A Letter to the Boy of My Familiar

         I guess you wonder why I wrote to you, thinking that I could just talk to you, face to face, eye to eye of whatever. I guess, I chose to write because our work has given us no time, even a few minutes for a talk, I mean, a serious one. Our work has not given me the chance to talk with you and express my perspective of some things that I would say occurred just between the two of us, o sige, isama na natin si Collie. 

          So, I was being hopeful here, that in the event that out of some circumstance, you would, have a few minute, much more a chance to read this and not to make a comment but rather I appeal that you would reply, not in a spoken manner, but as also in the form of writing for I don't think I am ready for a face to face encounter. I am hoping you would take the time to say whatever. I would gladly appreciate if you would.

              How should I begin? I believe relationships occur if people have the same dreams. With these dreams, they travel the same road. Regardless of the fact that we started out from two different roads, because you brought yourself at SMA, while I was brought by Collie. But I'd like to tell you that it was still my decision to be where I am now. I would say that like you, I also brought myself at SMA. Our roads, though they may seem parallel at first, still diverged, intersected. 

            I thought, we had that relationship- a friendship I must say. I thought I found a new friend in you. I thought we are dreaming dreams. Well, not exactly the same dreams, but I thought we wish well each other. But, now, I don't know. I just want to tell you that after all these months of being acquainted with you, as Ms. Yhel said, "I thought you are my friend." I don't know. I just had that emotional awkward feeling after the IFP sharing session. I really felt like a piece of crap being thrown away. Which a friend would never make the other friend feel that. I felt, you are giving me away. 

               Hindi ako nagpapapigil. Hindi. I just thought that  I could get some compassion from you, since we already told you about the "hurt" that Bubbles brought to us. I thought you already experienced na mahirap maghanap ng trabaho. I thought alam mo na masakit para sa amin na iwan kayo dahil hindi naman kayo ang dahilan ng pag-alis namin.  

                I thought this almost two years of working together was enough for you to be a sincere friend, like I am to you. I guess, I thought wrong. Is it really that difficult to earn your trust? Ano pa bang kailangan kong gawin? I may never know how fleeting it feels to be appreciated by Bubbles for he never have done that to me. So, I guess, I may never understand your actions. But, I'm trying my best to care for you, to understand you. 

          So, I hoped that you could just have that compassion, or sensitivity or even a little sympathy towards my pain, even to Collie, no matter how apathetic she is.          

              Are we just mere personnel here? Are we not friends? Because all this time, I thought we are? Iniisip ko tuloy, siguro kung may mangyayari sa aking masama, you won't even bother to care. I am not asking you to always look after me. We both know that I can take care of myself. All I'm asking is for you to care- be a friend, my friend. Is it too much to ask? 

            Isa pa, minsan ang weird mo. Minsan okay tayo, minsan naman may "awkward" moments. There are times that magkakatinginan tayo na para kang may gustong sabihin. Kakulangan ba sa oras talaga ang dahilan? Hindi ko alam kung dapat din ba ako sisihin dito. May nagawa ba ako? Kung meron, ano iyon? Para kang nahihiya sa akin. Nahihiya ka sa isang kaibigan. There are times you make me feel like a stranger! Nakakalito ka!! Nakakalito 'yung actions mo! Alam ko na alam mong ayokong nalilito. That's why I wish to understand what's happening to us. Although, at one end, I will not be able to totally understand you because of gender differences, but at least, if you will shed some light into this, no matter, how slow learner I am, I will understand. I will do my best not to escape.  

                                                                                                                                            Sincerely,

                                                                                                                                           

Here's the Thing

             I'm the kind of person, whose every day life should, must, and always has an objective, a goal to achieve, a plan. But aside from that side of me, I always welcome accidents. It may appear ironic, but hey! life, as they say, is ironic in itself. I may freak out at times and panic, because my plans will be ruined by these accidents, but hey, again, it's my defense mechanism working. Freaking out and panicking makes me feel alive. It's my body's way of recovering from stress and changes. I'd be dead if I will not feel anything if I'm hurt or got shocked or much more surprise from the dynamism of life. That would be pitiful. Regardless of it all, I still welcome those diversions. I believe that it's God's way of telling me that my plans should not be my plans in the first place. That I should make a left turn. That what I first believe to be right maybe wrong. That maybe, it's God's way of telling me that my plans are not good for me, that I might be in trouble if I would still stick to my plans. That it would not be safe for me. 

              I welcome accidents. This is the main reason or I would have to say that this is the only reason for most of my life-changing decisions. I am afraid of many things yes, but in the event that I really feel that God wants me to deviate from my plans, I suddenly became courageous. I become decisive. I became calm and faithful. That's why, I applied at St. Mary's, even though, I was just waiting for the training at an editing office. Because I felt that God wanted me to be here, to work here, to grow here. Regardless of the fact that yes, Collie did brought me to this school.  And working at SMA wasn't included in my plan. I never planned it. But as I came to realize, I think that God used Collie as His instrument for my epiphany that SMA is my place and not some editing office at Makati. Collie and I were not that close back in college! Yes, we were friends, as I'd like to assume back then, but not that close. And there she was and texted me to apply for a teaching position. 

                   Regardless of whoever brought me at SMA, out of some fate, faith, or mere coincidence, IT WAS A DECISION I MADE WHOLEHEARTEDLY. I CHOSE for myself to be at SMA. I could have declined Collie's offer. I could have ignored the vacant spot. But, I DID NOT. Whether it be out of some divine intervention, I am now working at SMA and I BROUGHT MYSELF IN HERE.
                    Regrets, I had a few. But, I regretted the decisions I made according to my plan. I would have to say that so far, in my life, I have not yet regretted the decisions I made out of the accidents that come along my way. Life has its own way of surprising me, and if I was surprised, I am joyful. Why would I regret a decision that brought me to my happiness? 
                     Which led me to thinking that according to my plan, 4 years ago, I should take my resignation from a private school after two years of work. That was the plan. According to the plan, two years is enough to gain experience and that I should serve the public school system. 
                     So, I'm almost done with my two years of experience, is it time? I don't know. I have not yet felt any intervention from God. Should I wait a little bit more for God's message? As far as I can remember, Collie's "intervention" came just when everything seemed to be final between me and the editing firm. Should I really wait of whether to finally go or to still stay or am I running out of time to go? Questions. Doubts. Confusions. However, it seems to me that my co-teachers are cool with my resignation if ever.  I don't feel any STRONG sense of holding me back. They don't seem to want to stop me. Or I guess, I just sounded not too serious about it, although I am.    

Kuya Bernie and his Missions Around the World

             One of my personal goals in life is to travel the world. I want to get to know people and their culture, much more to study them. Besides, like what I always tell myself, "The world is too big to ignore." I used to think that one good way to travel the world is to be an interpreter of languages. That was one of the reasons why I took Linguistics for my masters, aside from the thought of creating literacy materials for Filipino indigenous people, me, being an advocate of learning. Another way, din pala to start traveling the world is to do missionary works, like the chosen vocation of Kuya Bernie. I envy him. At his young age, he was able to travel to Thailand, Cambodia, Hongkong, and Vietnam, and counting.  

               Collie, Ice and I welcomed Kuya Bernie on one of his pagbabalik-bayan all because of his pasalubong, hahaha. So, Kuya Bernie shared to us his journey, then, in Cambodia and Vietnam. He shared his taste of their food, the treatment of their locales, and practically, their belief system. Finally, he made this simple realization. He said that along his journeys, he learned that people travel and go to different places merely just to change the things that they see. I guess, he said this, out of the thought that he traveled mainly because of doing missions. Missionary works entail selfless attitude and beliefs. It brings charity and love. I used to think that I would travel countries to study. I never thought of working abroad because I love my country, the Philippines, so much that I would not want other countries to profit out of my skills and intelligence. Such a selfish way of thinking. It never occurred to me that people travel to see different sights, different people, different cultures just for the sake of experience. Somehow, like a vacation way. During my conversations with Kuya Bernie, I realized that  money is not and should be a problem if a person wishes to travel the world. With faith, fate, and a hopeful desire to help or even lend other people your small hand are enough fuel to take you to places. They will be your ticket to travel the world. 

Across my Peripheral Vision

Across my Peripheral Vision
I sense the way of your eyes
towards me
that awkward feeling
dare me to take a look
at the direction
of the look of your eyes


True enough,
You are looking at me.
one thousand one
one thousand two
one thousand three passed
No.
You are staring at me.
Me staring at you.
As a response to the power of the moment
You and I 
ended up
Staring with each other.

Nanay Rosita

             I'm not that good with dates, but what I'm somehow good at is in connecting dates with events that happened on that very date.
              
              That's why, I guess, I will never forget March 22, 2010.
            
              It was a day before my graduation.
God knows. Everyone knows how happy and excited I am to finally graduate from college. I worked hard for it, hell yeah! I make it a point that every moment of it was captured- from filing of graduation application to graduation picture, gradball, yearbook. Captured. Hindi pa man dumarating ang March 23, super excited na ako. I was happy, actually, overwhelmed.
 

            Until March 22 came. It was our baccalaureate mass. I scheduled myself to leave home by 10am to reach PNU just in time for the brief practice. Mama went at the market for her usual errand and returned home just before I was about to leave but brought with her a news that changed my celebratory atmosphere.

              Nanay Rosita passed away. I couldn't cry. I was shocked and speechless. Time is running out. It's almost ten o'clock. I had to leave home. Yes, I had to leave. I had to.
As I boarded the bus to Manila, I couldn't think. Frankly, I do not want to think. That day, I was happy. I kept telling myself. This is a happy day.
 

            Until I reached BPS 101, I saw there my classmates getting ready for our practice. This is a happy day, I really kept telling myself. Until tears fell down my eyes. I cannot help it. I cannot control my tears not to be seen by my classmates. Soon enough, they knew. Some of them said their condolences, the others apathetically, said, it's life's natural course. Anyway, Nanay was 76 years old. Come to think of it, the average life expectancy rate of Filipinos is 65. Nanay was somehow fortunate enough to withstand many years after that I heard her doctor once said.
 

          I am a good student- not to brag about it. I crave for learning so much especially cognitive knowledge. I  love history. I wanted so much to know whatever happened then. That's why, I was very excited every time Nanay would tell me of her first hand experiences during  World War II. Nanay was born on 1932, (I guess?!) she was almost 13 years old then. She would tell me how she and Lolo Dadar would carry the bilao of bananas to the Poblacion in Quezon province and be halted to a stop by Japanese soldiers. She was not scared, she would always say, because she was very young then- brave and innocent.

She would tell me how they ran in all directions to escape the bombs released by kamikaze planes. She would jokingly narrate how her male neighbor slumped himself into an open pit of mud to cheat death covering his face and body with mud and tae ng kalabaw (carabao manure). And then I would laugh out of grossness. She said, they would hide in the silong, and their kasama sa bahay would ask her to close her eyes so as for her not to be traumatized by the horrors of war. But she said, stubborn as she was, would not close her eyes and would look at how the planes collide with each other and eventually burn and explode in the sky. Then I asked her about comfort women. She said that fortunate in their area not to have those kinds of abuse. Nanay, together with the rest of the women living there were left not abused. It was a fascination every time Nanay would tell her stories. For me, the stories are not bluff. Creative as they may sound, but they are real for me.
 

            Nanay would tell her stories to us- her many grandchildren, every time we spend our holidays at home, being the introvert grandchildren that we are. But, as far as I can recall, I was the only one who would listen to her and remember her stories (no bragging intended.) Whether out of personal fascination or pity or just out of filial piety, I listened. Those storytelling time became my bonding moments with Nanay Rosita.
       

            Well, I can proudly say na laki ako sa lola. Maybe that's why, may soft spot sa puso ko ang mga matatanda. My family has been on an extended family concept on paternally ever since. Nanay was a witness to my growth (to onsets of puberty- struggles with menstruations and all.) Nanay told me tips on household chores, not to prepare me for marriage but simply to save myself, so I can cook for myself, so I can survive in this concrete jungle. Nanay taught me how to properly clean the fish (tilapia.) Nanay taught me how to cook rice and reminded me to leave the measuring cup inside the bigas (uncooked rice) dispenser always full with bigas so that our family will not get hungry. Nanay told me various pamahiin- of the tikbalang and the spirits. 
 

          My relatives said, I'm Nanay Rosita's favorite granddaughter.  Kaya daw kapag may pagkain at nasa school pa ako, ibibilin daw niya, "Oh, tirhan si Red para makatikim naman ng kinain natin." Ako, naman, pag-uwi ko, I'm that innocent child na since tinirhan ako ng pagkain, kahit ano pa man iyon, eh, matutuwa na ako, kakain lang ako. I was not aware that Nanay Rosita was behind that spare food for me. I never felt any jealousy or envy on the part of my cousins. They're just cool with it because somehow they know that I'm a good girl and perhaps, I deserve Nanay Rosita's affection too.
 

                 Wala pa man ang graduation day, I already foresee that my life will change. Yes, my life did change. Right after my graduation, my life changed.

There were no longer World War II stories. There were no longer reminders of the pamahiins. I no longer have my Home Economics teacher. On my graduation day,  I became my own teacher.