gifts would be for Mindanao and not for some place else. I was never lured by the promises of great wealth and a more comfortable life that being in another country offers. I knew then where my passion lay and I was deadset about it. Up until now. During one of those conversations, I shared how I find it ironic how simple everything was to me in the past when my preoccupation had been that of the macro-perspective -- working for peace and development in Mindanao. Now, that I am forced to look into the micro-details of my life -- being a Mom and a wife -- I found out it's more complicated and time-consuming and more detail-oriented. There are just too many at stake where the latter is concerned. But yeah, I love both aspects of my life now.
If I could have my way, I'd love to chance upon a great windfall of money, where I could continue to work for my passion while at the same time be sure that my family and son will be well-provided for. For sure, I would like to bequeth to my son this passion I have about Mindanao. It's one unique quality that I love about myself and I would like to share that with him. I long for the day when I would be able to tag him along in one of those great causes for Mindanao. I long to teach him about peace, about love for nature, and for a heritage that is so rich but so unfortunately torn by so much unrest. I love my son dearly in the same way that I am so passionate about this land I call "home." I would love for him to share the same passion.
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