To Pass on the Torch

I’m currently developing a concept note for a poverty alleviation project.  Inevitably, I had to surf the net for the country’s latest poverty statistics.  It wasn’t just the tables and figures that I came to.  I stumbled upon reports as well, bearing photographs on its covers showing exactly what poverty means in this country. 

The tables and figures are impersonal, merely black and white representation of the cold facts.  By looking at them, they appear to just be a jumble of numbers, albeit incomprehensible to some.  In contrast, the pictures would immediately leap at you.  You see dilapidated nipa huts with wide-eyed children peering out of windows.  You see pictures of bare-*$$3d, barefooted children, with protruding bellies that seemed an ironic representation of the hunger that beset them every day. 

Samu't-saring Produkto at Kwento sa Women's Market

Imagine this picture in your head: women, from different parts of Mindanao – some from some obscure sitio in the mountains of Lanuza, Surigao del Sur; Some from the hinterlands of Agusan del Sur, of Bukidnon, of Misamis Oriental; Some, from a coastal community in Davao Oriental; And some, from a small island facing the Pacific, in Hinatuan, Surigao del Sur.

Ibuan Visit

I looked in consternation at Nanay Gloria who seemed to be “gliding” up ahead. In contrast, I trudged along, feeling my lower limbs getting heavier and stiffer by the minute. I tried to ignore the discomfort I was feeling as I tried my best to catch up. But, how can one catch up with a 54-year-old woman – with seeming wings on her feet - who have walked the same path day in and day out for as long as she can remember? :P

Of Rain and Hearts

The rain is beating hard on the windshield and I noted with irony how Parokya ni Edgar's take on Apo's "Pumapatak na Naman ang Ulan" is blaring loudly from the car's stereo. Forest is snuggling on my lap. Rod is leaning against my left shoulder. Janin and Mama are seated right at the back. As Tatay and I sang along to the music, I acknowledged the feeling of contentment that washed over me...

I felt grateful for everything: for the comfortable ride that's protecting us from the rain and making our going home not at all that difficult. I know a lot others are less lucky than us and had to endure getting soaked while trudging through flooded streets. We passed by a taxi driver getting out of his unit to check on it. Tatay and I both remarked how difficult it must be for all taxi drivers who had to endure the scorching heat of the sun the entire day only to get wet at night.

Most of all, however, I was very grateful for my family and the fact that we are all together. I was even grateful for the music and how it helps foster that atmosphere of togetherness. We were listening to the entire “Kami NAPO Muna Album.” I could go on and on as to how great it is but that’s a different blog altogether, not to mention, that a lot of raving reviews have been written about it since its release.

Today is Valentine’s Day. For all the hype about it, I can’t help but be among those who marks the date as a “special occasion.” But, if only for the fact that it provides one the venue and the excuse to once again fuss about one’s loved ones.

I’ve been very busy for like forever. I don’t see myself slowing down for another decade or so (God-willing). That is why I look forward to “special dates” to allow myself some breathing space and spend some “extra” special time with family.

These days, the demands of work and other preoccupations could easily take a toll on one’s relationships. Often, we lose sight of the things that really matter like health and family. So, yeah, others may call it corny to celebrate Heart’s Day but if it gives me an excuse to make extra effort to show my love and appreciation for my family and the people that I care about, then I’d take being corny and cheesy any time. After all, what other people thinks doesn’t really matter. Family and relationships are what matters most. That, and their knowing full well how much they are valued and appreciated by me.

Happy Heart’s Day family and loved ones. You certainly mean the whole world to me though I maybe too busy to tell and show you that everyday.

To my family and friends, thank you for the conversations, for the love and the time and the memories. Let’s set aside some time from our busy lives to re-connect once again :) But the good thing about good friends and one’s family is that you don’t need to see each other often just to know that you can always count on them and that the love is there.

To Tatay, thank you for the flowers this morning and the movie date last Sunday. Thank you for taking the time, everyday, just to tell me how you find me in your eyes. Thank you for letting me be who I am and for letting me pursue all the things that matter to me. There may be times that I feel that being married is “crimping” my style, not giving me enough time to accomplish all my work concerns. The truth is, you are my wings. You take care of some of my responsibilities just so you could allow me to pursue what I’m passionate about. You are the greatest running buddy there is, both in the tracks and in life. Thank you for supporting me in more ways than one. I love you.

To Mama, there are no words enough to capture the gratitude I feel for your simply being who you are in my life, in our lives. I love you more than I can show you how...

Weaving Dreams (Why I Love my Job)

True, there might be days (like today) when I'd feel as if there is nothing but endless work deliverables. If truth be told however, I certainly wouldn't want to be doing anything else. Development work can indeed be very taxing not just to the body, and not just emotionally but your soul gets bruise every now and then as well. This morning though, something happened that again reiterated to me why I chose to be involved in what I do and why I wouldn't want to be anywhere but where I am now.

We are on a monitoring visit, visiting one of our Partner NGO's area of intervention. It wasn't the first time for me. I've visited this particular site several times in the past. What makes it special this time, however, is the fact that I am with two photo journalists who are also from Davao. We have an upcoming event come March and part of which is featuring the lives of some women farmers and women fishers. This morning, we are there to interview one of those women.

Without necessarily pre-empting the whole thing, Manang Dolores' story is really compelling. Hers is that of a single mother, giving all she's got in order to ensure the well being of her children. Living in the rural areas, the opportunities are not exactly abounding. She had to make do with subsistence farming in order to make ends meet. The good thing about her -- and the number of women like her in their area who involved themselves in rubber farming -- is the fact that they did not just stop and contend themselves with what life dishes out at them. Instead, they started creating opportunities for themselves and for their families.

During my first visit in the area I was already amazed at the kind of spirit that these women have displayed. But my admiration for them grew even more when I got to know them more intimately.

Rubber is a long gestating crop. With proper handling and following the right protocols, one can only start earning an income from it after five years. That's long alright, especially when viewed against the daily subsistence needs of the children and families of these women. Feeding their children is a daily concern. Sending them to school is a daily concern as well. Attending to the well being of their families is something that these women contend with everyday. It is not something they could postpone for five years -- the same amount of time they would spend waiting for their rubber trees to start becoming productive and bringing in income for the family.

And yet, despite this, these women persevere. After attending to daily household chores, they would walk 2 to 3 kilometers in order to visit their farms and tend to their growing rubber trees. One of the women even shared to me how precious their rubber trees are to them. She pointed out that at times, she had to leave her little children behind just to tend to her rubber trees. That made me wonder. How come these women put so much value on their rubber trees so much so that while they obviously have certain misgivings about leaving their children behind, they would do so, just so they could religiously tend to their rubber farms. Then I suddenly remembered attending several FGD sessions with these rubber farmers (both women and men) a few months back. I remembered how a good number of them have shared that for them, the rubber trees are their "ticket to the future." A good number of the participants had then shared that they look at rubber as something that would ensure the future of their children and even that of their grandchildren. To these women (and men), the rubber trees hold far more significance than its promise of income in the next five years.

I can't help but admire as well our partner NGO for having successfully instilled such value into the people in the community. I've seen several projects and programs in the past and instilling this kind of ownership in the partner communities is something that I very rarely see. More often than not, the energies of the people are only fuelled by their sense of obligation or some kind of gratis to the organizations funding their projects. Once the organizers leave, the projects also die down and the energies of the people are no longer sustained. But this, this is different. The people are totally sold out to the intervention and are giving more and more of themselves into the activities of the project.

I thought to myself that the reason for this is simply because to these farmers, the rubber trees represent their dreams of the future. It was impressed upon them that if they will not do their share, give their best, there is no way that these dreams will ever materialize. These realizations made me appreciate more our Partner NGO's efforts. It made me realize as well how development work, when use properly, can really motivate people to work hard for their dreams. If one manages to do that, to convince even one person to do just that, then I think he had already accomplished more than enough.

It had been said before and several times already in the past but I will nonetheless pen it down again: that development work is really not just about handing out formulas or "solutions-in-a-box" to people to help them achieve success and improve their quality of life. This experience taught me that teaching them how to dream, and to impress upon them that they also needed to invest in that dream by giving all they've got in order to achieve it, is actually doing them more good and would eventually lead to creating a greater impact in their lives. I salute the kind of development workers who are mindful of this and who dedicates time and effort into the whole "enterprise." To me, they are dreamweavers, planting dreams into the heart of people and teaching them to once again hope in the future...

Tired...

Exhausted. Physically. Emotionally. And in Spirit. At one point this afternoon, a woman with such a pure heart made me cry. The rawness of her gratitude, her sincerity and simplicity struck me to my very core. Before I knew it, tears have spilled from my eyes before I could control it. Then, only to have all of that dashed down because of one insincere, inept individual.

I don't have to apologize for trying to do a good job. If it affects one so much, that's not my problem any more. Life, as we know it, is breaking down right before our very eyes. It is now the moment for reckoning. Can't we just let go of all our selfishness, defensiveness and try to live authentically? We don't know when and how everything will be taken away from us. Can we just forget about self-preservation and think of others as well? I try to understand a lot of things, or persons' motives or what drive them to do things that are hurtful and uncalled for. But then again, that understanding does not necessarily have to mean I would just sit down and let them tear down my spirit... Please, just take your drama somewhere else.

Thank You!

Forest milestone:  She said "thank you" today.  Although it sounded more like, "tenchu" I was so happy to hear her say the words :) She would have to improve her comprehension though since she said it while pretending to give me something.  Repeated it for like 6x hehehe Maybe she's expecting me to say it and was just mimmicking.  She must have learned it by watching us.  

Brilliant girl you are turning to be, Baby Forest.  You bring us so much joy... Thank you :)

My Entrepreneurial, Five-Year Old Son

I was bent over my laptop trying to work on a report and totally exhausted when my five-year old son approached me and said, "Nay, Lola and Ate gave me money!" He then laid down next to my laptop a five peso coin and one peso coin. Without missing a beat he spread out his three-compartment small bag (an attachment to his Tatay's mountaineering backpack) in front of me and began his litany: "Nanay, this one (his lola's pau de arco ointment) is 5 pesos; this one, (efficascent oil) is 2 pesos; while this one, (a varop rub) is only 1 peso! Pa-haplas ka na, Nay. I know you're tired. Bayaran mo lang ako!"

I smiled wryly at him and asked if I could get it for free as I was indeed very tired and I'm his mother after all. He paused for a minute, probably thinking things through before saying, "Ay! bayaran mo lang ako!" When I did not say anything, he let out a sigh and said, "Sige na nga. Pero sandali lang ha? Kasi tired naman ako hilot kina lola." Huh!

I remember that only that morning, he and his cousin Janin, again set up a DVD-for-rent stall in front of our house. I watched in concern as they amateurishly tied our only umbrella to our gate just so they would have some sort of a shed as they diligently "manned" their stall.

He had tried it twice before and there were no takers. I have prayed hard in those instances that he would be able to make a sale so that his little entrepreneurial heart would not get broken. Still, the afternoons have come and gone and still not a single customer. I think it was not helpful that there are just 6 occupied houses on our street. And, most of the house owners were gone for the day. It could also be that no one really took him that seriously, thinking he's just playing pretend. On those times I wished that I could just rent out the DVDs for his sake but I hesitated, noting how smart he is and that he might not appreciate the gesture.

When he set it up again that morning, I felt relieved at the thought that the previous experiences did not discouraged him at all. I certainly admired his fortitude. The admiration soon doubled when out of the blue I distinctly heard his loud voice, calling out in a "sing-song" manner, "DVD's for rent!" I almost toppled over in laughter. I remember thinking, "This kid is really something." He wasn't discouraged at all. Not only that, he also thought about changing his "marketing strategy" hehe I suddenly had to remind myself that my son is only five years old.

I tried to recall what got him into it when I remembered it all started two Christmases ago. At that time, thanks to his Lolo (father side) and Lola (mama), he discovered the wonderful world of... "retail." I was adamant at not introducing him to the "power" of money so I never gave him any. I try to anticipate what his needs would be and so I had them at hand at home. That way, I wouldn't have to visit a nearby sari-sari store and have him see me buy stuff. But lo and behold! I did not know until it's too late that every time he visits his Lolo, one of their favorite past time would be to go to a sari-sari store so he could choose anything that he wants and have his Lolo buy it for him. On top of it all, he would leave the house with some "baon" in the form of money in his pockets. Always, his Lolo's parting words would be, "Yan ang money ha? Bili ka kung anong gusto mo!" Huh! Mama was no different. A bit subtle but equally as damaging.

And so, that Christmas, he had been asking me to buy him some stuff and more. It's either this toy or that, this candy or that. Wanting to educate him on the value of money, I introduced him to the concept of "earning" them. I told him I'd buy him the things that he needs and some of his wants as a gift. For all the other things that we wants, he would have to earn money for them. Recalling that now, I'm not so sure if it was the wise thing to do. He was only a little over three years old at that time. That would have been too early for his young mind to absorb. But, I knew I had also tried my best to be subtle about it.

Christmas is usually the time when we'd go to DAP office where his Godparents mostly are. We would usually go there so I could leave my gifts for my own inaanaks. That is also the time when we'd find his gifts already waiting for him, some from Ninangs in the office and some, left by his Godparents that were former DAPpers . I thought it perfect to have him bring a bag of candy with him so he could "sell" these to his Ninang's for a small amount. I knew my former colleagues would understand and would play along.

We had a field day then, trying to pick up from the grocery his "perfect" product. I thought candy was inappropriate. At the same time, buying biscuits would be too bulky and too expensive. In the end we settled with "Flat Tops," a chocolate candy hehe And so there he was, not shy at all, approaching his Ninang's to sell them chocolates. I guess he enjoyed the experience so much that it got stuck.

Haaay, I don't know where all these would lead to. I just hope that I could guide him along accordingly. He knows about the value of saving and he's good at it as well. I just hope that I could educate him on how other kids don't have it quite easy. I also certainly hope that he wouldn't grow up to be so gungho about money. I love the fact that he's entrepreneurial even at an early age. I'm just not too crazy at the thought of having him like money too much. What I really want is for him to appreciate how working hard has its rewards. So, help me Father God!

A Day in a Life (Late Post)

Holy Wednesday 2011
Hinatuan

I could feel my sweat literally traversing down my spine. Some “droplets” are forming over my forehead. The overhead fan is doing very little to help ease the heat. Still, it’s slightly better over here than when we were out at sea earlier. The sun had been relentless. The not-so-good-thing was that the banca we hired for the activity had no roof at all. So there we were, getting baked as we made our way back to the town proper of Hinatuan.



I arrived here Monday night. Yesterday, we visited the island of Mahaba. Today, we went all the way to Cabgan. I’m here for work, a writing engagement. I’ll be coming up with two stories featuring a day in a life of two women here in Hinatuan. It’s in conjunction with what I’m doing for Women at the Center, a climate change adaptation project concerning women. The stories we are going to write now will feature what constitutes two women’s everyday life – that of Nanay Nida and Nanay Aida. Nanay Nida hails from Mahaba while Nanay Aida is from Cabgan, both island purok’s here in Hinatuan.


Both visits yielded a well of inspiration for me. There were a lot to be learned from the stories of both women. However, what struck me the most during my visit in Mahaba was the attitude of the children there. Particularly, that of Nanay Nida’s which I think could be attributed a lot to her kind of parenting. In the course of our conversation with her, she would often remark at how she had a lot of things to do -- having to help her husband in augmenting their household income and owing to her involvement with the organization for women – and thus she had to teach her children to take over some of the hings she needed to do a home.


Needs vs. Wants. The first thing I noticed about the kids are their eagerness to help their parents – in doing the household chores, and most specially in shell gleaning (“panghinhas” in the local dialect). At one point while we were doing the photoshoot, one of Nanay Nida’s kids refused to participate in shooting the part where the kids fetch water. He stood his ground and said he wanted to gather shells instead.

In hindsight, he must have known full well that it is the height of the low tide at that time which is perfect for shell gleaning. Delaying a bit more would mean not finishing up till noon and that would have been too hot to do any gleaning. But I did not know it yet at that time. All I knew is that the kids seems very eager to do the task and I wondered a lot about what their motivation was. I watched closely as the children eagerly and very diligently comb the shallow waters of the atoll, stooping every now and then as they collect shells. In just a short time, they were able to fill a very large pail with shells. Again, I wondered what motivates them to work so hard.

My immediate thought was that they would probably be earning something from it. I thought they probably get a share from what they'd earn from selling the shells and thus the eagerness. I was surprised when later that day I was told they do not get a cent out of it. Apparently, the kids hand whatever they earn from shell gleaning to their parents. Yup, every cent of it. And they do it not because they were forced to do it. They just do it naturally, even joyfully and most specially, not begrudgingly. I was told that once they hand over the money to Nanay Nida, they would only ask for some money to buy bread for themselves. Yep, just bread. The whole thing blew me away.

It is such a far cry from what I know about the kids back in the city. The kids back home are not like the kids in Mahaba. Well, most of them at least and this includes my son. My 5-year-old son is entrepreneurial. When school was through, he set up a DVD-for-rent stand outside our house. I watched in amusement as he prepared his collection of DVD cartoon originals and a sticker ID he stuck to his chest bearing his hand-written name. I watched as he prepared his water bottle and some hand-fan. When he saw me eying these, he immediately retorted, “Baka mauhaw ako, Nay and para di mainit.” I did not have the heart to point out to him that his stand is just a stone’s throw away from the house and the water dispenser.

Anyhow, unlike the kids back in Mahaba, my son’s perspective is that his earning is his own. I do not blame him though because his motivation is that his Nanay doesn’t buy him everything that he wants and so he had to earn money. Anything he earns he keeps. Some of it he saves while the rest he buys the stuff I wouldn’t buy for him like game cards. For the kids in Mahaba it is different. They knew how difficult it is at home. Their parents have to work hard so they could afford to buy rice and other things they needed for the home. The difference between them and the kids I know is that they work hard so they could buy the things they need. My son does so he could buy the things he wants.

Not having things easy. Yup, the kids in Mahaba don’t have things easy. And fetching water is just one of them. The kids and/or the women – including Nanay Nida - had to do some paddling for quite a distance in order to fetch drinking water from the other side of the island. And they would have to do it at a particular time – when it is high tide. Doing it during low tide meant the women or the children would have to carry a heavy container filled with water while trudging over a very muddy path, sinking as low as thigh-deep in some parts of it. It also meant they would have to struggle in carrying their banca – probably stuck in “dry” land – back to much deeper water.

That’s what happened to us when we did the photo shoot. We had to linger for a while in order to take the pictures and thus the water had receded a lot farther than we have anticipated. Being unfamiliar with the path, we had to endure getting stuck knee-deep in the muck. It felt squishy. Half the time I was filled with an uneasy feeling, not wanting to know at all what kind of organism is stuck in between my toes hehehe

We were almost where our banca was when the photographer remarked how he would not look at turning on tap water the same way again and I so agreed with him. Indeed, there are a lot of things that we get so used to that we simply take them for granted. We do not know that in some obscure place somewhere, some people don’t have it quite easy.


To have and to hold. Cabgan is another story. What struck me the most was the relationship between Nanay Aida and her husband. When the couple was introduced to us, we were informed that while it is going to be Nanay Aida’s first time to be featured in a story, her husband, Tatay Milo is not new to it. We learned that he often gets invited to national conferences and even had his story featured in a book. I smile now recalling how, upon the mention of the book, Tatay Milo got his copy of it and showed it to us. I knew that he took a great pride in it and who wouldn’t?

In the course of the conversation, it was pointed out that it is Nanay Aida’s time to shine this time. That’s when we learned of her reluctance to go to Manila for the launching. The stories will be featured in an advocacy campaign to be launched there in June. Nanay Aida said she doesn’t want to leave as she had a lot of things to attend do – their seaweed farm and their home. She said that what she hated the most about leaving is how the work gets piled up upon her return. She pointed out that she’s the lone female at home as all her children are boys and as they are, they would just flit off to their tasks without minding the household chores. This was not lost on me. It is indeed most women’s dilemma. Once they get very active in activities in their community, they would have to contend with household chores waiting for them at home.

Anyway, we soon find out that Nanay Aida’s day unfolds very early. She had to do the cooking and tend to the chicken they raise for "special occasions."  As their house is directly on the water, the cages of the chicken are located in some kind of a veranda just outside their kitchen. A few more steps away is where they keep their banca. A little further on is where they dry their seaweeds and where Nanay Aida’s potted vegetables are found. They also have a mini sari-sari store and Nanay Aida had to tend to this as well.

As we went about with the photo shoot and the interview, I learned that seaweed farming is a family activity. Nanay Aida and Tatay Milo go to their seaweed farms early in the morning. They would inspect and clean every line to ensure that the seaweeds would grow very well. Unkept farms would mean the likelihood of having the seaweeds contaminated by certain organisms that attach to them.

I watched as Tatay Milo and Nanay Aida both lowered their banca to the water. I noticed every nuance – the way Tatay Milo held out his hand to Nanay Aida so he could help her keep her balance as she lowered herself to the banca; how Tatay Milo first paddled them towards their seaweed farm located at a distance from their house; and how Nanay Aida took over the paddling so that Tatay Milo can raise the lines and start cleaning the seaweeds. Watching them was like watching some kind of a choreographed dance number. They’re so used to the task --having done it a thousand times by now-- that they readily know how to compliment each other in accomplishing it. It felt nice watching them. It’s as if they are illustrating what true partnership should be.

Once back at the house, Nanay Aida, Tatay Milo, and their two grown sons went back to tying seaweeds on the lines stretched in front of their house. I watched as they sat a few feet apart from each other and diligently get on with the task. The topic of Nanay’s reluctance to go to Manila was again brought up. The COs assisting the community were jokingly enumerating what Nanay Aida would experience should she agree to go to Manila – sleeping in a nice hotel, meeting some of the celebrity who will be attending the launch as well and the chance to ride an airplane. At this, Tatay Milo shared how it was for him the first time he rode an airplane. He laughed as he recalled being reprimanded for trying to pass through the x-ray machine as they made their way inside the airport. Yup, they were that naïve. The good thing about Tatay Milo was that he wasn’t embarrassed at all by the experience. He shared everything to us good-naturedly. He even shared how they also stepped on the scale along with their bags at the airport's check-in counter.

Yes, again, not a lot of us have things very easily. Some of the things we take for granted are for some a great privilege already. On that note, I was once again overcome by the feeling of gratitude. I counted my blessings and one of them is my being there to hear about other people’s story and to learn a lot from them.

They were almost done with the lines and about to move on to the other task for the photo shoot when Tatay Milo was asked whether he agreed that Nanay Aida should go to Manila for the launching or not. He replied that if he is to have his way, he would want her to go to the launching so that she will have a chance to get exposed to a lot of things. He pointed out that it is different being stuck in the island. He said that her going would mean affording her the chance to expand her world and see more than just the four corners of their house. Now, that is my kind of guy... unselfish and truly loving…

Ushering in Summer

Had a chance to work at Eden.  Had the kids and Tatay come along after the workshop.  I needed a quiet place to rush a very important Baseline Report due the next day.  Might as well have him follow me than we go and look for some place else.  We paid for the overnight stay and while I still had to work on the first part of the night, we had a blast the next day. Grateful for the opportunity.

Rod making a wish: Sana healthy si Nanay sa travels niya
and magkaroon kami ng maraming pera. 

Finding Mr. Right

“If you have to convince him that you are absolutely right for him, then you’d better start walking away.”

I came across this article of the same title while I was still in the hospital two weeks ago. It wasn’t really of interest to me but as it was the only reading material available at the time, I did not have much choice. The article was well-written however that I immediately found myself enjoying reading it.

The article was typical – it sought to answer what must be one of the most important questions that single women have on their minds – “How do you know if you’ve found Mr. Right?” There were five “signs” indicated there but I found sign no. 1 as the most “significant.” Certainly, it struck me the most and I couldn’t recall having read about it before.

“You would know if it is Mr. Right if he totally believes you to be his Ms. Right.” That was sign no. 1 or words to that effect. But that’s not what really struck me. It was the sentence that came after it that did. It said something like, “If you have to convince him that you are absolutely right for him, then you’d better start walking away.” When I read that sentence it felt pretty much like a “light-bulb” moment. It made so much sense.

Typical scenes like women totally frustrated over the men in their lives immediately came to mind. I recall a particular infatuation in my not-so-immediate past wherein I was totally convinced that he is the right one for me – having the same interests, both being opinionated and not afraid to express what we feel about things, and totally passionate about the things we get ourselves into like music, nature, physical pursuits and relationships. We were also both emotional and it’s apparent in the letters and e-mails we exchange with each other. Not to mention the long hours spent chatting and making long distance calls.

But I was much too young then, and very much infatuated that I did not know how to handle the “relationship” well. Until, I found him just slowly drifting away. The e-mails came less frequently, the calls too, until everything just stopped. It took me a while to fully comprehend everything. I could not understand how come everything would come to a halt when he seemed so right for me.

In my mind, everything was so magical – we would exchange emails of pictures we took from our latest climb or nature adventure; I would send him letters bearing the answers to the questions he had laid in his letter that has yet to find its way to me and vice-versa; He would share with me his enthusiasm for a movie he just watched and I would be giving him a complete run-down of the book series I’m currently hooked into, making him love the characters as much as I do. In other words, it seemed to me that we have the perfect formula for the right kind of love – the fairy-tale kind that one usually gets to read in books and see in the movies. At that time I was completely convinced that he was Mr. Right. Apparently, he does not quite think the same way I do.

And it took a while before that particular “detail” totally sunk in. Being convinced that he was the right one for me, I immediately assumed that he thinks the same way too. His moving on to another relationship, however, told me that wasn’t quite the case.

Fast forward that to two years down the line and here comes this person so totally different from me – we don’t like the same music; He doesn’t read books and is not articulate; We both love nature but for him it’s the adrenaline rush while for me it was for the clarity of thought and introspection that afforded me; I shy away from the crowd while he totally basks in the attention. In other words, we’re as different from night and day.

And yet, from day 1 there he is, totally convinced that I’m the right one for him and did not waste time in letting me know exactly how he thinks so. He bombarded me with calls (drop calls to be exact which was quite the thing before for those who are afraid of wasting their cell phone loads away hehehe He is that “kuripot”) – and would suddenly show up un-announced in my doorstep. Every chance he get, he certainly made his presence felt.

I remember how friends would call me just to inform me that they found him braving the heat of the sun, riding his mountain bike just to bring me viand for lunch. True enough, as soon as I put down my fone, there he is handing me the all-vegetable dish he cooked for me. I was purely vegetarian at that time and he would bring me food knowing it would be difficult for me to source out purely vegetarian dishes near the office. Over the years he would be like that. Colleagues would remark about a blouse I’m wearing and how the design is so “me” only to be surprised when I tell them it was Tatay who bought it for me as a gift. In other words, Tatay knows me, and put a lot of thought into what I would like and what would make me happy.

Oh we fight a lot and there are days when I would wail about how insensitive he could get. In fact, in the earlier part of our marriage our “battles” would be phenomenal. It’s understandable given how different we could be. It took a while before we were able to “fine-tune” everything. Now, we still fight but not nearly as explosive as before. We have come to know each other deeply and know what would rub the other raw and thus avoiding them altogether, or at least try to avoid them, most days hehehe.

When I had my recent CS operation, I woke up to find him at my bedside totally concerned and relieved at the same time. He told me how scared he was – seeing me literally writhe in pain, knowing full well I have such a high threshold for pain.

In the following days after that, I saw him being mindful of everything, answering my needs; seeing to the papers and documents needed; sourcing out blood and medicines for Baby Forest; arranging things for our eldest Rod’s orientation week at school; going to the bank and even seeing that our utility bills and housing bills get settled on time. It was no wonder he would collapse right next to me in my hospital bed at the end of the day totally exhausted. And yet, that would not stop him from rising again the next day and doing the same routine all over again. When I had to come home and Baby Forest was left at the hospital, it was him mostly taking care of our needs – seeing that I eat on time, and bring my expressed milk to the hospital twice a day until I was well enough to go there with him and feed Forest myself.

Even now, our days and nights could be long with Forest’s needs to see to. There’s Rod to be taken to school early in the morning also. Last week, I had an engagement for three days straight and he made sure everything is smooth and easy for me. It is him who also tended to Baby Forest at night, waking me up only when it is time for me to feed her.

The other night I woke up to find him snoring silently beside me and my heart reached out to him knowing how exhausted he must be. I appreciated him more for not hearing him complain one bit about it. I looked at him and felt grateful for all the things that he had come to represent in my life. And I said to myself, he is indeed my Mr. Right, not so much for all the things that he is doing for me and our family but simply for “knowing” me.

From the day we met, he already had an inkling as to what I would mean to him. Over the years, he had come to know me better and even valued me more and did not rest until I know exactly how he feels about me. Over the years he had shown me how he knows full well what I need, want and feel without my having to express them. This is telling me that while he might not say it, I know that he thinks about me and the kids a lot. Otherwise, he wouldn’t be able to anticipate our needs and wants…

As I stared at his sleeping form, filled with so much gratitude, he stirred beside me and opened an eye. Seeing me fully awake he looked at me imploringly, expressing in words what I was silently telling him – “I love you, Nay.” He reached out to touch my cheek and said, “Love kaayo ta ka…” and then went back to sleep.

I love you very much too, Tatay. Thank you so much for everything. In a few days we will be celebrating our 5th Anniversary. I look forward to spending many more years with you, with us both helping each unfold our own, individual truths, and become even better persons…

Post-comment:

Here’s an addendum to the five signs indicated in the article, my own personal opinion:

You’d know that he’s the one if both of you are growing in the relationship, becoming better persons, giving each other wings and not dragging each other down. If you’ve become petty and less loving (not just to the significant other but to the persons around you), then you’d better start thinking things through…

This had been my personal “yardstick” over the years. When I feel that the other person is starting to drag me down, I let go of the relationship no matter how painful it may prove to be. True, it may take me awhile before I’d be able to bounce back from the loss and the pain -- Jeni, my ever constant BFF have been a witness to this hehehe -- but the unfolding of my own truth is important to me as well. I know the relationship is not good when being in it is starting to feel like being tethered. While my "enduring" attitude would want me to stay for a while, in the long run, I'd know deep down when is the right time to just walk away...

Being Schooled on Men's Perspective About Marriage

Reposted from Facebook notes

My day started quite right today. The highlight of which was to see my son’s expectant, beaming face looking straight at me when I looked out the window of the taxi to take another look at them. I had to cross the street to catch a taxi ride to the hotel. They had to go the other way since Tatay and Baby had to take my niece, Janin to school.

I wasn’t really expecting to see them still looking at me. I was surprised to find out that they were. The instant I turned to them, both kids’ faces lit up and they waved enthusiastically at me. It made me feel cherished and I realized once again that at this point in my son’s life, I mean the world to him. It affirmed as well that my niece needs me too. Next to Mama, I am her mother now.

Fast forward a few moments after that and I am in the van already, along with an all-male, senior engineer participants for another interesting infra-related training. Every engagement I have is always a learning experience for me but I didn’t know that that morning, I’ll be schooled on husband-and-wife relationship as well.

It proved to be quite refreshing since I’m hearing it from the males’ punto-da-vista. I was interested in what they have to say so I did not volunteer any of my views. I just sat there, smiled and laughed silently when the exchange would become very funny. Every now and then they asked me out of courtesy, “Totoo ba yung sinasabi namin, Ta?” But I would just say, “no comment.” It was obviously a “for-the-boys” conversation and I knew they did not really expect me to share my own views. Besides, that would have just ruined the whole thing anyway.

On the wife respecting the husband. This had always been a touchy topic as far as the women are concerned. I knew my girlfriends and I have had a lot of discussion on the subject and it’s always on where one should draw the line between respect of oneself and that for one’s husband. It’s quite refreshing to hear about it from the husbands’ perspective.

They were sharing concrete situations with one another. One shared how an officemate’s wife would make a scene every time she would come across their group of friends and find another woman in their midst. It wouldn’t matter if the woman is someone else’s girlfriend as long as her husband is with the group, she would readily assume her to be his. Everyone was in agreement that that was a foul thing to do and that the wife is showing disrespect to her husband by creating a scene in front of his officemates.

The one who related it – a senior officer and someone whose presence commands respect – shared how he talked to the wife and pointed out that she had to show she respects her husband by not putting him in such a situation. He told her how it doesn’t matter what she’ll do to her husband when they are already on their own and in the confines of their own home but that she should accord him respect by not making a scene when they are in public. He also shared how he pointed out that her husband is not exactly good looking to be able to warrant attention from other women. That made me laugh, not so much because I imagine him to be “ugly” but because that is the same line Tatay would give me every time I would voice out my doubts on what he’s doing when he’s out with his friends or when they have an outdoor activity. On those occasions, he had to do some sleep-over’s or wouldn’t be home till wee hours in the morning. He would always tell me that everybody knows he’s married and that he’s not exactly Aga Mulach in order to attract other girls.

Anyway, the conversation when on and there were other situations shared on the matter. Everything all boil down to one thing – the husbands actually values what the wife say, they are in fact, in a way, “afraid” to warrant her “wrath” but for sure, they would certainly appreciate if wives accord them with respect. They dislike being ridiculed in public, particularly in front of their friends or officemates. In my opinion, I think this isn’t too much to ask of the wives. Every human being, after all, ought to be accorded with respect.


On relationship with the in-laws. This, I certainly appreciated since I definitely learned something new from it. One of the participants shared how he and his wife have this “technique” that they apply to ensure that both of them have a smooth relationship with their in-laws. He pointed out that his wife is not a Muslim but hails from Dipolog. (This is worth noting considering that all of the participants were Muslim and majority of them have Muslim wives as well.) Definitely, the difference in culture comes into play and I was glad to note that in their case, it served to enrich the marriage more than being a source of conflict.

It was related how it had become their practice that when the husband’s relative come asking for some financial help, it would be the wife who would give the money and vice-versa, even if the money really comes from both of them. Also, when the wife’s nieces and nephews would come to visit, it is the husband who would give them their fare back home, etc. He said I think it’s a good idea in that comments such as, “Makunat yang asawa mo” even when said in jest, would be avoided.


On Financial Matters. One shared how an office mate have no idea how much his salary really is since it is the wife who comes to the office to get it every month. So whenever it would occur to them to eat out or drink, that officemate would always beg off since he had nothing to chip in. And so they advised him not to divulge some cash he would be receiving like “token” from office transactions or from some other source. They would tell him to leave the money in his drawer in the office so that the wife will not know about it.

I thought then how sad that is, having to resort to that, not being totally open to one’s wife. I think, both of you doesn’t necessarily have to agree on everything but it would definitely be sad if you have to keep things from each other. It speaks a lot about the kind of relationship you have and the trust you have for each other.

The men went on to expound on the importance of having money of their own. They said that this is felt when their siblings or relatives come to them asking for financial help. They relate how difficult it is for them to ask their wives for some money knowing full well that the one they gave their wives are already budgeted for the needs of the family. This sure made me think. I think they definitely have a point in that.


On vices. The conversation then turned to vices. One related how he would come home bringing ice cream, cake and chicken even if he just lost in a betting game of “sabong” (cockfight). He said this way, his wife would not complain about him losing thousands in gambling. He pointed out that for the wife, losing a thousand in gambling is a big issue already, and would immediately say the money would have been better spent in buying rice or food for the house. I smiled at this since it’s indeed a very common “wifey-reaction.”

Another one volunteered how he and his wife never had a quarrel when it comes to sabong. He said he makes sure of this by separating a separate “account” for his gambling activities. He said it is also one way of managing the vice since there is always the tendency to even bet one’s “kaldero” when worse comes to worse. He said he hands his “sabong” earnings to his wife also, separate from his salary which is intended for the household budget. He explained how he asks his wife money for gambling from his “sabong” account. This is where he also gets funds for the fighting cocks he maintains. I thought how wise this kind of set-up is and I admired the person for having thought of it.

One of the guys said the common reason why the wife complains about vices is when they hear the husbands losing thousands and then note how they would refuse the kids who would ask them for a few hundreds to buy projects for school. All of them agreed that this should not be the case. I raised an eyebrow when one pointed out how some of them would readily hand a “ka-table” 500 pesos for just a few moments of… err… “skin-touching.” However, they soon regain my respect when they said this shouldn’t be the case and that they should be more generous to their children.


The conversation ended with that as we have reached the training venue already. I was grateful for everything that had transpired. I was glad to have learned about the men’s perspective on what was discussed. It was… good to be in a company of mature men who have had enough experience in marriage to be able to give all those insights. It made me realize that the women do not have the monopoly of “great” ideas where relationships are concerned hehehe. Because, I must admit, before that incident I was putting much value on the women’s role as “ilaw ng tahanan” thinking that we are more insightful and sensitive about things than men are. The experience taught me that indeed, man or woman, each of us have a contribution to make where making a marriage work is concerned… We should take advantage of both our strengths…

Deserving

“The officials don’t know how we are struggling to live in the communities. They sit comfortably in their air-conditioned rooms and all they care about is politicking and money.”


This, from the mouth of a civilian volunteer, working on the ground, actively monitoring the atrocities committed against civilians. He showed pictures and videos taken of very young children, women and men killed and being hit by bombs and stray bullets because they were suspected to be fleeing “renegades.”

The video was graphic. My heart got wrenched looking at tiny children lying on the ground, lifeless after the boat they were riding on was hit by a bomb. I identified with the grandmothers and mothers who were mourning their death. They were crying and wailing. I could only imagine the extent of the pain they are feeling. I am a mother and my heart would lurch in pain just to see my son hurt himself mistakenly in play. How much more for these mothers who have lost their sons in a senseless war?

The words of the civilian volunteer resonated within me. Having the work that I do, I’ve been exposed to a lot of things. (Not even half of all that he had seen) And indeed, there is a big difference between seeing what’s happening on the ground firsthand than just staying in an air-conditioned office and debating about these matters theoretically.

I felt the same frustration and resentment that the volunteer felt for “politicians” up there who think of nothing but enriching themselves and taking advantage of the power that they yield. They are so far removed from the realities on the ground that they could think of nobody but themselves and furthering their own self-interests.

The election is just around the corner and I’ve seen candidates debate on issues – mostly bordering on the personal and other trivialities. I cant help but be cynical noting how trivial their concerns are compared to those that the people at the grassroots had to live with everyday.

I sit here now and wonder -- how many of these candidates deserve the seat they are aiming for? How many of them have the heart, the wisdom and the sincerity to be able to give the position they will be occupying justice? How many of them are aware that when they “court” the people to vote for them, they are also playing with their emotions, stringing along the people’s aspirations and dreams?

True, the government could only do so much. All of us must work hand-in-hand in order to achieve, a just and humane society. And yet, individuals who have the nerve to declare themselves as candidates – who spend millions in campaign materials (when they would be put to better use addressing the needs of the 600 thousand IDPs in Central Mindanao) – also have the responsibility to do justice to the position they will be occupying.

Leading the people especially as fragmented, as multi-sectoral, multi-cultural, and as broken as the Philippines is such a grave responsibility. It's a wonder to me how a lot of them are risking their necks for the post.

I am praying that whoever wins is truly the most deserving and equipped. God help the Philippines, particularly Mindanao.

Baby Overspends

Today, all Level 1 “babies” went to SM as an extension of their lessons on fruits and vegetables. They were brought to the fruit and vegetable section of the grocery. The teachers walked them through the aisles, telling them the names of the fruits and vegetables displayed there.

Prior to the activity, a letter had been sent to the parents to inform us of it and to ask our consent for the activity and for allowing the kids to make a purchase. When it was settled that they would be making purchases as well, Tatay and I sat Baby down and tried to set some limits. The letter had said to put money in the pocket of the child and to be on the safe side, Tatay and I agreed that 100 would suffice. But, at the same time, we also agreed spending the whole of that wouldn’t be good either. We don’t want Baby to associate “buying” with spending everything that he has. We want him to experience paying and then getting some change back.

However, it wouldn’t be the first time for Baby to experience paying for purchases. I’ve allowed him to do that several times in the past. Those times when what we were paying for were items that he chose by himself – some biscuits, choco drink, milk, or carefully-chosen toys. In all those instances, he had gotten some change back and every time, he would give it back to us. (He isn’t this good at all times though since while he does return the change every time and readily gives me his baon every time I ask for a loose change for fare, he has this bad habit sometimes of picking up coins lying in the house without asking permission and take it as his own. Tatay and I are working on it.)

Anyway, I had a training and had to work so I was not able to go with him today :( Tatay was there though and I insisted about his bringing the camera. Last night, we sat with Baby and told him to limit his purchase to just two – one fruit and one vegetable. Since his favorite fruit is mango, we agreed that that is what he would buy. One mango. For the vegetable, his favorite is squash but thinking it might be too heavy for him to carry, I asked him to just buy ampalaya for Nanay to which, he agreed.

When I came home for lunch today, Tatay told me how the teacher had to call on him to augment Baby’s money since his purchase totaled more than a hundred. I was surprised to hear about it. Our conversation had been clear. I wondered what happened.

Tatay told me that instead of mango, Baby purchased a pack of fresh strawberries. We had feared this would happen and made it clear beforehand to Baby that he should purchase his favorite fruit, mango, regardless if his classmates would buy strawberries. And yet there he was. When I asked him about it, he immediately reasoned out, “Mango man sana yun Nanay pero nagliko naman kami (with matching hand gesture of “liko”), malayo na sa mango kaya strawberry na lang.” Tatay told me his classmates also bought strawberries so I figured they probably stopped there and so he opted to buy one also.

As for the vegetables, true enough, he bought ampalaya for me hehe Tatay told me he saw him picked the strawberry and thought that was the end of it. He was surprise to find out at the counter that he indeed bought ampalaya and a pack of large onions, the type we usually use for cooking pasta at home. When I asked him how he managed to carry all of it, he gestured, “Ganito, Nanay,” interlacing both of his arms, holding them close to his chest and crouching over them. It wasn’t hard to imagine how it must have been hehehe

Haay I was really sorry to have missed another milestone of Baby’s because of work but I’m glad Baby is so expressive, I have the pleasure of sharing good “after-the-event-conversations” with him each time this happens. Thank you, Father God that my little one enjoyed his trip to the grocery today, for how Baby is turning out to be, and for that little conversation he and I shared. Oh, and for Tatay who is always there to lend a hand :)

On Respect and Sensibilities (Being Culturally Sensitive)

Are Muslims considered IP’s?” The moment the resource person voiced that out in front of purely Muslim participants, an atmosphere of “discomfort” permeated the air. I felt uneasy and I’m sure some of the participants did also. To their credit, the participants took the question at face value. One of them explained that Muslims are more of a “cultural minority” than an IP.

That was not the first time in this training that I noted how a lot of us here in Davao could still learn where being “culturally-sensitive” is concerned. I want it clear that I am not passing on any judgment. I do not take it against the RP that she had to ask that question. To her, it was an innocent inquiry. It was pretty evident that she simply does not know and had to clarify that since it had something to do with her lecture. Based on how she proceeded with her lecture, it was obvious that her original thinking was that Muslims are really considered IPs.

In the same training, another RP had repeatedly coined a certain reference document as the agency’s “Bible.” And twice made the gesture of the cross when during the open forum, a few participants raised questions about certain practices in their locality and how these were bordering on the illegal. I knew the RP just did not know any better and it led me to wonder how many of us here also do not.

I am lucky since my work exposes me to a lot of groups. Not only does it add more to my knowledge, I feel that it also enriches me as a person. It broadened my horizon and freed me from the prejudices introduced to me in my youth. I became aware that there are belief systems and practices that are entirely different from my own. And that being different does not necessarily mean something is wrong with the other’s beliefs or practices. We are just different, period. And being so, one does not necessarily have to be better than the other.

In one of my work engagements, one participant took time to explain to me what Islam is all about and I fell in love with it. Dabbling with meditation and yoga also introduced me to Buddhism and Hinduism. They’re both equally beautiful belief systems. And I guess it is understandably so, because God is beautiful, no matter in what form S/He may choose to represent Himself/Herself.

I am not perfect. I still have aversion to certain things and situations. But being more aware, I am now able to step back, examine my prejudices and label them as what they really are – baseless, ignorant assumptions. Every person, regardless of color, religion, sexual orientation or preference is worthy of respect. We have no right to pass on any judgment. At the same time, we have the responsibility to try to learn more about the people we closely deal with. We have to take time to know what would adversely affect their sensibilities and try our best to avoid these. I am thinking, if only all of us would bother to do so, this world would certainly be a better place for everyone. (And I can't help but think of this in the context of Mindanao)

Being a mother, I’m thinking of raising Baby being aware of these things very early on. I don’t want him to grow up passing judgment on others. Especially so, that he is growing up where he is – a melting pot of different cultures. It is difficult though. As it is, on the issue of gender sensitivity alone, it is already being tested everyday. He came home one day telling me, “Nanay, di ba okay lang sa boy ang pink? Di ba okay lang ang Dora?” Then he related how a classmate of his told him he is gay because he asked permission to play with her “pink” Dora toy. It’s a good thing he still comes to me to relate all these things. That way I could still reinforce the things I am trying to teach him. What then when he is out there and would be bombarded by views that are not entirely correct? What if he would stop coming home to me and ask my opinion?

It’s a good thing that right now, my son still looks up to me and believe what I tell him. I know there will come a time that he would be forming his own views of things. I could only pray that among these would be the grain of truths I wanted to impart to him. Oh, but life is beautiful. I know it’ll find ways to enrich my son’s own in ways I could only imagine for now.

All About Baby

Baby came home yesterday bringing with him a small plant sowed on a clear, plastic cup. We were having lunch, me making the most of my time with him before I return to the training. His Tatay urged him to show me the different parts of the plants. Tatay related to me how Baby had been talking non-stop on their way home from school about the different parts of the plants.

Baby then turned to me and said, “Nanay roots ito,” pointing at the roots visible from the plastic cup. I nodded in response. Then Baby added, “These are the leaves,” this time pointing at the plant’s clump of leaves. Noticing that he missed out on the stems of the plant I asked, “What are these then?” Without missing a beat he answered, “Tingnan mo yung folder ko, Nay. Nandun kung ano tawag dyan,” making reference to their assignment folder which outlines the lessons they have every week. Hahaha!

These days, how Baby could communicate so well never fails to amaze me. There was one instance when I called home to ask Tatay something when it was Baby who answered. It turned out that somebody called me up at home and he very clearly told me, “Nanay, may tumawag sa ‘yo kanina dito. Sabi ko wala ka, nagwork. Tawag daw siya ulit.” It completely blew me away. I know it’s expected of three-year olds to be able to express themselves already. Still, hearing Baby communicate sans his usual, broken lines but still in his cute, baby voice could really tug at my heart. It must be a motherly-thing.

His logic is also faultless. One time I got irritated to find out the laundry is all over the floor and was urging him to help me put them all in the hamper. He readily helped me but while he was stuffing in the laundry he told me in his cute voice, “Nanay, sunod, sabihan mo si Tatay siya magpasok nito kasi siya man nagkalat nito, hindi ako.” Imagine that, coming from a four-year old.

He also has perfect taste (hehehe). I was tying my hair, getting ready for the Christmas Mass when Baby came inside the room and told me, “Wow! Nanay, ang cute mo.” He was looking at my dress. It was a new dress, bought with my “newly-acquired” pregnancy in mind. It had spaghetti straps and a very low neckline. To cover up, I put on a tube blouse underneath. The dress was really pretty, completely feminine and I was surprised at how he openly expressed his appreciation for it.

I was wearing the same dress last week but at that time donned on a short-sleeved tee-blouse underneath. I was tiptoeing inside the bedroom so as not to wake him up when I heard him say, “Nanay, sando lang isuot mo inside, ‘wag yan.” I nearly jumped but was really amused to hear him “advise” me on what to wear. ‘Seems like, I now have an in-house fashion consultant. And a four-year old at that.

Baby is indeed expressive and I find it truly refreshing. Last Sunday, we were settling down to sleep when he turned to me and said, “Nanay, masaya ako kanina sa binyag ni Baby Koi2x.” Eric’s youngest got baptized and the family spent lunch together at the reception. The venue’s ground was large, covered and with huts dotting the place. He and Janin had a field day running all over. When I asked him why he was happy, he replied that it’s because he was able to play with his Ate.

I am truly grateful for moments like these with Baby. I am grateful knowing how he’s turning out to be. I love the fact that Baby is open and expressive about his feelings. It is telling me that somehow, we did something right in rearing him up since he had no qualms about expressing anything to us. To me it means he feels confident enough to do so.

I am wondering how he is at school though. His teacher had told me he appeared shy and reserved. I guess it’s understandable really since he is not so used about being with other kids. He’s more used to hanging around adults. In fact he feels so much at home with my friends and showed every indication of how he considers himself very much part of the “barkada.” And yet I would very much want that to change. I want him to be confident around his peers as well. That is another reason why I’m grateful for this pregnancy since it’ll definitely be helpful to Baby to have another sibling.

Oh, and one last detail.. last night while lying in bed I told Baby how his Teacher Rose congratulated me for my pregnancy when his Tatay and I went to pick up his card for the 3rd grading. The smile he gave me was so huge, obviously happy at the news. He then sat up in bed and stoop to my bulging tummy. Making sure that his mouth is where my navel is (he believes this is where he should talk so his baby sibling could hear him), he whispered, “Baby, teacher ko yun siya, kaya huwag kang matakot sa kanya ha?” hehe Baby’s really so sweet and smart. I’m so grateful I have him.

We are One

“Mao ning panghitabo karon, ang mang-uuma wala na’y gikaon”*

I sat in the middle of the “peacetival” listening to a group of community peace advocates sing about the current plight of the farmers and I felt tears at the back of my lids threatening to fall at any moment. I can’t help but note the irony of it all. The very ones who toil so hard so that we could enjoy having food on our table have nothing to eat themselves.

Here we are, complaining sometimes at the increase of the prices of commodities. We complain about the hard times but we fail to think about the plight of the common farmers out there who had to toil so hard and yet hardly had food for themselves or their families.

I remember this one particular experience… Tatay and I were climbing Mt. Apo with a group of our friends. We had been walking all morning and it was already lunch time. We were famished, it had been a long walk and the sun was scorching. We were at the boulder part of the Kapatagan trail, close to the sulphur vents. The peak is in sight, but from experience, we knew it will still take us another three to four hours to reach it. Meaning, we would still have the whole afternoon of trekking ahead of us.

Wanting some rest and food, we settled on a spot close to a big boulder that is providing us some shade. There were six of us there as some were still on their way up to where we were. As we settled down to eat, I had to reproach Tatay for not praying. Holding up a piece of string bean (as vegetarians, that is what we had for lunch, adobong sitaw compared to our friends’ adobong manok hehehe) – I pointed out to him that it took some backbreaking days for some farmer before it found its way to our lunchboxes. It was all said in banter and we were all laughing at that time but I was dead serious about it. And so we prayed. We expressed our gratitude for every individual responsible for the food finding its way to us. We prayed that the energy from all of those individual acts would nourish not just our body but our spirit as well.

It would seem pretty “stuck up” I know, but how often do most of us take a lot of things for granted? We turn our blind eye on the little details just because we wanted to remain “cool,” “less-nerdy” and detached. But if there is one thing I learned, it’s that in the “circle of life,” there is no such thing as “detached.” We all belong to the same circle, we are one.

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*That is what is happening these days, farmers have nothing to eat...

Bread and Cheese (On Motherhood As Well)

“Di ako kain kanina Nay, nagcolor lang ako.”

When I heard this, I immediately hugged Baby out of pity. I felt so much for him. I figured (knowing full well his impatience when it comes to coloring) that he probably did not finish a coloring activity and thus was asked to finish it before given snacks. And by the time he had finished with the coloring (if he had), it was probably time to go already.

They are given free snacks in school. It is such a relief since it spares me the everyday task of thinking of suitable snacks for him, not to mention additional cost. And it is usually part of our everyday, “How-was-school-conversation” – what they had for snacks.

While I told him he ought to learn his lesson and finish his coloring so that he could eat along with his other classmates, my heart was actually breaking. Especially so when I learned he was the only one who was not able to eat. My heart broke again when he answered, “Bread and cheese” to my inquiry as to what his classmates had.

I knew he ought to learn his lesson about completing his tasks and yet, I feel somewhat bothered that he was made to feel left-out. That and the fact that he probably felt hungry by that time already.

It breaks my heart to picture him totally left out. It would have been better if he had another classmate with him… Arghh… Baby has really started with his journey. While I may want it differently, it is impossible for me to be with him every single second of the journey. I could only hold his hand at certain times. At this moment, it meant for the most part. But somewhere down the line, he would be all grown up and would be on his own… While I could insist to be always in the picture, I know I wouldn’t really dream of doing so. It is why I am adamant about “training” him, teaching him independence, giving him every opportunity to make use of his initiative… It is because I am preparing him well for the time when he would want to venture on his own… Now, why is my heart breaking at the thought?

If I could have my way, I would always want to be a part of his life. I would want to be a part of every milestone he may take. Not that I want to be in control of everything but that I would very much want him to ‘invite” me to be a part of it all… to share “almost” everything with me. If only as a confidant, a sounding board, a consultant, a friend… a person whose opinion he values the most…

I am now forced to look into my own relationship with my Mom. Do I invite her to be a part of my life? Or do I go my own way, insist on living my life my own way? Mama and I always have such phenomenal disagreements. And time and again it is always due to how she could be overly critical of everything. That and the tendency to just dwell on the negative, on the shortcomings and the worries. I love her very dearly and understand her most of the time but it had also been a constant wish that she sees past the negative… Mama is not quick with the praising. Sad, but I could not recall a single compliment coming from her. I would like to stress that all this is written in an “observing” manner. There is no censure or any bitterness for my part because certainly, while “very good! Well done!” might not be a part of her vocabulary, she is one of the most selfless person I have ever known. She always overextends herself… she would do everything she could for the persons that she loves… There is no tirelessness in her. Her demeanor when it comes to her family is always that of servitude. And for that I am and will forever be grateful.

I am just made to reflect on the being “overly-critical” part because it is the primary reason why I always hesitate to share with her my innermost thoughts or take steps at making her one of my confidants. It’s because I fear being criticized again or be misunderstood and be reprimanded instead of being encouraged… I wouldn’t want to have that with my son. I want him to see me as someone he could totally trust with anything. I want him to feel that he could be very raw with me, be at his worst and know full well that I love him no matter what. I know that this love I feel for my son is the same love that Mama feels for me though I may see it differently at times.

It takes reflecting on the matter to put everything in the right perspective. As always, writing and reflecting makes me understand things the more, and enables me to look at every situation objectively. Now, an earlier disagreement with Mama is slowly being devoid of its “sting.” I understand her more fully now. And I value her more fully now that I am a mother myself. Her being who she is – both the good and the “not-so-good” traits – is teaching me a great deal about being a mother. It is guiding me as to what I should aim to be, hope to be and work out to become…

Here’s a toast to all the mothers in the world. I know that while none of us may be perfect, nothing could ever compare to the kind of love we feel for our offspring. I think it’s a sliver of God’s love personified…

Organizational Skills

Baby is such a naughty three year old. It concerns me at times, observing how he derives so much amusement at making fun of people. By “people” I meant his lola’s, his cousins, his Tatay and myself. His laughter (which is so amusing in itself) would fill the house after he’d pull a prank at any of us. At times like this, I would tell myself how it all seemed so cute now, hearing his laughter, watching his face fully lit up by mirth because he’s still a three-year-old kid and looks totally adorable. How about when he is much older? Would I find it amusing by then?

And yet, on the other hand, there is also no denying how Baby is also displaying everyday how he is a responsible, dependable person. At his age, he is able to dress himself up everyday for school. He puts on his socks, shoes… insists on putting on his sando and buttoning up his polo. When he arrives home from school or from outside, he knows where to put his shoes or sandals, and where to look for a change of clothes. Also, I think one of the first words he ever uttered was “LAUNDRY” hahaha! After changing out of his clothes, he goes straight to the hamper with them. There were times when he gets distracted by play and would just drop everything but these cases are more of a rarity than the usual.

There was this incident one time wherein I was picking up after him in the car. He sometimes has this habit of spreading his toys in the backseat and play while we are mobile. At that time we were nearing our stop and I was in a hurry to get moving. He was coloring then and I immediately scooped up the box and placed it inside his backpack. He was probably watching me intently, noticing how I did not insist on his picking after himself. He scolded me – imagine that – and pointed out how the crayons should be placed at the outside pocket of his pack and not inside. He said that his extra clothes are there and might be soiled by the crayons. I felt sheepish and resolved not to let my work or appointments distract me least I would not be able to set a good example again.

The other day, he asked for some pretzels after spending half an hour at a kid’s playroom. I was hungry myself so I relented. Again, I was on my way to another appointment. I was distracted, my mind already getting ahead of me. I stopped short when he called after me and said, “Alcohol please Nanay, kain na ako.” (I want to eat already)

Earlier tonight as well, I was cleaning up the shoe rack and he was right beside me, excited with rediscovering his old slippers and shoes. When I noticed Tatay’s carelessly discarded used socks, I groaned out loud but did not say anything. I just continued with the cleaning. We found his old pair of Crocs and were in a “negotiation” mode as to whether or not we give them away to any of his cousins. Knowing him, he had attachments to his things. He is always loathe to part with them. I had to reason with him patiently why they would be put to good use when given away than just wasting away. At these moments, I am also somewhat reluctant to insist about giving them away. I feel that I also ought to honor his feelings. When he is really adamant about holding on to a thing, I would always let him have his way and yet firmly pointing out to him that he would have to part with it when he is already ready to let it go.

I was already preparing him for bed when the “socks incident” surfaced again. I was surprised to learn (though by now, I should have known better) how he seemed to notice everything. He suddenly said – “May isabi ako sa ‘yo Nay” (I have something to tell you, Nay) He then stood up and leaned towards my ear and whispered, “Pagdating ni Tatay, pagalitan mo siya Nay, dahil sa socks niya.” (When Tatay arrives, you scold him Nanay for his socks.) He whispered it so softly that I had to have him repeat it to me. I was so amused by it. In response I asked him where Tatay should have placed his socks. And without missing a beat he replied, “Laundry!”

Again, these incidents have me feel so blessed to have Baby as my son. He does have his moments. He could be super hyper, being all-over the place and leaving me quite breathless and exhausted. He could also be quite a rebel too, insisting on not following the colors of his “Copy the Color workbooks.” Even when the page would scream “red” for the apple, he would insist about coloring it violet or whatever color he may fancy. Also he would give me the opposites of the answers to the question I would ask him, demonstrating to me quite clearly his intelligence. Like when we had discussed siblings and how a girl sibling is called a “sister” and ‘brother” is its opposite. When I asked him about it afterwards, he would insist that he is a “sister” to his “brother” Ate Janin, the whole time smiling mischievously.

Earlier also, when we encountered the word, “germs” in our reading and I asked him about it, he naughtily replied it meant, “malinis” (something clean) knowing full well it is the other way around. At moments like this, I am always torn between being amused and indignant. I know he is testing his limits with me, pushing further his boundaries.

Once again I feel blessed to have Baby. I could not thank God well enough…