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

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...

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…

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…

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.

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...

Tired.

Came in from two sleepless weeks of doing technical writing work. Had a workshop that is supposed to be till tomorrow but I have to cut it short and bring someone else in for a prior commitment made which will require my services starting tomorrow till Sunday...

Well, I am grateful for the blessings since work in a way is a blessing and I always have the option to turn them down... Oh well, I did but they still want me anyway, which is a privilege really....

A Different Breed

Last January 3 I attended the internment of Tita Owa, Jeni's second mother and a well-respected former director of NEDA XI. A week before that we were at her wake and were amazed at the outpouring of sympathies shown the family through the flowers sent and the countless number of visitors who came to pay their respect.

The tags from the flowers indicated that they came from "big" personalities, key players who play equally big roles where development of the region and of Mindanao is concerned. Noting this observation, I remarked to Jeni that Tita Owa and Ate Ditdit -- who went before her (and the others whom I was not fortunate enough to have worked with) -- were really of a different breed. Their working style was different. Their love and passion for Mindanao and their role in it very much apparent. I guess it is the same passion and love that fuels the "working style" being displayed.

Working style. I think about my own working style, my inconsistencies at times -- displaying sheer brilliance and commitment now and then falling short of that in the next instant as I try to juggle being a "passionate" development worker, a mother of a three-year-old son, a wife, being the only daughter.. a niece of an ailing aunt... I remember my moments of "ineptness" (which does not occur often, I hope) and my excuses for them and think about how Tita Owa, Ate Ditdit, and the others like them, managed to do all these things all at once and still remained on the top of their form. I feel a bit of a shame at the thought.

Only a while back I put down the phone feeling utterly disappointed and a bit disgusted at being confronted by "ineptitude" in one of its rawest forms. It's a long story and I don't want to divulge the details but it entailed some "dishonoring" of commitments. It cost me much -- my time, opportunities I turned down, and well, income I have been counting much on. But that wasn't as nearly painful as the knowing that things are not as what they used to be, when integrity and commitment were upheld with the highest regard.

I am not saying I am better than they are. I too am guilty of ineptitude every now and then. And I could only speak for myself -- that every time this occurs, I am ridden with guilt, try my damnedest to pick up where I left off, and remind myself I am not just selling pancakes on the street but is playing an important role -- no matter how minute -- in this field called "development work."

I long for the day when work was tough but was very much rewarding, knowing full well you are making a kind of "contribution to life" somewhat. Now, I'm surprised to be working with some people who claim to be working for Mindanao but shows no "soul" or the "heart" for it. Again, I am not saying I am far better than they are. I have my own struggle with myself, as imperfect as I am.

I guess I really just miss the likes of 'Te Ditdit and Tita Owa who were awe-inspiring, whose display of commitment is a constant reminder to people like me that we ought to work harder, better and with utmost integrity because this kind of work that we do deserve no less than that.

I am still very much in an uphill where emulating their example is concerned. But I am comforted with the thought that I do not have to fill in their shoes (which were both big and noble) but should only be concerned with filling in mine. Being the best that I could be -- in what I do, in playing the role entrusted in my care, in fulfilling His plans and purpose for me -- is my primary task. And it's such a tall order already as it is... I am grateful for my mentors though -- eternally will be -- for their examples, for showing me how things ought to be done... May their souls be at peace...

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.

Sleepless in Sea... of Documents

Feeling light-headed. Nope, it’s not so much out of giddiness but rather due to lack of sleep. Slaved over a report till 3:00 AM this morning. I wasn’t even finished yet at that time. I was down to the very last session, wrapping up the documentation. I tried to write some more but my eyes seemed to have a mind of its own. Try as I might, it refuses to open well enough for me to see the screen of my computer decently. And so I slept.

Woke up a little before 6 AM and it’s straight to the computer for me. I finished the documentation part and then proceeded to tabulate the pre and post assessment results. Next came the course evaluation itself. It’s what I’d call the “dirty-job” part of technical writing – having to manually – encode 1 by 1 – each item in the assessment form. I love the analysis part. I thrived in the challenge but I’m normally not used to doing the tabulation all by myself. (tongue in cheek hehehe)

So it’s quite refreshing really to be doing everything on my own… it’s teaching me a great deal about patience… and humility haha! I must admit though I’m such an unwilling student hehehe There are times I would feel irritation at the thought of having to tackle admin jobs. I just don’t have the inclination for it.

But ah.. dislike it I might, I know I had to take on the job, learn my lessons fast so I could move on to the next. The sooner I get the message and learned the lesson, the sooner I’ll be over it. And that goes not just to doing and changing my attitude towards admin tasks…

Mayon in the Twilight

With the first day of training successfully concluded, Juliet, Te Mameng and I walked back to our hotel feeling content and just a little bit tired. The response of the participants was good. The weariness, more than anything else, was due to the lack of sleep (in order to catch the first flight) and the difficulty sleeping in a new place.

Back at our hotel, we deposited our things and traded our shoes for slippers. Then we trudged back where we came from to catch the jeep bound for Camalig. It took some time for the right jeep to come along that we had to ask some locals if we could indeed take a ride for Cagsawa there.

Yup, Cagsawa was the desired destination that day. Juliet and I had already been there. The visit was more for Ate Mameng’s benefit since it’s her first time in Legazpi.

As expected, having to commute takes so much time. We had to snake through the streets of Legazpi and Daraga before we reached the highway leading to Cagsawa.

It was already late afternoon. The whole experience reminded me so much of the time I went to Miag-ao Church in Iloilo when I was feeling apprehensive about the fading sunlight and how it would very much affect the pictures I wanted to take. This time though, I was feeling less apprehensive. Pictures or not, I am just thankful to have the chance to see Mt. Magayon (as the locals call it) again up close.

There was a point in the busy streets of Daraga when there was a break in the buildings and Mt. Mayon showed herself to us in her full glory. Ah, how beautiful she looked, how majestic.

We where already on the highway when the landscape changed drastically. The buildings and the structures gave way to a big expanse littered every now and then with dead, leafless trees and destroyed, abandoned houses.

Juliet turned to me and informed me that an entire barangay was totally wiped out during a typhoon that hit the province following the recent explosion of Mt. Mayon and we’re looking right at it.

The contrast leaped at me. And I could not help but note with irony how something as beautiful as Mt. Mayon could also be a source of so much destruction.

When we reached the corner of Cagsawa we alighted and began our walk towards the “park.” The place looked desolate in the fading light. What used to be a populous area is covered with mounds and mounds of black sand – lahar. We had to pass by several “mini-streams” and had to cross a shaky piece of coconut log over a raging river that wasn’t there before, in order to get to the ruins. The belfry still stood there but the church ruins where we had our pictures taken before could no longer be discerned from the piles of sand that covered it.

Most of the nearby structures – canteens, inns and big houses lie deserted with their caved-in roofs hanging at the rafters. With the darkness creeping all around us, everything started to feel a bit creepy. No, it’s not really that. More like, there was sadness in the air.

The first time I was at Cagsawa, it never occurred to me that I’m going to see it again in this state. A friend in Legazpi pointed out to me that what happened to Cagsawa now in a way corrects history. She said that the history books stated that the ruins in Cagsawa came to be because of a great explosion by Mt. Mayon sometime in the 1520’s. But with what happened recently, the experience pointed out that having the whole town wiped out was not caused by the explosion itself but the surge of water and deposits from Mayon following a ravaging typhoon. And she’s probably right. Amazing huh? Indeed, life is cyclical… History keeps repeating itself…

Legazpi is a special place for me. Not so much because of Mt. Mayon but because I have come to love the place for all it represents. I’ve encountered a lot of people through the work I do. But the “Albayons” to me are among the happiest people I’ve met. They just laugh more often and always have a joke or two to tell. I think this is a special trait, considering all the hardships that they had to go through every year, being ravished by typhoons every now and then.

If I would bank on my belief of the law of karma then I’d say I might be tied to Legazpi in some “karmic” sense because here I am, drawn to the place. Never did it occur to me that I’d be frequenting the place to render some service of sorts. And yet here I am…

Whatever it is then, I hope to get as much learning as I can from my work in Legazpi and from the people I meet there. As it is I am already learning that the human spirit is pretty much like Mt. Mayon in the twilight – that despite the fading light and the destruction all around you, one can still stand strong and majestic, conquering all storms that may ever come one’s way. Just as the people in Legazpi remain happy and content despite all the hardships they had to go through.

Those that I work with are “development workers” as well. In Legazpi, “development work” entails having to rush to the aide of those affected by typhoons, Mt. Mayon eruption, flash flood and having to deal with victims from wiped-out barangays. I could not imagine the anguish that they might face and how these people could leave their homes also affected by the calamities in order to help others. And despite all that they still remain happy persons, with healthy, joyful countenance.

It’s a reminder to me and my tendency to be upset when things don’t go my way. Lately, I have not been my best self. I have so much expectations of Bolo as a husband. And when he fell short of those expectations, I make sure that he knows about it. I also make his life hell for a while hehehe hmm.. somehow I’m often angry these days, sometimes, even a bit bitter. Yeah, so unlike me.

I think I certainly have difficulty adjusting to married life hehehe That’s the only reason I could think of for being this way these days. I guess all the responsibilities overwhelmed me.

Marriage, indeed , is such a daunting “state of life.” There are just far too many adjustments that one had to make. Oh, it’s not all hardships of course but somehow it’s the “hardships” that leave the best impression.

I pray to remain beautiful inside amidst everything I have to face these days… I pray for focus and clarity of thought. After all, Bolo is such a beautiful person really. He makes me laugh with his sincerity and his “innocence.” Actually, come to think of it, it’s not his fault really if I have such high expectations. It’s my problem not his. And to give him credit, Bolo indeed tries so hard just so he could give me my whim which is just childishness really. Blame all of that to my romantic inclinations and wanting to keep that burning even if our relationship had already evolved past that.

Come to think of it, what more could I ask? Bolo still sneak up to me bearing long-stemmed roses on his back on special occasions. He would come home wearing that sheepish smile on his face, being pleased with himself to have found me a real nice “ukay” blouse. He would cook for me and my friends and do it without shoving it to my face that I owe him big time for that (unilke me hehehe).

Oh, paying the bills, sometimes being short of cash, and not being able to buy the things I want, are “unpleasantries” of married life alright. But I just would have to remind myself constantly that they are not all there is to what Bolo and I have. There’s baby of course, who’s the consistent neutralizer. His smile is enough to wipe all worries away.

Homesick

I made it to the interview and barely made it to the airport to catch my flight. Thank God! Now here I am feeling nostalgic and emotional. After a late brunch at 4:00 PM I loitered the streets of Legazpi to look for an internet cafe to download some important files I'll be needing when I stopped right at my tracks.

The buildings looked familiar... And then I realized, just up ahead is where Bolo, Baby and I stayed during my first trip here. In fact, the cafe I'm at now is right at the street next to the very hotel we were billeted before -- the corner of which is where Baby and I bid Bolo goodbye as he boarded the tricycle that would take him to the terminal. Unlike us, he would be taking the bus back to Manila. We were trying to save. There was a big difference between the bus fare and the airfare.

I'm remembering how emotional that night was, as well. Bolo and I were constantly texting each other. We were constantly reassuring each other and exchanging exciting messages about seeing fire sliding down Mayon's slope hehehe.

I miss my son.... so much... but I won't think much about him. Besides this is hardly the time to given all the things I needed to do for my task here and my job back home. There's no sleeping for me here...

Ah this is one of those days when I'd wish I'm filthy rich. That way, I could still get to do development work, feel good about myself and be fulfilled. At the same time, I could afford my husband and son's airfare and accommodation... What could be more better than that? To be able to impress upon my son my passion for development work? And to present him one option of how he could choose to live his life... Not to mention, I could get to do the thing I love most but not be separated from my family.

Family. Meaningful work. These are two things I value the most at the moment.

I miss you Baby, you have no idea how much Nanay wants for you to be here. I love you. This is the first time since I had you that I won't be sleeping next to you and it's breaking my heart to pieces...

The Weekend

At 7:45 AM this morning, I was already facing my computer, finishing up the letter I was drafting last night, sending emails and making phone calls. Yep, on a Sunday. I have my misgivings alright, especially when I'm feeling some pain in my abdominals and lower back lately. But I'm not complaining really. I had to do what I had to do. I have just one week to prepare for a training I'm running and there are a still a lot of things that needed to be done.

It does not feel like a weekend at all. Saturday morning I was on a meeting too. In the afternoon I was back to facing the computer and fixing materials and sending e-mails. I capped the night by making online hotel reservations on the hotel for the Legazpi trip I'm taking this month also.

This weekend wasn't just all about working though. Actually, at 3:30 PM earlier, the whole "clan" were already headed to the beach for some bonding time. We had some kinilaw, sinugbang (char-broiled) fish and some meat, and fruit salad. Enjoyed some red wine too and some leftover Cadbury chocolates courtesy of Ate Gaga. At one point I thought wistfully about having some cheese too to go with the wine. But the company and the time spent with family more than made up for the "humble" fare we had.

I also appreciated the experience very much since it gave Baby the excuse to run and play for the entire afternoon. I thought he would still be a bit fearful of the water just as he was over at Canibad but I guess the presence of his other cousins enjoying the water made him want to join in on the fun too. So there he was, rushing to the coming tides and playfully scooping down some water. Several times he fell on his butt but he just continued playing. He sure was having so much fun that I was again sorry to not have a camera at hand. Yeah, it was very much unlike me to not have one. A cousin borrowed it and so I was not able to charge the batteries on time.

After we've cleaned up Baby and have him changed into dry clothes, he behaved for some time while I was feeding him the avocado he loves. I think its a good thing that he likes avocado. He sure could do with some source of fats. His milk being soya, he's pretty lean compared to other babies his age.

Soon after that, there was no containing him. He had a field day chasing after his soccer ball with his cousins even when it had started to get dark. Where they were playing was quite a distance from our cottage but it was surprising how he could find his way back to me on his own even in the dark. I think he took after his Tatay's gift for instant recall when it comes to direction. Thank God he did not take after me who's quite clueless in that aspect. Well, I think we have another "guide" in the making. I reckon, a few years from now and we have another "lagalag" in the making =) I'm not sure whether I ought to look forward to that or be fearful of the prospect hehehe

Julia Fordham

Yup, listening to Julia Fordham at the moment. My clock reads 1:38 AM. I've been feeling sleepy since 11 o'clock, I guess. But there are a lot of things that needed to be done. Just outside our room lies a heap of clothes that needed to be folded up and stored in their right cabinets and to think I've started folding up clothes by the time I arrived from my meeting. I only stopped to go down and eat.

Well, so far I've succeeding in neatly hanging some of my "training clothes." Some of Bolo's and Baby's stuff too. I've sorted out my "pambahay," my "for-the-office," and casual-wear clothes. I found out too that I have more clothes than cabinet space. Not that I've been acquiring much lately. Rarely do I find the time to browse and buy clothes these days. In fact, most of my blouses now are Bolo's "gifts" to me -- his "finds." Well, I must add that his choices are not that bad at all, except for those few times he brought home stuff that are either too loud for my taste or were ill-fitting. For the most part, however, he's pretty astute in his choices. It's like he knew full well my minimalist preference.

Hmm... looking back however, I now have plenty of t-shirts too, thanks to him. He's so fond of "climbing," sporty clothes and every now and then he would come home bringing me t-shirts and shorts -- mostly board shorts.

Anyway, how did my day went? Good, I guess. Went back to work despite my OB's two-month rest advice. I had to. I have a training from the 20th to the 23rd and there are a lot of things that needed to be done.

On that note, I guess I'd better call it a day. Better rest now, have another day of work tomorrow. Julia still croons and I'm reminded once again how I like her so much. Used to be so gungho over her during college. And every now and then I would crave for her voice. I had several albums of her in the past. But right now, the only album I have left is her "Collection," which is not bad at all. It is indeed a collection of all her good songs. Hmm.. but is there really any "bad" ones? =)

Ah, this song currently playing, "Porcelain," I really like and not just because it starts with the line -- "I am very much in like with you..." hehehe

I was about to post this blog when "Invisible War" played. It reminds me so much of my relationship with Bolo. Indeed, sometimes there could be just a thin line between love and hate. It's funny really how you could also hate so much the very person you also love very much. I guess it's really because of the vulnerability that loving so much brings. When you love, really love, somehow you leave yourself open and very vulnerable. Emotions are raw, and sometimes expectations run high too. It's no wonder it could hurt so much when these expectations are not met.

Ah, "Love Moves in Mysterious Ways..." Yeah, with my liking Julia Fordham so much, anyone can guess this was played during our wedding hehehe It's not our wedding song, however. Instead, it opened up the ceremony. Our entourage and sponsors marched down the aisle while the choir sang this in the background. I thought it a fitting scoring. Love indeed moves in mysterious ways. Never have I foreseen that everything would end up as it had and not as I first planned it to be.

Oh, there were plans alright. The planning took several years -- two, three years? And yet everything turned out differently. I still harbor a bit of a guilt for that particular aspect of my life. But only because I have no way of knowing if the other's life turned out fine as well... I hope it did... Indeed one could invest so much in making plans and trying to push everything as planned. Still, life could unfold in such a way that one could never imagine... And often the unfolding is good... It is always good no matter how it may seem otherwise at times... Because we have an orchestrator who is good.. all the time... Thank you, Father God.

I'm Not

My clock reads -- 12:50 AM. I find it ironic that I have reached that time slaving over some work concerns when my doctor specifically ordered for a 2-week bed rest.

I have just finished an important report but I still have some work concerns I needed to do tomorrow. A lot had happened this week. Yesterday was the toughest, having found out I was experiencing some spotting.

It was a traumatic experience for me -- to have found blood when I knew perfectly well I am "almost" 2-mos. pregnant. It did not help that I didn't have the support I needed at that time. Bolo was away for some business. For some reason, he is not anywhere where his fone is. Candy's YM status message read, "Sorry, I ran off for a bit." Jeni was unreachable too. Both cases are forgivable though. Even I am guilty of not minding my phone constantly. Particularly when I'm very much busy with some work stuff or "motherly" functions. In either case, checking my fone for messages takes the least priority.

Ah, now I remember and note with some irony how I have happened to pour out my sentiments to an "online" friend. I found -- still find that incident -- totally ironic. There I was wanting so badly some reassurance of some sort. I was desperate for a hug, for a touch, for a physical contact but I got a "virtual" response instead. Not that it wasn't appreciated. I really thanked that friend for being there for me notwithstanding how weird it must have been for her to find out I was having miscarriage-scare and her not being able to do anything about it given the "remoteness" of the situation.

I am still in pain now. I have a nagging pain in my lower back and abdomen. It's not a good indication at all I know on top of the spotting I'm still experiencing. I know I'm risking my baby's well-being for refusing to heed the bedrest advice and tackling work instead. But a part of me recognizes the need to accomplish certain things that I should. Things that are needed. And having to do that, a lot of nagging questions are running right through my head. I'm asking why it had to be this way.

I love this child tremendously. That is something that I am very much certain of. For all my confusion, my unpreparedness, my misgivings, there was never a doubt as to how I feel towards this Baby.

So yes, I'm lamenting the fact that I have to accomplish certain things when I should be fighting like crazy for this Baby to stay alive. I'm lamenting that things have to be this way. So to answer the previous entry's question, I guess I'm not huh? So I'd better do something about that then...

Pancakes for Breakfast

Our bed, which is next to my computer is littered with liquidation documents of all sorts. As it is, I'm trying to sort out everything. Trying to make sense of everything. Haaay there's just too many attachments needed to liquidate a disbursement even if it would only amount to as little as 200 pesos. Now why is that? Haaay I could write a whole account on the matter -- disbursement and liquidation under government bureaucracy. But that could wait for another day. After all I did not want to begin my day writing about my woes.

Very early on I was already busy working, even steeling myself against the wailing of Baby wanting some attention. It's urgent that I finish this now so we could send it out later. This is long overdue after all. I'm not bemoaning the fact that I had to do such a tedious job at an early hour though. It is after all, partly my fault, having neglected to do this a lot sooner than now.

But enough of work. I wanted to write about how grateful I am this morning since while I was going crazy pouring over the documents, B came in bringing with him some pancakes, syrup and milk hehehe Sure did make up for everything. I always loved pancakes (in colloquial term -- "hotkeyk") in the morning (in the afternoon, at night... hehehe) especially if there's syrup to accompany it with. But what I loved about it this morning is that it was prepared by my other half without my having to tell him to. I love knowing that I'm loved :)

Thank you B for treating me to another one of your "fireworks."

"Hardworked" and Loving It

Well, I think sleeping real late is becoming a habit lately. It's now 2:31 AM and here I am, haven't slept a wink. I just finished coming up with a budget for a training program slated for next year.

It was a proposal I sort of took over. So I guess you could imagine how that is. To me, it is always a lot easier if I write a proposal from scratch than trying to adjust one that someone else made.

To begin with, the idea isn't mine. Though I sometimes kid myself and think that I am, I'm not a "manghuhula" either. So in cases like these, I would usually spent ages just pouring on documents, trying to make sense of everything. After all how can I make adjustments on something I do not understand at all?

Ah, but I'm not complaining though. As it is I'm still quite wide awake. I guess I could even say some trace of adrenaline is pumping through my veins at the moment. If truth be told, I'm actually "writing" this entry at such a fast pace than I normally do. The words just came pouring in like rain...

I guess doing all those figures, as usual, is giving me some kind of a rush. Weird huh? hehehe Too much work and then feel the rush? I know I really should be feeling sluggish and tired. Well, I am tired. But I'm wide awake. I guess all those work proved to be some kind of an exercise for my brain thus this "rush-thing" I'm feeling at the moment.

Well, I guess I really just enjoyed being challenged. And having accomplished quite a lot -- being able to sort through an unbelievably, confusing document; come up with a very thorough, very organized work and financial plan -- I think I feel pretty good about myself. It feels good to be able to work out a challenge and conquered it. (That explains my penchant for solving puzzles too -- crossword, jigsaw, u name it...)

Preparing the WFP had been such a mental exercise. I could picture some parts of my brain gaining a few "muscles" for the effort hehehe I think the "exercise" had done me good -- must have improved my "circulation" up there hehehe

But I really should be sleeping already, circulation or not, everyone needs rest. So do I.

Thank you Father God for sustaining me althrough out the task. Thank you for giving me the chance to over-extend myself again and use some of the faculties you've given me. It feels good to have accomplished a lot. Khublei Mo.