Singles for Christ: One Heart in Christ

Just after the Regional Conference for the Singles for Christ of Region 2, I decided to pen my memoirs during this Godly and life changing event which I surely believe are worth remembering for. I’m certain that the lessons I’ve learned will be forever kept in my heart.

Joining this conference was of great decision- making on my part. Knowing that my thesis defense was set the day before the conference made me even more hesitant to join. I had spent many overnights and that added to my hesitation. But through the guidance and help from God, I had come up to a decision of joining the conference.

I arrived at the venue at around 6:00 pm. It was then the preparation for the Celebration for Holy Eucharist. I was reluctant to proceed at the venue for I still have no companion at that time. But God is really good for He accompanied me to the venue. Gotcha! I saw my brothers and sisters from SFC Diffun. In a short while, the Mass began.

Anyway, I’m not going too far anymore. I’m not going through details on how I got there till it was finished. Rather it’s my desire to highlight the moral and invaluable lessons I’ve learned from it.

God is really good. God really provides for we are His creation. He never leaves us behind. At times we may feel we’re alone but that was the time He was carrying us. God is always there beside us. He is our motivator and our ultimate source of strength.

I remember one of the “titas” whom I really look up to who happened to be a Provincial Couples Coordinator and a sharer. She was from Kalinga. As I perceived her, she was not of high rank positions. She was simple and shares the same desire with us and that is to serve God. She may be sitting all day long on her wheel chair but the inspiration she gives makes her even more than just an abled person. She is a real life inspiration that everyone who is losing hope should be clinging to.

I never had any keen information about her. I just know her by name. Why should I exert time doing this well in fact I don’t know any single detail in her life? Why should I spend my time doing this note when I had to code my program? It seemed there was a driving force leading me to do so.

As I try going deeper, I began to appreciate her. I began to realize how brave she was in facing the tough times of her life. I began to picture out the time she had bannered indomitable spirit in bearing all those problems brought by an unexpected situation which I prefer not to mention. Well, her family, friends and of course God had a great role for her strength. And that made me proud of her.

There was also a sharer who really touched my life. She was longing to see her father. According to her, she was still a child when she last saw him and since then, they have no more communication with his father. But because of the advancement of technology, she hopefully searched her father over a social networking site. As she was expecting that she already found her father, a glimpse of hopelessness afflicted her. She was so hopeful to see her father but it was not given. She was very hurt. She even thought of staying away from the community but because of the encouragement of her brothers and sisters, she had overcome those trials. Up to now, she is still hopeful that someday, she’ll meet her father again.

Singles for Christ thought me many invaluable lessons. The community thought me the virtue of patience, forgiveness and praying. I began to forgive those who have hurt and those who have been hurting me intentionally and unintentionally. Anyway, forgiveness is the best revenge you can give to those who have hurt you. I also had developed a praying habit which was a no- no before. I began to be praising God fervently. I’m not saying that I am an atheist. It’s just that I have no close relationship with Him before.

Singles for Christ was also a ground for me to meet and gain new friends who were also hooked in serving God. I thank my brothers and sisters from the community who selflessly shared their friendship. I am assured that somebody is including me in their prayers.

Above all, God through the presence of the Singles for Christ changed my life and my perspectives. The community changed the way I see things. I may not be that holy but I can say I’m good.

I still have more things to talk about my SFC family but I prefer to keep it in my heart. I may not have brought any camera that day but the memories were even more than just a picture uploaded in facebook. I may have some but the rest are memories and lessons. They were left in my heart forever.

 

The 3’o clock a.m. Habit

*** After watching the movie Ghajini, I was inspired to write a short story which genre is far different from what I used to write. It revolves mostly on the life of Janet who entered prostitution in order to support her needs. In the story, Janet narrates everything about her ‘career’ and a few about her personal life. Prostitute though, she was full of dreams and ambitions in life even she knows that her work can’t help her attain those aspirations. Nonetheless, Janet, who has a rational perspective, hopes that someday, she will be able to achieve one of those dreams with the aid of her job. But how shall Janet realize her reveries in life if villains enter the scene. Find out. ***

Lots of light bulbs of different colors make my place warm yet it’s darkened. Lots of flirty ornaments were decorated so as to make my place be patronized by people whose happiness depends on the services we offer. Plenty of table and chairs were arranged accordingly so as to accommodate clients, be it a first- timer or an ‘aficionado’. Cases of hard drinks were always available so as to quench the thirst of people whose problems are temporarily washed out from their mentality once the alcoholic beverage enters theirs mind. Of course, there are also sexy and daring ladies whose make- ups cover the real emotions they have inside. This is how I describe my place, or better yet, my refuge.

Most of people, or let say ‘decent’ people, detest individuals whose work condition is like mine. They always have the conclusion that whores, like me were pests in the society that gradually infects the humankind. They treat us as parasites that needed to be slain in order to prevent infection. They also describe us as home wreckers who are not aware of the consequences that our immorality may bring. They never ran out of belittling words to say just to make us feel how unfortunate we were. It’s really not our fault to be in this kind of condition. If only we have another choice, a better choice, we would undoubtedly grab it instead of enduring the pain, physically and emotionally.

Okay. We may be immoral but our ‘importance’ to ‘whoevers’ makes  me realize that I entered the right ‘career’. People who lust for romance would just come in to our place and we will ‘whole- bodily’, not whole- heartedly give them a service. Married man who are not contented to his better half, or let say ‘worse half’, would find a way to unload his urge for another ‘playmate’. More often than not, some men would even fall in love with a whore and would offer her a more secured life without thinking the history of his ‘newly-found-love-of-his-life’.

Everyone calls me Janet. It’s not my real name actually. It’s been an exercise or, let say a tradition, in every ‘amusement and pleasure houses’ to change the names of their ‘workers’ in which costumers can easily recall. We were even instructed not to disclose any information about us to anyone whom we are giving a ‘service’. Though sometimes, it’s inevitable that costumers tend to be so inquisitive regarding our personal life. In cases that these costumers become so inquiring, I, who never allows anyone to violate that rule, will always win the argument. And my being brave and bold made me appreciated by many, be it my costumers or my companions.

I started being a prostitute when I was 17 years old and I’m now ‘commemorating’ my 6th year in this ‘career’. Young as I was, I learned how to support myself. I felt so shy then for I knew that this kind of work, if it’s really considered as work, was intensely disliked by the society. I knew then that once I entered this path, there will be no other way to regain the dignity I am supposed to have. But I had no choice. I have to earn for a living or else I’ll die having my eyes open. Without any hesitation, I grab for the ‘opportunity’.

My first two months in the ‘industry’ was a disaster. My first encounter was with a Dirty Old Man or known as D.O.M. who ‘tirelessly’ enjoyed his ‘privilege’ as a regular costumer. I was so helpless then. Since I was paid for a ‘short- term pleasure’ and considering the fact that I needed money, I numbly accepted the physical and emotional pain.

As the days passed, I learned to get used to it. I learned to get used to pain, to shame, to anything. I became stronger and fearless that even doing extra services was a big yes for me. Worst of all, costumers who were in the influence of prohibited drug would even insist me to take some of it. Big time businessmen would also invite me for a dinner or trip to somewhere. I also had escorted some traditional politicians who instructed me to act as his sweetheart. And for that, I had learned that some of the supposed public servants who are told to be the role models were dishonest and unlawful.

I just wonder why there are self- proclaimed leaders who still continue their ‘journey’ in politics even they know in the beginning that they are not worthy for the post. These ‘trapos’, as the society call them, can even mislead the people from reality by doing some ‘hocus- pocus’ in their administration. I believe that they fairly deserve the hatred of the mass to them, just like how the society disgusted the prostitutes like me.

There were also clients who just seek for someone whom they can talk with. No bed play, just a conversation. People like them are rare. I admired them especially when they talk about their family- their wife, their children, their parents-in-law and everything. Some would even burst into tears in front of me if they learned that their only daughter was pregnant; that their son who are about to graduate in college was kick- out from school due to misdemeanor; or that his wife cheated on him. In such cases that family is the center of discussion, I become so emotional. I missed them. If only I could bring the past back, I would not be in this situation.

Months rolled over. ‘The business transactions’ in my place become infrequent. Unlike the past months, the income gradually dropped. Only few clients would come in to our place. It was, for sure the effect of the killings reported these past months. The police authority is still in search for the mastermind of all these unlawful death. It’s been reported that it was due to business quarrel of some big time businessmen whose extra income depends on the revenue on human trafficking and prohibited drugs. Anyway, they should exert more effort to solve this crime or else, our ‘business’ would come to its end.

I wonder why there are people who can kill his fellowmen. Are they not afraid of what might happen? Could they still sleep deeply considering that they have taken the lives of people away. Do they not feel any guilt with their unlawful act? There are even criminals who take the advantage to sexually abuse their victims. If they are not still contented, they would even hit or punch the victim that will surely leave a mark on the sufferer’s body. Indeed killers are really merciless. Killing might be their source of happiness or a way to revenge or an outlet of their anger. I’m not sure. Let the law enforcers do their job. I have also a ‘job’. And that is to give ‘pleasurable happiness’ to ‘robust clients’.

In order to get back from the gradual drop-out of income, we think of an idea that will surely grab the attention of our previous customers. We offered extra services and freebies just to attract more and more clients. We never failed. Number of customers began to increase day by day. At 3:00 a.m., customers began to flock and rapidly multiply like a mushroom. It is when the ‘transactions’ become intensely high. It was also then when we coined the term “3:00 a.m. habit”. Because of the great demand, I became threatened that customers might not notice me anymore for there were ‘new comers’ who can do great things than me. I became afraid that my beauty and charm might be ignored for I knew for there were lots of ‘newbie’ who were fresher and more gorgeous. But that thought did not stop me from doing my ‘work’. I did a way to ensure my living. I tried to be more attractive and lustful so as to shift the attention of customers on me.

But our gimmick did not even last for a month due to unstoppable reported human killings. The scare began to spread out like an epidemic disease especially on our part as prostitutes for there were reported cases of whores who were brutally murdered. The police authority had hypothesized that there were two separate groups of killers. The former was a group of businessmen who slay their business opponent and the latter was a group of killers who, most probably condemn prostitutes like me. These murderers were really specialized to kill for it even made the law enforcers clueless about who really the mastermind was. They may perhaps investigate the crime scene meticulously and interrogate each possible witness thoroughly but the killers really never leaved any evidence on the crime scene.

Because of these incidents, some of my ‘co- workers’ decided to end their journey in this career for they were frightened that they may be slain too. Some had even gone to their provinces and started their new way of living. They were still fortunate to have their family who accepted and gave them another chance to change for the better. But I, who will never have a family anymore decided to stay and continue the ‘battle’ of life. The six long years of my stay in this kind of work, which caused me a lot of emotional and physical pain taught me to be stronger and braver. Those spans of years working with different kinds of people somehow help me mend the pain of losing my family. They all died when I was seven years old. We were 5 in the family- my Dad who was then an elite business tycoon, my Mom who was a plain housewife, my two elder siblings and I who was left grieving for their death, their inhuman and brutal death. They were mercilessly murdered and only I, survived. Horribly, I saw how they were killed. I saw the killers, that even these days, it still haunted and awakened me from sleep.

Because of that tragic incident, I was then adopted by my aunt, the sister of my father. The care, love and affection from her which I was supposed to have remained an illusion. She would hardly beat me until her anger fades away. Worst, she did not even let me eat and drink for a couple of days which really made me weak. Because of that, I became determined to escape away from her. Luckily, I got a chance to be free from her when she attended a business meeting with the investors whom my father transacted with when he was still alive. I did not care for the wealth that my father had put in. All I wanted before is to be free and justice for my family. Sadly, I lived in a land where justice is delayed and denied.

From then on, I learned to live on the street independently. I earned a living by asking for alms from the passersby. I also had no choice but to eat the leftovers from the garbage bins. I slept on the ground and endured the mosquito bites and cold until I became numb on it. That was my routine not until I entered the ‘flesh- trade industry’. I also had no knowledge about my aunt anymore. Whatever happened to her and the business she ‘inherited’ from us, I didn’t care.

Now that I have am grown- up, I will never allow anyone to hurt me. I will not let anyone know who really I was. I will not let anybody else ruin my mission. And that is to become the most attractive, most beautiful and most recognized prostitute; and most importantly, to revenge for my family. I will never stop from performing the 3’o clock a.m. habit until I find and kill the perpetrator of my family’s death. ###

***

Pasensya na kung may mga grammar lapses and tense errors.haha. 🙂

The Sunny Night of August

It’s been years since I left my country for Paris. I am currently working in an exquisite hotel where most of the occupants where renowned business tycoons and celebrities traveling across countries. This five-star hotel is known for its outstanding services, up-to-date facilities and foremost, the delicious food and luscious beverages that even a gourmet would forget his name. The person behind these foodstuffs is really a genius. The hotel is very blessed for having the finest chef who contributed much in the success of the business. Yeah. They are lucky for having me as the head cook.

 

Cooking was not really my passion. I never dreamed nor imagined myself as a chef who cooks for people. I have finished my bachelor’s and doctorate degree in architecture and even obtained my license, and yet, I worked in a kitchen. What’s the sense of getting injured from the heat of the oven or cooking oil when I could just relaxedly stay in an office and design the blueprint of a building? What’s the point of getting agitated beating the time limit of preparing a food for group of hungry people when I could work for a project and be paid with higher salary?

 

I am Gino and I grew up with a silver spoon in my mouth. My father is an architect while my mother was a physician. At a young age, I learned to get used with the busy schedule of my parents. Since I was their only child, I have no one to talk with except the maids who worked for us. Our house may be large but it was so empty. They may have provided me everything I needed but this only made me lazy to work for myself. I depended on everything to our maids that even a simple chore was a no- no for me.

 

Everything changed when I met Jessica. She was the love of my life. She was simple and dependable.  Jessica at an early age began to help her parents earn for a living. She was a part time cook in a restaurant in our school. During her vacant time, she works inside the kitchen and endures the pain of getting wounded or burned. She did not mind if some of our schoolmates were making fun of her condition. I didn’t care. All I knew was that I love her when I sat beside her in one of our class. She was my classmate in Math.

 

Jessica taught me everything I needed to learn especially the house chores. I visited her in their house every weekend and there, I saw how happy they were. All of them were so welcoming. They treated me like one of their family member. And in there, for the first time, I felt I was home.

 

Few years passed, Jessica and I got married. Both of us were very happy planning for our own family. We were excitedly preparing the things we needed for our house. Jessica meticulously sees to it that every single detail should be accurate- from how our kitchen should look, from what curtain should be hanged on the window and the like. Jessica became a good wife to me and I felt so blessed of having her. But I guess I’ll be more blessed because in few months’ time, she will be delivering our first child.

 

In a couple of months, Jessica gave birth. As expected, it was a boy. He was a healthy 6-pound baby. His first cry made me shed tears for I am already a father. His eyes and nose look like Jessica’s while he got my thin lips. We named him Emmanuel.

 

But fate must be kidding me. Jessica died few hours after her labor. It was really very painful to lose her considering the fact that we already had our baby. Anyhow, I promised to myself not to leave baby Emmanuel behind. I am his father and I’ll take good care of him. I promised to protect my son as long as I live. I also decided not to get a babysitter or a maid and then began to live independently.

 

Baby Emmanuel grew rapidly. I sent him to a nursery school when he was 5 years old. According to his teacher, he was a fast learner. He may be a 5 year old kid but he thinks like 7. I was very glad to know that my son is intelligent and smart. He was really a gift.

 

Sooner, Emmanuel began to ask where her mother was. He even told me that he was so envious from his classmates whose mothers accompany them in school. I carefully tell and explained him everything. I was not failed. He understood it all.

 

One Saturday morning, my son asked me to cook for him a sunny- side- up. I panicked for I didn’t know how to cook for it. Since most of the time I and my son eat in restaurants or in fast- food establishments, I didn’t have much time to work in a kitchen and cook for my kid. Nevertheless, he tightly embraced my back and pleasantly told me that I can do it. Then, everything went right upon hearing his words. I immediately get the tray of eggs in the fridge and began my ‘fatherly task’.

 

On my first attempt, the sunny-side-up was totally damaged. The egg yolk which was supposed to be at the middle scattered like no one could say it’s really a sunny- side up. Emmanuel laughed. I laughed too.

 

The next day morning, I ask Emmanuel if we could cook a sunny- side up again. I was confident to ask him for I had searched the internet the night before. Without any second thought, he joyfully nodded and jumped on our bed. I carried him on my back to the kitchen.

 

Luckily, the sunny- side up looked and tasted better than the one I cooked the day earlier. My son liked it even better and I was very happy for it. I was even happier upon hearing him say that he loved me and her mother very much. I shed tears.

 

Cooking a sunny- side up became our bonding moment as years rolled in. Emmanuel was now a Grade 2 pupil. He excelled much in most of his subjects. At a young age, he began sketching a structure of houses and buildings that even my father got amazed of what he can do and how far he can think. I saw in him the passion to draw and I guess, he will be an architect too. He had also drawn his dream house and building.

 

One school day, I got a phone call that changed my life forever. The school principal told me that my son was rushed into the hospital where my mother worked. Upon learning the news, I immediately went into it.

 

As I entered his room, my mother tightly embraced me and said sorry for what she had diagnosed from my son. According to mom, her grandchild had a certain heart failure that when he gets upset or surprised, happy or excited, her heart could stop. I hardly cry as I look at my son’s pale face while holding and kissing his hand. I even cried harder as I remember Jessica and the times when my parents did not even bother try to cook for me. I pitied for myself and for my son. I cannot afford to lose a loved one again. He’s all I’ve got and it breaks my heart thinking about his condition. I hardly shed tears.

 

Few days after, I released Emmanuel from the hospital. I did not tell him what was going on for I did not want to bother him so much. I just told him that he only got fever and there was nothing to worry about. I told him that her grandmother had already killed the virus. Afterwhich, my son strongly embraced me. He sweetly asked if I could carry him on my back to the kitchen and cook for our favorite sunny- side up. I carried him carefully while holding my tears back.

 

While cooking, my son said something that moved me so much. He told that despite it was not perfect, my sunny- side up was the best food he ever tasted; that despite her mom’s absence, I was there to cook for him eventhough I’m not into cooking; that despite he was still a kid, he will do great things for me.

 

A little later, we both noticed that the sunny- side up I was cooking gets even better. It may not be as good as what I have seen from the web but it’s better than the ones we cooked before. With great surprised, I hug him and we both yelled, “We’re getting close to it.”

 

Days come to pass and more weeks came about. In two days time, Emmanuel will be turning 8. It would be a double birthday celebration- Emmanuel’s and Jessica’s; and at the same time, to remember Jessica’s death.

 

Emmanuel’s birthday came in. I woke up early to prepare for the food for my son’s simple party. But first, I prepared him a breakfast. I cooked his favorite meal- a sunny side- up, fried rice and a glass of milk. To my surprise, the sunny- side up was almost perfect. The egg yolk was on the middle and was not scattered. It was neither undercooked nor overcooked. My heart was filled with happiness for my son will now eat a perfectly cooked sunny- side up.

 

I immediately went to our room and wake him up. Upon opening his eyes, I greeted him happy birthday and gently kissed him on his forehead. Then I asked him if I could carry him on my back to the kitchen because something is waiting for him to see. He lightly positioned himself on my back as if he was still sleepy. As we were getting into the kitchen, I noticed something strange. Emmanuel was not talking. I was not used to it for he was talkative and inquisitive. I just assumed that he got sleep while on my back. I gently laid him on the sofa. Then all of a sudden, I was dumbstruck of what I saw. My son Emmanuel was not breathing anymore. He was taken by the grim reaper.

 

I was very mournful that day. My son died on his birthday. Jessica and Emmanuel both died on the same day- a day which was supposed to be very happy but it was not. Worse, my son did not even see my perfectly cooked sunny- side up. He was the reason why I kept on striving to perfect it. It was so fateful that when I almost perfected it, he left.  I shed tears as the rain that day grieved with me.

 

I hated myself for I was not able to protect my son. I promised to protect him for as long as I live but he gone first. Nevertheless, Emmanuel will always be with me. I know that together with his mom, he was very happy for I had perfected the sunny- side up. Jessica, for sure, is also happy for what I have become now.

 

From then on, I decided to take a culinary course for I wanted to learn how to cook. Cooking may not be my first love but it gradually became a passion.  Right now, I am trying to create new delicacies out of eggs. But the sunny side- up will always be the closest to my heart.

 

On the other hand, I am making sure that the food I am cooking for the people in the hotel will always be special and one of a kind. After all, my son’s dream building will always be the number one in Paris or perhaps, worldwide.

 

It’s August 21 again. It’s Jessica’s 41st and Emmanuel 16th birthday. Instead of getting depressed, I bonded with the hotel guests and occupants, hotel workers and other personnel. We really enjoyed the anniversary party outside the hotel. Afterwards, I shed tears of joy as the fantastic fireworks were ignited making a flickering background of the Emmanuel Hotel.

***

For chef. For fathers.

Mindset

Our mind is the aspect of intellect and consciousness experienced as combinations of thoughts, perception, memory, emotion, will and imagination, including all unconscious cognitive process. Meanwhile, mindset is a set of beliefs or a way of thinking that determines one’s behavior, outlook and mental attitude. Special thanks to Wikipedia.

     I have always been observing my environment. It had been my past time to watch over the irregularities of life which turn out to be disappointing. It is really frustrating to know about it. But ironically, I like it. I know you might laugh or raise your brows at me but I don’t care. Neither should you. It’s how I think. It’s how I see these ‘whatevers’. This is my mindset. This is my column and I’ll take the chance to put it into words. So, read between the lines. Who knows, we might share the same observations.
     For many years now, EDSA had been a witness of a long bumper to bumper traffic jam. It seemed that the vehicles were not moving. Even before it was named into what we call now, EDSA had been experiencing a massive vehicle gathering due to traffic. If only EDSA could talk, it would surely complain about the foul odor from smoke belching vehicles.
     Along the streets of ‘wherevers’ reveal the real situation of the man who is usually seen in caricatures and cartoons. The narrow pathways of busy cities have become a refuge of our homeless fellowmen. More often than not, beggars from corner to corner will not stop on chasing you unless you give them alms. The mirror walls of renowned fast food chains have been watching how these unfortunate people desperately waiting for kind ‘whoevers’ to drop even just a single coin into their empty cans. These people who happen to be the highest form of animal become the top competitor of dogs, cats and the like in a search for leftovers over the garbage bags and bins.  It has been a clear manifestation that most of Filipinos share the same plight. Oh poor Juan Dela Cruz.
     I really appreciate the efforts of our new administration to restore economic stability which all the more becomes evident. Everyone has been playing the roles given to them to finally topple the long time problem on corruption. I salute them for initiating this campaign which I believe it should have been started way back then. They’re really performing their duty as what they have promised the mass during the star- studded campaign period with a variety of colors as identification. Special thanks to celebrities who actively participated and promoted their personal bets telling the people that their candidates are far better than the other aspirants. Who knows, these celebrities might later become our self- proclaimed law makers who do nothing but to sleep during sessions. Hey! You are being paid!
      I am a student. I still have no job. But sooner, I might own a very confined cubicle with a lot of post- it notes glued in my cubicle wall or I may later stay in an air- conditioned room having seated on a swivel chair with a lot of papers to be reviewed and signed and a white Apple Laptop too. Who knows? I’ll be in an office where supplies are plentiful. I’ll be with people who do office works that when the boss is out, gossips will be around. Of course, unethical employees are expected to ruin the day, some of them maybe abusive, some are bossy even if they are not the head. Some are wasteful, some are messy. Some are absentees, some are late comers. Some are lazy, some are incompetent. Then out of the blue, the boss will conduct an inspection. Only to find out, the office supplies were all consumed for unreasonable purposes. In just a couple of unproductive days, the stacks of Substance 20 long and short bond papers that stand like the height of a basketball player have turned out into a pile which now stands like the height of a midget. The packs of Pilot Pens and Markers, the bottles of Elmer’s Glue, the boxes of staple wires, the heap of folders and the like become scarce. Then, the sexy secretary who always flirts with his executive is about to print a resolution but only to find out that the Continues Ink System has no ink and that the computer monitor shows a “No paper fed” pop up warning. Then out of his anger, the boss created a fact finding committee to investigate the abrupt expenditure of office supplies and even called an accounting firm to audit the expenses of the company. Huh, too much for this! I might get the ire of those office employees similar to what I have mentioned. Pardon me if I did. In cases that I am just misjudging you, then prove not only me but also to your officemates who do nothing but to spy on your every wrong moves that you are ethical if not holy and that you are not bringing home the supplies intended just for your office. Etcetera. Etcetera.
     In connection with the workplace issues aforementioned, I am really disappointed with employees whose behavior is similar with the wicked witch of any fantasy stories.  They talk as if there is no other day. They yell at customers who wishes nothing but to be eligible. They scold as if they have seen a red cloth as what a bull do in a Bull Fight Festivals. Huh! Where are you morals then? Oops! I did not pointed anyone. You know yourselves. Another despising issue in a workplace is the employees who spend their eight hours or less in front of the computer playing Gamehouse games instead of doing related documents in Microsoft Office. They spend their supposed- to- be- productive time guessing the longest word in Text Twist when in fact they can’t even answer the three letter word and all they have done is to twist the letters or trying hard to protect their house against the dancing brain- thirsty zombies or patiently shooting similar balls in Luxor.  Some may also surf the Internet and sign up on a fast growing networking sites which I usually do. So what if I am hooked with Facebook, or Friendster, or Twitter? At least I am not employed and not being paid by the government.
     I must admit I come to school late at times. Not just once but twice and ultimately became a part of my daily routine. Thanks to some instructors who do not mind putting “T” on my class card for being late. Nevertheless, I found myself enjoying my tardiness. So what? But mind you guys, I’ll be happier if the teacher comes late in a class. I don’t care. It’s the same way around when I don’t like being snoop with my tardiness. That’s it.
     I may sound sarcastic if I am not giving justifications why I like these things I observe. You might not see good things from it but for me, these are significant issues we should look into. I’m not fooling you. There are nice things behind these concerns. You may not believe me but it’s true. Anyway I didn’t write this to convince you but just to inform everyone. It’s hard to convince people whose mindset is different from me. It’s the same way around when I try to convince you that the Earth is the closest planet to the sun when in fact you have just visited a Planetarium or you have just read it from the Almanac that Mercury is the first planet in the Solar System.
     As I was saying, EDSA is a traffic prone area. However, the good things about it are trafficking on my mind. But sad to say, some of it cannot move out from my head and be penned down. Whatever! Anyway, back to the business, traffic is anywhere. It’s not only seen in EDSA. It can be seen from any part of the 360 Degree world. Consequently, there are lots of annoyed passengers, drivers, commuters and the like. But mind you, traffic is nice. Take the case of a job seeker who is about to meet his possible employer for an interview. Because she was rushing, she was not able to put on her make- up which made her look like a rape victim. See? While waiting for the red light turn into green, she will able to fix herself. Who knows, she might be hired as the executive secretary well in fact she only applied as the Xerox lady by the fact that she is beautiful. Instant job, instant position so to say. Those who have no time to eat can pack their breakfast and be eaten inside their luxurious BMW or red sports car. Those who are intentionally making themselves late in office just to avoid her possessive and die- hard officemate suitor will be able to have reason when his boss calls her to explain why her DTR shows her tardiness. Did you see it’s nice to have traffic?
     On the other way around, poverty is okay. Laugh at me? Go! For me, the presence of beggars is God’s way of reminding His people to share what they have got in their life. Through them, well- to- do people will be able to give some part of their resources to those who terribly need help. These unfortunate people need compassion from us. A one peso coin can satisfy the ears of a blind beggar. A smile rather than a criticism from you can somehow make them feel better. I’m not requiring you to be charitable. Neither I am telling you to go to slum areas and start saving them. We can do more than that.
     The campaign against corruption has not something to do with my observations that make me disappointed. Why should I be disappointed when this campaign is commendable. The fact that it was not initiated way back then makes me upset. Thanks to our responsible national leaders who started it. On the other hand, the presence of celebrities during the campaign period is highly appreciated. While helping to boost the candidate’s image to the public, these celebrities will be able to train themselves as future candidates to national and local positions.  Did you get my point? Anyway, if celebrities reign in the national positions, die- hard fans will be able to see their idols not as actors or actresses but as an official whose privilege speech is as kilometric as the speech of any high knowledgeable politician. Consequently, these fans will not be able to huddle themselves in a very crowded areas during mall tours or concerts. At least if they just go to the session area, they will be enlightened about the current national concerns being debated upon.
     The issues regarding the workplace are somehow healthy. You doutb me but I am certain about it. Take the case of an employee who happens to be a struggling single mother to his Grade2C son. His son’s teachers required him lots of school projects. For her to save money, she steal a rim of bond papers, folders, pens, glues, fasteners, markers and the like from the stock room. She may have stolen those supplies but at least it was utilized and not just stocked in a cool dry place. Thanks to the company for the office supplies for without it, the mother may not have paid their monthly rental that gradually became the reason why they were thrown away from their apartment. Of course the mother will be doing the project of his son for he was busy playing with his playmates. Surprisingly, she discovered that she was creative to the extent that his son’s project was highly appreciated by his teacher. And for that, she will treat herself with cups of drink- all- you- can brewed coffee sponsored, again, by the company.
     In cases that the employees whose behaviors are as monstrous as the roles played by the antagonist in box office movies or highly acclaimed prime time ‘teleseryes’ might come across this article, I’m not asking for sorry. Instead you should ask sorry to all your customers whom you have yelled at. This part will just somehow ease your annoyance from me after reading the part where I strike you. Anyway, I salute you for scolding your customers and making them humiliated infront of other people. Two thumbs up for the unprofessionalism you have showed. By doing so, you have just proven your fellow that you still need to go back to school and learn GMRC or if not the basics of Professional Ethics. You also have made them stronger to face any humiliations of respect- undeserving people. You made them more humble. You taught them to strive better so that they will be able to get out from where they are in and be able to treated as humans not as pets being yelled and played upon. After all, you are a good moral booster.
     I also congratulate you for playing computer games during office hours. Why? It’s because you were able to used computers compared to those whom you have humiliated who doesn’t even know to manipulate this device. You’re lucky for you were privileged to have it in your office that when your children need a printed school report or project, you will undoubtedly print it for them. By playing the Text Twist, you have somehow added words into your vocabulary. In cases that you got the highest word, nice job! I hope you also did your job well. I also recognized you for killing lots of zombies which will enter your house. You also have proven me that you have good eyesight and be able to recognize colors in the Luxor game. Cheers for you have just signed up for Facebook where you have added friends and even strangers. Oh wait! You can also send friend request to me. I’d be glad then. We can be friends.
     I also have mentioned my teachers who come to our class late. Ma’am, Sir, it’s okay. At  least you have showed up. Thanks for not coming early at times for I had more time to review my notes for recitation or quiz. You have given me more time to trick around with my classmates which all the more made our bonding closer. Thanks. Thanks. Thanks.
     To make it fair, I even admitted that I am a late comer to school. But I have no regrets. Why? It’s because I have done other more important things that needs attention. I was also able to evaluate myself that coming late at school is a bad habit especially when the teacher gives a surprise quiz. In the end, I  became more responsible to my every action.
     Now, may I hear your laugh at me. May I see your brows if they are still raised against me. Sometimes I have to be mean and judgmental for you to be able to realize that there is goodness behind the bad things around you. Remember I am always here probing around and eyeing your every move. I have set my mind to be a keen observer at all times. This is my mindset and I am proud of it. #

Panggagago ng Isang Gago

Oo, inaamin ko. May mga kagaguhan akong nalalaman. Pilyo ako e. Eh ano ngayon. Wala akong pakialam. At mas lalo ka na dapat. Hindi naman ako nabubuhay, para i-  please ka eh. Nabubuhay ako para magmahal, mag- aral, magsulat, magbasa, kumanta ng Lupang Hinirang, mag- Facebook, mag blog ng kung anu- ano, kumain ng Ding- dong Mix Nuts, mag unlitext at unlicall, magbrush ng ipin, magkulangot, tumae, magtanggal ng libag pag naliligo at kung anu- ano pa man. Gaya ng nasabi ko na, hindi ako nabuhay at hinding hindi ako mabubuhay para lamang  i- please kita. Iba ang iyong pananaw sa aking pananaw. Kaya nga magkaiba tayo ng pangalan dahil sa iba rin naman ang pagtingin mo sa buhay. Reklamo? Kung meron, mag- comment ka na lang sa dulo. Masasayahan ako pag ginawa mo ‘yun.

Paano nga ba ako naging gago? Aba, ewan ko. Basta pagkagising ko na lang isang araw habang nagtitiklop ako ng kumot na kulay maroon, na- realize ko na lamang na gago pala ako. Marahil dala rin ito ng kadalasang pagsermon sa akin dahil nga sa pagiging gago ko. Huh! Lumabo tuloy. Basta gago daw ako.  At ganun na din ata tingin ko sa sarili ko.

Ikaw! Oo, ikaw na nagbabasa. Ano sa tinign mo? Gago ba ako? Kung oo, okey na okey ‘yan. Gusto mo ipagluto pa kita ng overcooked na Pancit Canton na Chilli Flavor na may kasamang bottomless ice tea o kaya’y tubig na lang para tipid. Parte yan nag pagiging gago ko, ang maging kuripot. Kung sa tingin mo naman eh hindi ako gago, salamat din. Marahil nauunawan mo ako dahil binabasa mo nang maiigi ang post na ito. Reading between the lines ika nga.

Marahil natatawa ka na sa akin ngayon dahil ipinangangalandakan kong gago ako. At baka marahil naiinis ka na dahil sa Pancit Canton at tubig lang ang kaya kong ipalamon sayo dahil sa ang tingin mo ay gago ako. Sino nga ba naman kasi ang aaming gago siya. Sino ba naman kasi ang aako sa mga kagaguhang pinaggagawa niya sa kanyang sarili at sa mga taong nakapaligid sa kanya. Meron siguro. Pero hindi lahat ng taong gago simula pa lamang nang magkaisip sila ay aminadong gago nga sila. Mas mabuti na ‘tong aminado akong gago ako kaysa sa nagpapakabanal banalan na parang santo na hindi makabasag ng pinggan.

Para mabigyang linaw ang lahat, narito ang ilang mabababaw at seryosong kagaguhang aking nagawa at marahil gagawin pa ulit ‘pag may pagkakataon. Paalala. Mabababaw lamang ang ilan. Nasa iyo kung lalaliman mo pa ito at bibigyan ng iba pang kahulugan. Ikaw din, baka magmukha kang gago niyan pag binigyan mo pa ng ibang kahulugan ang lahat.

Isa akong klase ng tao na mahilig mag bale- wala ng mga bagay- bagay. Madalas ko itong gawin kahit alam ko sa sarili ko na importanteng bagay ang mga ito na dapat pagtuunan ng masinsinang pansin at hindi dapat ipagsawalang bahala. Minsan, mas pinagkaka- abalahan ko pa ang mga walang kwentang bagay kaysa sa pagtupad ng mga tungkuling ipinagkatiwala sa akin. Naaalala ko nga nung high school pa ako na kung saan ako dapat ang isa sa mga members sa team na lalaban para sa isang prestihiyosong patimpalak sa sinseya na hindi ko na babanggitin kung ano ang patimpalak na ito para maprotektahan ang pangalan nito. Dahil sa pagsawawalang bahala ko sa obligasyong inialay sa akin, pinalitan nila ako. Pero ayos lang ‘yun sapagkat kabarkada ko naman ‘yung pinalit nila sa akin. Sa pagtatapos ng araw, sinisisi ko ang sarili ko dahil sa kabiguan kong gampanan ang nararapat kong gawin. 

Oo. Mapagpuna akong tao. Hindi man lagi pero madalas. Madalas kong pinupuna ang mga kamalian ng mga taong nakapaligid sa akin. Masama mang isipin pero heto ako eh. Marahil naging parte na ng aking sistema ang mamuna ng mga bagay- bagay. Matatandaang labis kong pinuna sa aking column sa aming pampaaralang pahayagan ang mga iregularidad sa buhay na aking napapansin sa aking kapaligiran na maging sa blog kong Emcee’s Mindset ay nai- post ko na din. Marahil maraming nagalit o natuwa sa sinulat ko pero anuman ang kanilang sabihin, hindi ko binabawi ang lahat.

Maraming nagsasabi na mayabang ako. Hindi ko rin naman sila masisisi sapagkat iyon naman ang katotohanan. Mas okay nang ganito kaysa sa nagpapaka- humble humble ka pa kung sa loob loob mo naman eh isa kang hambog. Natatandaan ko nga kung paano napaaway ang pinsan kong babae sa high school batchmate namin dahil sa wall post ko sa Facebook na ayon sa ka batch naming ito ay mayabang daw. Ang sa amin lang naman eh kahit magmayabang ka, basta ba may maipagmamayabang ka, diba? Huh! Wala ako masyado masasabi dito. Baka mas lalo lang lumabas ang kayabangang nakakubli sa aking hypothalamus<hehehe, ba?=”” doc=”” tama=””>.

Mahilig din akong magbiro ng kung anu ano. Madalas kong ginu- good time ang mga classmates ko na kung minsan ay halos ‘di nila ako pinapansin dahil dito. Naalala ko nga nung biniro ko sila through text message na nadisgrasya ako. Pinalabas kong 50: 50 ang aking kalagayan dahil sa mga natamo kong sugat at galos at dahil na din sa lakas ng impact ng disgrasya. Halos sumakit ang tiyan ko sa katatawa noon dahil sa mga replies nila sa ‘imaginary concerned citizen’ na walang iba kundi ako lang din naman. Mabuti at inamin ko din agad at kung hindi, mapapasugod na sana sila sa hospital nang wala sa oras. Hehehe, peace classmates.

Gawain ko din ang mangupit. Karamihan naman siguro sa atin eh naranasan nang gawin ito. Hindi naman natin makakaila na ganito ang Pinoy. Kung tutol ka, usap tayo. Nadadaan naman yan sa ‘maboteng’ usapan eh. Kung sang- ayon ka naman, mabuti ‘yan. Indikasyon ‘yan ng pagkakaroon mo ng liberal na pag- iisip na handang tanggapin ang anumang sermon at puna na maaaring ibato sayo ng nanay mo na walang ginawa maghapon kundi pumutak nang pumutak dahil sa pangungupit mo ng pera na dapat sana eh pambili niya ng Maxi Peel para magkaroon siya ng kutis artista.

Gaya ng nasabi ko, isa akong mangungupit. Madalas kong kupitan ang lola kong nagpalaki sa akin ng mahigit sampung taon tuwing lalabas o pumupunta ako ng paaralan. Maski nga pang- load ng cellphone para makapag- Unlicombo (24 hours text messaging + 10pm- 5pm calls to TM and Globe susbscribers) o Astigcombo (24 hours text messaging + 100 minutes calls to TM and Globe susbscribers) ay kinikupit ko pa (libreng extra promotion) . Kung walang nakupit, meron naman ang Astigtxt10 (24 hours text messaging nga lang) na minsan eh pahirapan pang mag- register. Para ngang napakadami niyang nagawang kasalanan dahil sa paulit- ulit na reply ng “Sorry”. At dahil diyan, tatawag ako sa Customer Service Representative na walang hiniling kundi i- off ang loudspeaker ng cellphone dahil hindi niya ako maintindihan kahit hindi naman ito naka- loudspeaker. Hhhhmmm. At dahil nga likas ang aking kapilyuhan, hihingin ko ang kanyang e- mail address sa Facebook para maging friends kami gaya din ng paghingi niya sa contact number ko tuwing tatawag ako sa kanila para ‘quits’ ika nga.

Naiinis ako sa mga computer units na mayat- maya eh nagha- hang o nagla- log. Mas mag-iinit pa ang aking butsi kapag hindi ko pa nai- save ang ginagawa ko sa Microsoft Word. Ayan, Ctrl + S muna. Baka mainis pa ‘tong computer na ginagamit ko. Pero mas lalo pa akong maiinis kapag wala o napakabagal ng Internet Connection. Siguro napakarami niyang problema dahil sa palagiang “Problem Loading Page” ang nagpapakita. Kung minsan “Offline Mode ” nga eh. Kaya ‘pag, nagkaganoon, nagbu- bookmark na lang ako ng websites na hindi ko pa na- surf dahil nga sa walang connection. Ngunit subalit datapwat, mas nakakapang- init ng ulo kapag ang computer na gamit ko eh naka- Deep Freeze na kung ito ay na- off na, mawawala ang lahat ng nagawa mo. Hay! Kawawang bata. Back to zero ulit.

Kaya ‘pag nagkaganon, halos isumpa ko na ang computer dahil sa pagka- inis. Hindi ko napipigilan ang sarili kong magsalita ng masama at naka- iiritang hinaing. Wala na akong ginawa kundi mag- restart nang mag- restart hanggang sa ako din ang mapagod at sumuko. At dahil diyan, pagti- tripan ko na lang na pindut- pindutin ang keyboard. Minsan ‘pag ayos na ito, para makapaghiganti, pinapalitan ko na lang ang Wallpaper nito kahit pa meron ng nakalagay na paalala na bawal magpalit ng kung anu- anong Display Properties ng computer. Hay naku, tama na nga tong pambubuking ko sa sarili ko. Peace Sirs at Mesdames. Hehehe.

Madalas akong pinapagalitan sa bahay hindi dahil sa bagsak ang aking mga grado kundi dahil sa ugali kong tanghali na kung gumising. Tirik na ang araw pero himbing na himbing pa rin ako sa aking pagkakatulog. Hindi ko na din iniinda kahit maalinsangan na basta mabusog lang ako sa tulog. Puyat man o hindi, palagi akong ganito depende lamang kung may importanteng bagay akong lalakarin. Hindi na tuloy ako nakakapagtrabaho sa bahay dahil dito na siya rin namang dahilan kung bakit ako pinapuputukan ng mala- armalite na sermon. Minsan ‘pag nairita na ang tenga ko, magdadabog na lang ako na siya rin namang dahilan para paulanan ako ng mas maraming bala ng sermon.

Marahil ang suot- suot ko ngayon na damit ay kulay orange na may tatak na “P” sa likod kung sakaling natuluyan ang isang kaklase ko nung high school pa ako. Marahil sa bilangguan ang bagsak ko ngayon o ‘di kaya’y DSWD ang may kalinga sa akin. Salamat sa Diyos at hindi ako tuluyang naging mamamatay tao. Mamamatay tao hindi dahil sa nabahiran ng dugo ang aking mga kamay kundi dahil sa kagaguhan kong mangsindak o manggulat. Naaalala ko nga kung paano halos mamatay sa nerbiyos ang isa sa mga kaklase kong babae na malapit din naman sa akin. Nagsimula ang kagaguhan kong ito nung 3rd Year High School ako.

Sa aking pagkakaalala, katatapos lang noon ng dula- dulaan namin sa Araling Panlipunan. At dahil ang topic namin noon ay mga dinastiya at mga kaharian noong mga araw pa, mga kumot ang isa sa mga naging props namin. Dahil sa hinihintay pa namin ang aming susunod na klase, inaya ko ang isa sa mga kaklase kong kabarkada ko din na mang- good time. Sinabi ko sa kanya na magtago siya sa may cabinet habang nakatalukbong siya ng kumot at gugulatin namin ang kung sinuman ang aming mapagtripan. Dahil sa ang una kong nasalubong ay ang kaklase kong babae na may sakit pala sa puso na hindi ko naman alam, siya ang aking napagtripan. Sinabi ko sa kanya na may pinakukuha ang Teacher Unknown namin sa kanyang cabinet. At dahil nga nag- asta akong seryoso, napaniwala ko siya. Pagbukas na pagbukas niya ng cabinet, isang nakakagimbal na ’halimaw sa cabinet kuno’ ang bumungad sa kanya. Ang mga sumunod na pangyayari, hindi ko na maalala dahil sa nerbiyos na dulot ng pagkakahimatay ng kaklase kong ito. Ang tanging natatandaan ko na lang ay ang 50 counts na pumping na ginawa namin ng kapwa loko- lokong kasabwat ko.

Talagang hindi pa ako nadala sa nangyari dahil inulit ko pa ito pagtungtong namin ng 4th Year High School. Pareho pa rin ang aking biktima subalit wala na akong kasabwat. Natakot na akong may madamay pa sa kagaguhan ko. Recess nuon.­­ Dahil sa ako’y naji-jingle sa mga oras na ‘yun, nag- CR muna ako. Sakto namang magsi- CR din ang aking biktima. Dahil sa una akong natapos sa kanya at saktong nakabukas din ang main door sa CR ng mga babae, ibinalibag ko ito. Napalakas ata ako ng pagkabalibag na naging sanhi ng pagkakagulat ng kaklase kong ito. Sa ‘di malamang dahilan, bigla akong kinabahan dahil sa hindi naman na siya lumalabas. Dahil sa takot, walang atubili kong pinasok ang CR ng mga babae at dun ko natunghayan kung paano habulin ng aking classmate ang kanyang hininga. Nangangatog man ang aking mga paa, dali- dali ko siyang inilabas mula sa CR para siya’y mahanginan. Kahit nanghihina pa rin siya dahil sa nangyari, salamat pa rin sa Diyos at nakahinga din siya nang maluwag makalipas ng ilang minuto. Sa ngayon, paminsan- minsan ko na lang siyang nakikita. Kung sakaling magkita man kami ulit, hindi ko na siya gugulatin kahit pa gaano ako kagago. Ayokong may mamatay nang dahil sa kagaguhan ko. Pangako.

Likas talaga ang aking kagaguhan na maging ang aking utot ay pinaaamoy ko sa kung sinuman ang mapagtripan kong lokohin. Bastos mang maituturing, nakagawian ko nang umutot kahit nakaharap ako sa kanila. Minsan nga tinatakpan ko ang labasan ng mabahong hangin na ‘to ng aking kamay at tinututok sa kanilang ilong. At dahil dito, isang nakakahawang halakhak ang aalingawngaw. Pero, inilulugar ko rin naman ito. Ginagawa ko lang ang kagaguhang ‘to kapag ang mga kaharap ko ay ang mga taong walang kiyeme sa katawan at mga taong pareho ang aming pag- iisip at pananaw sa buhay.

Sa kabila ng lahat, sinisikap ko pa ring bumawi sa lahat ng kagaguhang ito. Gago man akong maituturing ngunit alam ko sa sarili ko na may kabutihan pa ring nananalaytay sa dugong inilalabas ng aking puso na dumadaloy sa aking mga ugat. Utusan man ako ng aking isip na maging gago subalit pipilitin ko itong iwasan sa abot ng aking makakaya. Self- control at self- discipline ika nga.

Dalawampung taon na ako at patuloy pa ring tumatanda. Kaya ko pang ituwid ang baluktot na landas gaya ng sinasabi ng ilang matutuwid na tao sa lipunan. Kasabay nito, marami pang mga bagay ang maaaring mangyari. Marami pang kagaguhan ang pwede kong gawin. Marami pang kabutihan ang maaari kong iaalay. Marami pang buhay ang maaari kong guluhin at baguhin. Marami pa akong pwedeng mahalin. Marami pa ang pwede kong mapag- aralan higit pa sa mga napag- aralan ko na sa mahigit labing- apat na taon ko sa eskwela (kasama na ang Kindergarten). Marami pa akong maisusulat. Marami pang libro ang maari kong mabasa. Marami pang kanta ang magpapatayo ng aking balahibo o makapagpapa- head bang sa akin. Marami pa ang maaaring maging friends ko sa Facebook. Marami pa akong kakaining kornik at nuts. Marami pa akong mailo- load para sa unlitext at unlicall. Marami pang toothpaste ang magagasta. Marami pang dumi sa katawan ang mailalabas.

Marami pang mga bagay ang maaari kong balewalain. Marami pa akong mapupuna. Marami pa akong maaaring maipagmayabang. Marami pa akong mabibiro at magu- good time. Marami pa akong makukupit. Marami pa akong pwedeng kausapin at bolahin na Customer Service Representative. Marami pang akong maa- alter na Computer Display Properties. Marami pang laway ang tutulo sa aking pagtulog. Marami ang pwede kong sindakin.  Marami pang makakaamoy ng aking utot.

Oo, marami pa. Marami pa akong mababago at magagago.

Ngunit, hindi dadami ang mga taong kailangan kong i- please. #

~ Para sa iniidolo kong si Bob Ong ~

Ragged Slippers

    It’s been long 20 years since I left my home. It’s been a long time since I decided to venture in the other side of the globe and hoping to find a greener pasture. I’ve always been trying to escape from the kind of society that once belittled and demoralized me. I’ve spent these mending years trying to forget the past that had been cruel to me. Notwithstanding all of these sorrows, there is always something that leads me back home and someone who always inspires me to fulfill our dreams and to prove something to those who scorned us.
     I was on my deep sleep when I was suddenly awakened by a voice reminding where we are in now. I opened my eyes with curiosity. Then I just remembered that I’m on a flight way back home. I gazed down on the window and a feeling of excitement inspirited my drowsy mind. I immediately get my media player and played the song “Home”. All of a sudden, the plane already reached the runway. I took a deep breath and tried to recover from jet lag.
     Soon, the plane already reached the airport. Eager to smell the scent of my native land, I immediately fixed myself ready to get down from the plane. As I step down from the stairs, mixed emotions enveloped me- excitement because I’m back and that I will be able to see my important ‘whoevers’ and fear for I will be remembering my bitter past.
     I took a ride in a taxi going to our house somewhere in Makati. I preferred not to inform my parents because I wanted to surprise them. I told the driver to just stroll me around the city and to my surprise, everything had changed. Gone were the streets where I used to play, run and mingle with different people of different walks of life. Gone were the places where I found my refuge.
     As I wandered around, I saw these kids happily running one after the other. They were street children for sure. I also noticed this group of children having their empty cans and pleading the passersby to give them alms. Suddenly, I remembered my friend, my best friend. He was Ron and I missed him.
     I grew up in a place where unfortunate people reside. I, at young age learned how to survive in a place of uncertainty. I lived anywhere, anywhere I can feel alright. I managed to live having only one dirty dress and shorts and a pair of rugged slippers. I depended on the alms of the compassionate passersby who don’t care how dirty I was. Yes, I was a street child then.
     It was then consoling to know that there were other people trapped in similar condition. One of them was Ron. I met him when I was 6 years old. We both grew without any supervision from parents. We didn’t even know where we came from. We just know we’re there the very moment we came out this world.
     The noisy city had also witnessed us ran for our lives. We were frightened from the opportunist gangsters who violently get our money from the all- day- long begging for alms. We could hardly find a place to hide away from them. I was totally terrified that even to these days; it still haunted and awakened me from sleep.
     I can also clearly recall when we were running away from social workers who always tried to take us to the orphanage. We didn’t like there. It was in the street we can do anything we wanted. It’s our home and no one could take it away from us.
     One cold drizzly Sunday night of December, I and Ron were preparing to go to the church to sell sampaguita garlands and rugs. As we were heading our way, I came to notice a group of men with black jackets who were following us. At the outset, I already knew they were syndicate who use street children for money. It was just unfortunate that there were only few people were in the road and sidewalks since the weather were bad.
     We ran as fast as we could. And all of a sudden, a flying car came out of nowhere. I told Ron to be careful but then I was late. He was hit by the car and the driver ran away from us. I immediately rushed on and tried to carry him but I failed. His condition broke my heart into pieces. He was bathing with his own blood. While lying, he held my hands and told me to go. “Go and save your life. Do not worry about me. I will be fine. Sooner, I’ll be in God’s kingdom where no one will hurt me. Face the world and be strong. Pursue your dreams, our dreams. Take my slippers. These will lead you to where your dreams are and will take you back to where you came from.” Ron told me as his life was taken away from him.
     I looked behind my back and the men were approaching. I immediately grabbed Ron’s slippers and ran without looking back.
     The next thing I knew was that I was in a well- ventilated room with green paint on the wall. I was lying on a soft bed and beside me was a couple. They brought me to the hospital after bumping into their car. When I was awakened, they explained it to me and asked where my parents were. I said nothing.
     After releasing me from the hospital, they brought me to their house and told me not to leave because they were adopting me since they have no child. Because of the man tragic experiences, I accepted their offer. I also asked them to help me find m friend’s dead body for him to have a proper burial. Then, we looked for him but we failed.
     Because of the many ‘whoevers’ who were against to my adoptive parents decision of adopting me, we migrated to the USA. We stayed in a village somewhere in Wisconsin. There, I was sent to an exclusive school from where I learned to unleash my potentials in many fields. During those times, I discovered my talent in writing. So, I took Journalism as my course in college. I graduated with recognitions.
     Now that I’m home again, a stronger Jim is ready to face the real world. I became braver. I told the taxi driver to drive me to the bridge where I and Ron used to hang around. And yes, everything had changed, but the memories still lives on.
     I began to reminisce the past with my best friend. With those experiences, I was assured that I will be able to carry on. My horror had gone. I also had forgiven those who belittled and maltreated us, those eyes that were so judgmental and the like.
     I still have so much to talk about my best friend but I preferred to keep it on my heart. Wherever Ron maybe, I thank him for somehow inspiring me to pursue my dreams and aspirations and for his slippers which lead me back home.

The Automated Search for the ‘Best Leaders’

     May 10, 2010 was a day to remember. It was neither my birthday nor any special occasion. It was neither my first day of job nor passing from any exam. It was not even an anniversary with special ‘whoever’ or any date with a popular celebrity. It was a remarkable day not only for me but also to all Filipinos who share the same aspiration that someday our nation will be at ease. It was a historic day for everyone who holds democracy and truth dear in their hearts. May 10, 2010 was not only a notable date to Filipinos but also to the neighboring countries for it was the first time for us to hold automated elections. Yes, it was the first ever Automated National and Local Elections. And this was made possible by the joint force of Smartmatic and TIM through their technological creation called the PCOS (Precinct Count Optical Scanner).
     But what really made this day a remarkable event for me? I was not a candidate for any position or a relative of an aspiring candidate. I was neither a supporter of any aspirant who says flowery and flattery speeches nor an ally of any political party. It was the fact that I had served my fellowmen made this happening a remarkable event of a lifetime. It was through being a PCOS Technician that made me euphoric.
     The screening was bit tough. I was so nervous when the coordinator called and informed me that my application was granted and that they were setting for an interview and training. By then, never ending questions almost broke my head. Would I take the chance or not? Would I accept the opportunity or run away from responsibility? Anyway, there’s no harm in trying. Should I pass or fail from the training, nothing will be lost. In fact, I’ll be gaining more knowledge from it. So then, I confidently confirmed my presence in the training.
     The day for the interview and training came. The feeling I had when the coordinator called me had stricken me again. Nervousness. It seemed my feet were holding me back from the venue. But as what I have thought, there’s no harm in trying. Luckily, three of my co- applicants were my former schoolmates. So, I became more confident with my every move.
     At first, I was reluctant to carry the box containing the PCOS machine. What if I might break it? What if the machine will be destroyed? Ha! Apparently, I have many what- ifs running on my mind that very moment. And the fact that it cost much made me more hesitant to touch any single part of it.
     At the end of the day, I just saw myself packing the machine and arranging its components inside the PCOS box. And luckily, I was able to top among the other applicants. I was first in the ranking actually.
     May 10 was fast approaching. The big day was getting closer to its realization. Pressure. Review. Pressure. Every day, I would read the manual from page to page, cover to cover. I would analyze every single detail from the Testing and Sealing Day up to the actual Election Day. I spent my summer vacation reading the manual over and over again for I wanted that my tasks be done accordingly.
     Then one day, the coordinator informed me that I’ll be deployed in a remote barangay called San Benigno. According to him, it was a place where signal was deprived. Seemingly, it was a mountainous place. To my disappointment that I’ll be assigned to a distant area, I even requested the coordinator to reassign me to a nearer barangay. Sadly, the report was done. So then, I began accepting it.
     My disappointment had turned out to be a fulfillment when the Final Testing and Sealing Day came. As I, together with the three BEI’s (Board of Election Inspectors) and the barangay captain, was heading our way to the place, I was totally amazed with the superb and gigantic mountain ranges. It was naturally beautiful and eye- captivating. The lush mountain trees made the ambiance even more relaxing. The air coming in to my lungs was so fresh. The wide rice and corn fields below the hills completed the perfect atmosphere for recreation. What also amused me was the hanging bridge which in fact, it was my first time to see one. I almost shout for joy and amazement.
     Right after we reached the barangay, we immediately conducted the FTS (Final Testing and Sealing). As I was about to inform the NSC (National Support Center) that the FTS had just began, I was surprised that there was no signal. Ha! This is what the coordinator told me before. But God is good for we have successfully conducted the FTS.
     The Election Day came in. I woke up at around 5:00 a.m. I immediately proceeded to the church where signal was good as what the folks told me. I sent a text message to NSC for my attendance.
     It was early 7:00 a.m when we have opened the voting process. I felt a bit of pressure for I’ll be holding a great obligation that day. Like any other PCOS Technicians, I’ll be part of the future of Filipino citizens for the next four to six years or so. But because of the trainings and reviews I had, I was confident that my tasks will be carried out.
     The crowd of voters began to increase. I was wrong with my initial thought that their population was not that massive. I just noticed that most of them belong to the ethnic group like the Ifugaos, Igorots and the like.
     As the election continued, I observed various emotions in the face of every voter. Contentment. Confusion. Disappointment. There were those who almost jump for joy when the PCOS machine accepted their ballots. There were also those who were afraid to approach the machine thinking that it would swallow them. There were those who tend to be disappointed when the machine rejected their ballots because of miscarriage. However, I noticed one similar thing from them. Happiness. Happiness not only because they already exercise their suffrage but also because of this new technological advancement; that even though they were from a remote place, they still embrace and accept what the world has to offer and that was what I appreciated on them.
     It was 7:00 p.m when we closed the election. We have done it earlier if the COMELEC did not request for a time extension. At around 5:00 p.m, no more voters came but we preferred to comply with the instructions from the COMELEC.
     As we were closing, I felt so relieved. It was indeed a tiring day for all of us, from me as a PCOS Technician to the BEI’s, watchers, voters and the like. It was even more relieving when we completely transmitted the election result to the Municipal Board of Canvassers, Kapisanan ng mga Broadcasters ng Pilipinas and Central Server.
     As soon as the transmission and the other report generation processes were done, we right away packed the machine and the other components. I was very happy at that moment for our job well done. It may be a tiring day but it turned out to be rewarding. We decided that we will be reporting at the municipal office right after packing and sealing the peripherals.
     It was already past midnight when we finally approached the municipal office. It was then when I met the other PCOS Technicians and the different election workers and volunteers like the BEI’s, PCOS Supervisors, the PPCRV, the MBOC and the like and even the candidates who at the very moment were rejoicing for their victory while the others were dismayed. There were those who were annoyed because of the crowd of people along the corridors. There were those who were trying to keep their eyes widely open even they were so sleepy. There were also those who were yawning from time to time. I also heard some people who were sharing their experiences regarding the automated elections.
     Indeed, May 10, 2010 was a day to remember. It was a day for every Filipino who at this time can see and feel the changes that the jam-packed- of- platforms- and- full- of- flowery- promises candidates have visualized. I hope that these candidates will still smile back at you when you have come across their way. I pray that the victors will be able to prove themselves worthy for the post. Just like how splendid and fertile the land of San Benigno is, I hope that our leaders today can make a way of creating a wider and greener pasture.
***
This I dedicate to all my fellow PCOS Technicians during the 2010 Automated National and Local Elections, including the PCOS Supervisors and other ‘whoevers’ who have contributed in the success of this historical event.

Novie

      It was past seven in the evening when the rain started to downpour. With the music player on, I was carefully driving my car along the boulevard to the mall. The melodic tune of the Christmas songs filled my heart with great happiness and excitement. Having lit with different neon lights, I was totally mesmerized with the colorful lanterns successively hanged in the posts from the two sides of the highway. What even captivated me was the billboard erected few meters from the mall which texts read, “The birth of the contemporary novelist has just begun.” Just below the caption was the photo of the said novelist with her name written in full caps. The dazzling light projected on it made the billboard even more noticeable.
     As I entered the mall, the security personnel greeted me with warm smile as if he knew me personally. To reciprocate it, I greeted him Merry Christmas though it’s 30 days away from the actual holiday.
     My first stop: the Bookstore. I directly proceeded to the novels section and there, most of the shopaholics, most probably were bookworms, were handling the book of Leila Amor Rosales- a renowned novelist to whom the billboard is talking about.
     I am Ella and I am a bookworm. I really had this obsessive behavior towards books. Since the day I learned to read, books have been my companion. In the counting years of my life, I have read several books, most of them were novels, which enhanced my vocabulary and ultimately honed my writing prowess. I became a writer in our school paper way back high school and eventually took the post of chief editorship. The authors of the books I read inspired me even more.
     Really, reading and writing were my hobby and a passion so to speak, not until I met Mama Tina, my adoptive mother.
     Mama Tina is a philanthropist and a peripatetic teacher as well. She was travelling from place to place just to teach people whose education is not prioritized and deprived. She also lived alone. Her husband died three months after they got married. Instead of getting depressed, she made herself busy with charity works and outreach activities in remote areas. Mama Tina became a full- fledged teacher while trying to help others alleviate their lives. Perhaps alone, she found real happiness and contentment with what she did.
     I met Mama Tina during her visit at the orphanage where I was housed and catered. I was then eight years old. At first, I was not that vocal to anybody else but when I met her, it changed. Before I met Mama Tina, I was an extrovert kid. I never played with my fellow children nor join the class discussion in the orphanage. I would just spend my whole time lying in my bed looking at nothing. According to the psychiatrist, maybe I was traumatized with what happened to me in the past years.
     I was six years old when a fire burned our rundown house. Because the houses in our place were built with flammable materials, the fire easily spread through the slum area which made the residents unable to save their properties and even their lives. Many residents died. Many parents lost their children and vice versa. Fate must be kidding me. My whole family members- Tatay, Nanay and my older sister, died. The only thing I had saved was the book I picked from the dumping site nearby our area.
     The book became my best friend. It became my source of smile when I was crying. It reminded me my family and how happy we were though we lacked with material things. I named it Novie.
     Unable to read due to being uneducated, Novie remained unread. I would just skim through its pages and just focused on the illustrations. Everything on the book was unclear not until Mama Tina adopted me. She taught me the value of education and how important it was in a person’s life. She told that education is the most valuable possession in life and that no one can take it away from you. Mama Tina also imparted me life lessons which all the more helped me to regain myself from the traumatic events of my life. She sent me to an exclusive school from where I gained several recognitions in different areas of education.
     Novie which remained unread for few years was finally and completely read. I learned that it was a novel entitled “A Christmas Carol” written by Charles Dickens. I became so mush engrossed with it for the storyline was incredibly amazing. It was a story of a bitter businessman, who had lost his interest in Christmas sentiments and behaved in a hostile and cruel way toward his employees, not until the Three Ghost of Christmas showed up and taught him the true way of life that in the end, Ebenezer had changed for the better and begun to restore his faith in Christmas. I even narrated it to my Mama and she was so captivated with the way I detailed it. She told me I was good storyteller and I believed in her.
     Mama Tina did not just serve as a mother to me. She was also a friend, a best friend. I would tell her my secrets as what most teenagers have. I would also mention my crushes in school which in the end, she would tease and tickle my funny bone. She would also burst into laugh when I started cracking jokes and showing off my antics. I felt so comfortable everytime she cuddles me in her arms. Indeed, she loved me so much.
     Time swiftly passed. We didn’t both notice that I had grown. I became more obsessive with books. I also even put up a mini library in our house where most of the books were novels. It also became as a study room where I and Mama Tina did our scholastic activities. This mini library had become a witness how she valued education and how she passed on this principle to me. This room saw how much Mama Tina whole- heartedly dedicated herself into teaching. I also had finished my bachelor’s degree and fortunately obtained my license. Mama Tina inspired me very much. I followed her steps and I’m currently employed in an academy where children were physically and mentally challenged.
     Yes, I worked as a teacher in a school that provided special education for children who needs special attention. Many were asking me why I had chosen such career considering the fact that I am brilliant and can acquire even better and easier post. But I didn’t care. My Mama told me to follow what my heart desires and I believed this was really it. Teaching these children is my calling, a calling that really made me happy and contented. Through these children, I found a light and I felt so blessed.
     As the days went out of the calendar, Mama Tina became older and older. She even stopped from teaching and just remained in our house.  As old as she was, she didn’t even remember that she was a former teacher. Later on, she was diagnosed to have an Alzheimer’s disease. The doctor’s prognosis that my Mama’s life was getting shorter made me even more depressed. Sooner, Mama Tina was written out of the script. It was hard for me to move on but later, I did. I just hold on to her ideals and principles and then everything turned out to be fine.
     Her demise caught the attention of many people and then later on, she was awarded several commendations and recognitions because of the many things she had done especially in the field of education. She may have lost her mind that caused her death but her ideals lived on. I’m proud of her and she was my inspiration in fulfilling my dreams.
     Now, I’m trying my best to continue Mama Tina’s legacy in my own way. I’m on the purpose of carrying out what she had begun. Somehow, it helped me made my own name. Her teachings and visions will guide me. She will live in me forever.
     After I finished shopping, I immediately went home. I directly proceeded to the mini library where I and Mama Tina used to stay. Everything was still in its original arrangement. The books were still there in the shelves. Novie was no more in there but Charles Dickens’ “A Christmas Carol” was revived. I also put in there the plaques of recognition of Mama Tina. At the topmost center of the wall hanged the portraits of women, one for me and the other for Mama.
     I sat down on the chair having faced across the two portraits. I was cheered up as I glanced on Mama Tina’s picture. Her face was very fair. Her smile reminded me how her life became worthy by maximizing her time. I also remembered my real family- Tatay, Nanay and my older sister, and I know that they were now very happy in heaven. I believe that the four of them were very proud of what I had become. For sure, they are very glad because I had fulfilled a part of my dreams. The fulfillment of it was inspired by and dedicated to them together with the children I am teaching who totally touched my life.
     Afterwards, I brought out from a paper bag the things I bought from the mall. I bought some Christmas decorations like Christmas lights and lanterns, a Mistletoe and the like. I also bought a book. It was an awe- inspiring novel written by Leila Amor Rosales and was a certified sold- out book. Being in euphoric state, I held it in my arms and caress it on my face. Then I fix my eyes on the book and gently read the author’s name. Leila Amor Rosales. Again. Leila Amor Rosales. I just can’t absorb that she authored it. I thought she would just end up as a reader and a teacher who follows what her heart desires. And by following her heart’s desires, Novie was born.
***
This piece is dedicated to all teachers especially my mentors who had played a very important role in my life that helped me become into who I am now.

Babala: Patnubay ng Nakakaunawa ay Kaylangan

     Nakakainis! Bakit kaya may mga taong hindi marunong makaunawa kahit gaano mo pa ipaliwanag ang iyong panig. Bakit kaya may mga klase ng taong hindi man lang mapakiusapan kahit gaano mo pa sila kausapin. Makatikim lang ng kaunting biyaya ay parang kung sino na sila umasta na para bang hindi na niya alam lumingon sa kung saan siya nanggaling. Magkaroon lang sila ng ‘upuan’ ay para bang hindi na nila alam na minsan din silang nanggaling sa ibaba.
     Aba! Hindi naman po siguro pwede ‘yan. Mawawalan ng respeto sayo ang mga taong ang sa alam mo ay iginagalang ka. Sa inaasal mong ‘yan, bababa ang pagtingin sayo ng mga taong mataas ang pagkilala sayo. Kaiinisan ka ng kapwa mo na para bang ikaw si Clara sa Mara Clara. Kung sa tingin mo ay nasa tama ka, puwes, isang nag- aalingawngaw na pagkundina ang para sayo.
     Subukan mo kayang ilagay ang sarili mo sa kalagayan ng mga taong ginaganyan mo. Kausapin mo kaya nag konsensya mo upang malaman mo ang pakiramdam ng natatrato ng ganyan. Mag- isip- isip ka kaya para mapagtanto mo na nag- aasal hayop  ka na. May isip ka naman. Isip na nagbigay daan sayo upang maparangalan na nagdala sayo sa kung saan ka naroroon ngayon. Manhid ka lang ba talaga o sadyang makitid lang ang iyong pag- iisip at pang- unawa upang kahit paano ay unawain ang kapwa mo.
     Gayunpaman, may mga tao pa ring nanatiling maunawain gaano man siya kataas sa lipunang kanyang ginagalawan. Sa kabila ng posisyong kanyang pinanghahawakan, nananatili pa rin silang mapang- unawa at kayang tanggapin ang kalagayan ng ibang tao. Sila ang maituturing na tunay na propesyonal at hindi ang mga taong nagsisimula pa lamang ay magaspang na ang ugali. Mahiya ka!
     Sabi ng karamihan, ang taong nasusugatan ay lalong tumitibay. Katulad din ito ng taong napapahiya ay lalong lumalakas ang loob upang pantayan o mas higitan pa nagawa ng aroganteng kontrabida. Hindi sa sinasabi ko na laging kontrabida ang nangpapahiya. Pero kung sa ugali ang pagbabasehan, katumbas na niya ang kagaspangan ng asal  ng kung sinumang step mother sa alinmang pantasiya.
     Isinulat ko ang artikulong ito na may pag- asang balang araw, ang lahat ng tao ay magkaroon ng malawak na pang- unawa sa kalagayan ng kanyang kapwa. Hindi ko ito isinulat upang magmalinis o maghugas- kamay. Ang artikulong ito ang pang- alis ko ng sama ng loob sa mga taong mahirap pakiusapan at hindi nakakaunawa sa kanyang kapwa. Maliban sa pagwawala, sa pagsusulat ko nailalabas ang nagpupuyos na damdaming minana pa sa bayaning doktor ng bansa. Kasama ng mapaglaro at mapanuring isip, mas matalim ang plumang nagluluwal ng tinta upang makabuo ng salita kaysa sa anumang armas.
     Matamaan ang matamaan. Wala akong binabanggit na pangalan ng kung sinumang herodes o poncio pilato. Nasa iyo ‘yan na nagbabasa. Sana sa pagkakataong ito ay maunawaan mo. Kung sa tingin mo ay natamaan ka, wala akong pakialam at mas lalong wala akong babawiing salita. Manigas ka!