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I’m no boxing aficionado but I do watch boxing matches of Manny Pacquiao. One because, we got only one TV in the house and there’s no way for me to watch my favorite shows during this time. Two, I like to watch Pacquiao’s fights against hunky Mexican (or Mexican descent) boxers like Eric Morales and Oscar De La Hoya, who fight as if their looks are throw-away assets in the ring.

In the recent fight between Pacquiao and De La Hoya, I watched it as I watch the evening news – interested but a tad indifferent. In fact, I was in and out of the kitchen every fifteen minutes so I didn’t get to see every blow Oscar took from Manny not until the replay. Very different from my husband who is glued on the tv and didn’t want to miss any part of the action, even on replay. Well, that’s how men are as far as I know. But one thing that puzzles me is why men like to drink beer while watching a boxing match. Can’t they get away with orange juice or softdrinks? Or how about eat some popcorn instead? What’s with the beer?

Anyway, I think it was a good fight, even though some say that it was a mismatch in the first place, and that De La Hoya had the advantage.That’s why more gamblers, who just had so much money on their hands in spite of the recession, bet on the Golden Boy-slash-pretty boy than on Pacman-slash-actor-slash politician wannabe. Like it was 3 to 1. The great Pacman proved them all wrong and defeated De La Hoya. Filipinos in the MGM Grand who were cheering even before the match began were ecstatic, including Vice President Noli. I’m sure in the Philippines, the scene was the same. Most Filipinos rejoiced at his victory and a grand celebration awaited him. And he deserves it, not only for winning but also for being able to unite the Filipinos in spirit. It’s a very hopeful thing, because it means the Philippines can progress if only Filipinos unite. If we really wanted to. So to Manny Pacquiao-slash-national hero at the moment, kudos to you!

I went to the US Embassy last July 30^th
to apply for a tourist visa because  I’ll be accompanying  my
husband on his business trip and probably tour some places too. On
the day of the interview, I came to the embassy an hour earlier. Many
people were already queued outside the building and I was asked to
join them. When my number was called for the interview, I was a
little nervous because I saw how the officer asked the lady before me
with questions like, ‘Are you sure it’s Disneyworld and not
Disneyland? The state where you want to want to travel is in the East
Coast but your family is in the West.’ I can’t help listening because
the officer’s voice was loud enough to be heard in the waiting room.
At the end of the lady’s interview I was almost sure that she’d be
denied. She wasn’t, to her relief, and mine too. So when he started
asking me questions, I tried to be calm but still a little nervous
and sometimes wasn’t careful with my words. For example, I said ‘I
COULDN’T get a dependent visa (in Malaysia) last year because….’,
instead of DIDN’T. But I corrected myself after. Minus passing
points, I  thought. Another is when he asked me what we’ll be doing
there, I replied, ‘After my husband WORKED in their US branch, we
will go on a holiday trip.’ Although he will actually work there,
it’s not the correct term since his real employer is his company here
in Malaysia. So again I stand corrected and said, ‘After he ANALYZED
THE SYSTEM…’ Hell, these consuls are just freakingly allergic to
some words. It’s like once they hear these words, dingdong! they’ll
be thinking you’re planning to immigrate to their dear country. Well,
I can’t blame them. To quote the officer, ‘Every Filipino has at
least one relative in the US.’ He told me that when I denied about
having relatives in the US. After that question, I felt my chances of
going to Universal Studios fading. Finally he asked the make-or-break
question: ‘How could you assure me that you’ll come back? I knew this
was coming and so I confidently answered, ‘My husband and I are
already well settled here in Malaysia.’ But he wasn’t totally
convinced and continued, ‘Your husband is settled, but you’re not.’
My passport and (un)employment status back up his claim but still I
was  a little taken aback at his reaction and so I responded, ‘I
can’t imagine myself living alone in a foreign country and everyday,
all I’d do is bust my ass just to live comfortably.’ Well that’s
dream line, so I told him rather, ‘I got no one there to live with,
so there’s no reason for me to stay.’ He made a few more questions
and finally asked if I want to pick up my passport or have it
delivered. Two days later, I went back to the embassy and to my
amazement, it was a 10-year multiple entry visa! I really wasn’t
expecting to get that,  a one-year tourist visa would be fine,
really. I don’t know if I got a great deal of convincing points in
that make-or-break question, or it’s just much easier to get a US
visa here in Malaysia, or US is really giving 10-year visas nowadays.
Or, as I would like to think, I was just lucky.

Working as an English teacher to
Koreans for more than half a year was both tiring and enjoyable.
Tiring because there were times I had to teach for ten hours a day
(though with short breaks in between, still, I felt drained at the
end of the day) and also, I had to get up as early as 3AM to prepare
for my shift for my online classes. It seemed difficult at first
since after my online job in Ortigas ends at noon, I had to rush to
Cainta to teach again for four hours in the afternoon. But after a
while, I got used to it. It was my first time to do this and I found
juggling two part-time jobs really exciting. In addition, if I had
stick to teaching man-to-man (=not online) all day long, I might have
quit. The variety added to the fun.

For the most part, teaching English was
enjoyable because aside from being able to teach a dominant language
in terms of media exposure and international need, I got to meet
different kinds of people, and I enjoyed teaching adults
particularly. It’s not due to their perceived more advanced English
level, but because there are more topics to talk about than when
dealing with kids or even teenagers. Sometimes even topics that are
too personal were opened up by students themselves and were discussed
freely as if we were BFF. These include monthly period, family
problems, plans for divorce,  problems with the in-laws, unhappy
childhood, and even sex that was considered as a taboo subject as
told by my head teacher on my first day of training. Talking about
these topics helped me understand Korean beliefs and values which
some are shared by Filipinos. Moreover, it gave me the chance to
relate to my students and help them not only with their grammar and
pronunciation but also with their personal issues somehow.

Now that I’m back to my fulltime job as
a housewife, I miss the life as a teacher. Besides, I want to have my
own income. Since I can’t legally work here in Kuala Lumpur, I’m
looking for opportunities to teach again, Koreans or other
nationalities.

If only…

If only I had said what’s in my mind…

If only I hadn’t said that…

If only I had reached out to him…

If only I had agreed to go with her…

The lines could go on. How often do we find ourselves saying these words – if only? No matter how hard we try to assure ourselves that everything happened for a reason or we’re not fully accountable, there is still regret that creeps inside us. Regret with shame and guilt makes it hard to move on and forget.

This isn’t about love. Or about respect either. I hate to admit but it’s about discipline. How could one undisciplined action lead to serious trouble? Until now, I’ve been thinking about it, especially when I go out and commute.

One night in January, I was packing my things to set off for home when a colleague invited me to go home with her since we’re of the same way. I refused saying that I wanted to eat first and catch things up with two other colleagues. So she decided to go ahead without me.

When the three of us were eating in 7-11, I was surprised to see her. She joined our group and so we ended up getting a jeepney together. It was difficult to get a jeepney that time because it was rush hour but then we saw one and immediately stopped it even though the lights were go.

We got on but after a while, the jeepney was stopped by an MMDA police officer and gave a violation ticket to the driver. When he got back to the driver seat, we heard him saying something like, “Dahil sa dalawang pasahero, eto ang napala ko.” (Because of two passengers, this is what I’ve got.)

At first, my colleague and I were telling each other that it wasn’t our fault completely because he shouldn’t have stopped when he saw us. We just let it pass and continued with our chatting. A few meters after, the jeepney we’re riding suddenly smash into the back of another jeepney. Then we saw a woman crying and shouting for help. The woman was about to get off the other jeepney, with her one leg already on the street when our jeepney suddenly crash into it thus sandwiching her leg between the two vehicles. My colleague and I just stood there, totally dumbfounded. We were thinking of the same thing that time. The driver got disoriented because he was given a ticket and would have to pay for it. Thinking of the loss in income that could have bought food for his family, he didn’t focus and miscalculated when to stop. After we saw the woman being taken to the hospital, we left the scene, feeling guilty. Maybe I wouldn’t have thought much about this if there had been no innocent victim of our lack of discipline. But I can’t do anything about it anymore, just to pray that the woman can still walk normally.

Due to that incident, I think I’ve become a more law-abiding citizen, so to speak. I try my best to follow loading and unloading areas, cross the streets on the pedestrian lane, etc. but still, I can’t help thinking about the incident whenever I pass the same area almost everyday. If only I had waited.

     I was to write about what I did for 2007 and join the bandwagon of making good-for-a-week resolutions but something, or rather someone, changed my mind. Suddenly I felt that I wanted to write about one special relationship that I had which ended last 2003. It was a love-hate relationship, and thinking back I realized how immature and stubborn I was that time. Maybe because I was in a new and exciting relationship with another thus spending more time and giving him all of my attention and also getting everything back that I felt I can be on my own and didn’t need any unsolicited advice from her – my mother.

     But going back to why I deviated is because I’ve recently met a woman at a friend’s party who candidly talked about her personal life to me whom she met for the very first time. I was just brought along by my close friend the same way as she was and both of us ended up with each other. Her story was mostly of her mother and what it seems to me the longest grudge a daughter can hold against her very own life and blood. It was like she was telling me a telenovela, with all the action and drama, but isn’t. It really happened to her and for all its worth, her story had made me think about the relationship I had with my very own mother.

      I remember when I was in college, I would rather spend more time with my friends than with my mom at home which I think is common among teenagers. But this preference sometimes ignited a sermon from her who I could say was a little overprotective. One of the reasons for this is that most girls of my age and even younger, within our families and neighborhood, got pregnant and I think she feared that I might follow their footsteps. But when I graduated and had been working for two years without a bulging tummy (well, not totally coz there’s a little but it’s due to over consumption), she started to relax and I was gaining her trust. This trust turned to jealousy when she noticed that I often went out on dates with the guy I presented to her. She didn’t tell directly to me that she was jealous for spending too much of my time on him, but my aunt told me. Finally she understood and I tried to make up by having videoke sessions, her fave pastime, with her during weekends.

     Everything was going well although sometimes I still couldn’t get used to her irascibility which was mostly due to her health condition. We had grave misunderstandings but we patched things up at most after two days. By 2003, her condition worsened and she became more irritable and family members were very patient with her. By May that year, hope came when we learned that she would finally be scheduled for a heart bypass operation. But before the risky operation, she was being tested if she would be ready for it. Series of tests after tests were done, until after two weeks she finally gave up. It was as if she knew she’s not going to last, as she said to me on her last breath.

     Today is a start of a new year, but here I am dwelling on the past, instead of looking forward to the future. Actually, not really. Just missing my mom and all. And thinking about the woman that I’ve met, I hope that she and her mother are in better terms now because as for me and for the rest who’ve lost a parent, believes that no matter what kind of relationship you’ve had with your parents, you’re going to miss them once they pass away.

The Mooncake Festival among Chinese is over but addiction over mooncakes isn’t. Ever since a friend had given me a piece of this sweet minicake,
I and my husband had bought (and eaten!) several kinds and as of
writing, we will be having our last half for dessert this evening. That
is the one with two yolks because we are saving the best for last.

Before, I used to think that these are just special hopia and never thought that mooncakes
were really yummy because I had tried it in the Philippines maybe
thrice but never had experienced tasting something that I would crave
for again. Not until last week. The moment I took a bite, the
smoothness and right sweetness of the cake washed my old perception
away.

This addiction over mooncakes then brought about my curiosity about the mooncake festival tradition. There are several versions in the internet explaining how it all began and the reason for such celebration.  There is one story where mooncakes were used   in hiding messages among rebels to overthrow the Mongolian rule over China in the 14^th century.  The plan succeeded on the 15^th day of the eight moon (lunar year in the Chinese calendar) and from then on mooncakes are eaten to commemorate the legend. But one version that I like the most is the story of Hou-Yi
and Chang-Er. The time was around 2170 BC, when there were ten suns
taking turns in warming the earth. But one day, these suns decided to
have some little fun, got out together thus scorching the earth.
Archers were called upon to shoot down nine of the power-tripping suns.
All but one was successful in achieving the daunting feat – Hou-Yi.

As a reward for his great deed, Hou-Yi
was granted the pills to immortality. He was told that in order to reap
its full benefits, he had to fast for a year before slowly and
carefully consuming the pills over a period of time. During this time
of fasting, he was summoned by the emperor for another mission, so he
gave the pills to his wife Chang-Er for safekeeping during his absence.

Everything
was going well until one day Chang-Er sensed an odd energy coming from
one of the servants. She became suspicious and it turned out her
instincts were correct. She caught him trying to steal the immortality
pills in her hiding place. Chang-Er and the servant struggled against each other to get the pills which must have been one helluva fight because Chang-Er accidentally swallowed half of the pills all at once.  The next scene is Chang-Er
drifting up into the air, beyond her control, until she reached the
moon. Once there, as hard as she tried, she just could not get herself
to float back down to earth.

Hou-Yi returned and realized
what had happened. He was crushed not from losing his chance for
immortality, but at the idea that he will never see Chang-Er again.
Since then, he looks up to the moon to catch a glimpse of his lost wife
especially on the fifteenth day of the eight month, when the moon is at
its biggest and brightest. Sensing his love, Chang-Er would do the same
by staring down hopefully from the moon. It has been said that their
yearning is so strong, and their devotion is so true, that their energy
transformed the moon to always appear more beautiful and more
melancholy than usual during this time of year.

The
people of the kingdom was touched by the tragic story of their hero and
decided to celebrate the harvest festival during this time of the year
under the full moon. The festival has then become sort of a family
reunion where extended families gather together to thank their god for
abundance and appreciate the existence of their loved ones in their
lives.

Such romantic story behind the mooncake festival made me feeling a bit mushy. I guess it might be sweet to eat our last half of mooncake under the moonlight tonight.

Reference:  http://www.liao.ca/moon/story

Last July 19, I flew back to Manila because I would be attending a friend’s wedding and celebrating my sister’s debut in a week’s time.I was going home alone that I decided to bring my PSP to have something to do within the four-hour flight.Before getting it out of my bag while waiting at the boarding gate, I decided to have a quick look around to see my fellow passengers.I was greeted with a smile by a woman at my back and she asked me if I were Pinay.Of course I affirmed and from that time till we were asked to prepare for boarding, I have convinced myself that there was no more chance in getting to play DJ Max (a game similar to Dance Revo but this time you follow the music beat using your fingers instead.No significant workout value, but this game is just so addicting.)Anyway, as we were chatting about how her bottles of lotion were confiscated during the inspection, another woman approached us.They started talking until we’ve sat—together, with me in the middle.They were not bff (best friends forever) as I thought they were; they’ve known each other fifteen minutes longer than me and Sita, the first woman. And Maria, the second woman prefers to sit by the aisle because of frequent need to go to the washroom.

The flight was true enough almost four hours long, yet we did not notice it.And quoting the Filipino guy in front of us: “Amazing, from takeoff to landing, non-stop,” he commented quite sarcastically.He was referring to our continuous chatting with just a short nap break.He was obviously listening to our conversation which has some adult material that made me a bit uncomfortable at first considering our location.I cannot blame both women; it has been months for Sita and a year for Maria for not having a Filipino to talk to.Sita, who I thought had a good working experience in KL, told us how unforgettable her ordeal was.Often, there was hardly anything to eat that she buys her own food and instead of being fed by her employer, she ended up feeding her employer’s family who even get their share of her supplies.She had also left some of her things to her lady employer who had an eye for her things, from undies to perfumes.And so after working for five months, she asked her agency to terminate the contract which made her seven thousand pesos richer.Still she managed to put up with a photo finish smile.

Maria on the other hand is an entirely different story.She signed up with her agency as a server and after several weeks was placed as a kitchen crew.She suffers from asthma and it was very difficult for her to do her tasks in the kitchen.She might have tried convincing her employer to get her previous post but her fruitless efforts pushed her to run away instead until she met a guy who she regards as her savior. After few weeks of getting to know each other, she moved in with him until he was able to send Maria back to the Philippines without a criminal record.The problem was she has a family in the Philippines but now is in love with a guy seven years her junior.When Maria and I said goodbye to Sita at the Clark airport, Maria continued her story in the bus going to Manila. Speaking in hushed tones this time, she asked rather cluelessly:“Would God understand what I did?”I did not know what to answer.It was like she was asking two questions:one, would it be considered as adultery since she is not married to the one she’s living with in the Philippines and is the father of her two sons and two, is it wrong to fall for someone who saved her from possible imprisonment?I was thinking of these questions and of marriage as a mere legal process but commitment is still the issue, all at the same time that took me a while to answer a still doubtful “Probably.”I was so focused on my personal moral standards that I deviated from the real question and even underestimated God’s understanding.I then realized my foolishness that I quickly changed my answer to, “For sure.”There’s no doubt God would understand but it’s up to Maria how to deal with the consequences of her decisions.

By next week I’m going back to KL full of high hopes for family and career.Still with my PSP in my bag, I’m also bringing with me a new perspective on Filipinos weaving their stories outside the Philippines.I am about to start my own as well.

      It has been months since I’ve last written here, and I am excited that I’m updating my blog again. I had been studying and working during the past months. It was a period of late night reading and making lesson plans, racking my brains to come up with answers for my requirements for the course and then getting up early to go to work. In spite of this, I’ve enjoyed the experience and learned a lot about teaching. But one of the interesting parts of this experience was meeting people and knowing their stories.

      First, I wanted to tell the story of Jayn (not her real name) and why she decided to leave the Philippines. She worked as a teacher for several years and her last stint was with a public school in Laguna teaching highschool students. Imagine a class of 70 up to 80 students, with hormones raging everywhere, and there, a 4’ll’’ foot-high lady standing in front of the class teaching the English grammar. She did this everyday, walking around the classroom to make sure her voice is heard by all, or delegating work to group leaders to peer teach and for her not to strain her voice. There were times some students misbehave so she talked one-on-one with them to understand their background. She gave rewards and due punishment to those students who deserve it. By the time she left, her class misses her and some students even text her wishing she is still their teacher.

      Then why did she leave? Was it all a façade that she was enjoying her job as a teacher but deep inside her the task of making the students learn was a chore for her? For me to put an end to my questions, I asked. And that’s how I simply got to know the lady more.

      It all boiled down to love. What Jayn thought as a perfect relationship was not the same as how her two-timing boyfriend saw it. She’d hoped that he’d be her first and last but then we know the meaning of wishful thinking. In order for her to forget her first heartbreak, she decided to study TESOL (Teaching English to Speakers of Other Languages) and went to Thailand to teach English. Jayn told me that she should have followed her “calling” even before, for there had been offers for her to work as missionary in Thailand, but instead followed another calling, that of her boyfriend’s. Now that she has no more reason to stay, she accepted God’s calling and flew off. Luckily for her, she has the resources. If it had happened to me, I would just have to settle for a hundred bucks, go to the nearest mall and walk aimlessly until I get tired and order myself a Mcfloat to temporarily freeze my misery.

      The last time she emailed, she told me that she landed a part-time job teaching English to law students and at the same time working for her ministry. She hasn’t forgotten about her ex-boyfriend (I’m not sure if she still keeps his photograph in her wallet) but I’m happy she’s doing again what she loves.

      I’m hoping for a happy ending to Jayn’s love story, maybe in due time. Since I’m talking about love here, I might as well share my theory about love that has never been on my other classmate, Tita Lucy (not again her real name).

      Tita Lucy is a 60-year old woman who retired last year after working for the banking industry for more than three decades. She told us that teaching English was a total turnaround for her, the same in my case actually, but even though she kept on telling us that, she was able to finish the course successfully. Her books were full of stabilo highlights, that I have this another classmate Blake (by this time you already know if this name is fictional or not), who kept teasing her about her book, to our amusement. She said that it was her learning style, but it still didn’t stop Blake’s teasing. During our discussions, which include sharing personal experiences, Tita Lucy retells the story of her college life which always, as in every day, includes her crush Delfin Lazaro, the husband of the famous broadcast journalist Cheche Lazaro. At first we respectfully listened to her stories about Delfin but it came to the point when Blake had enough and started to joke around on how Tita Lucy might have followed Delfin in the UP campus with her fan hiding her face Maria Clara-like. I was forced to take sides with Blake and confirmed that Tita Lucy really can’t stop talking about Delfin. Tita Lucy, being such a jolly person, just shrugged our accusations and rode on Blake’s teasing.

      That was how I’ve come up with my theory on love that has never been, but then Tita Lucy is proud and happy with her Harry now even if her college days with Delfin is still fresh in her memory.

      Now it’s my turn to refresh my memory about the other people I’ve met during the past few months. I’d be writing about them again maybe on my next entries. I do not know if I’d be seeing them again, but I hope this blog would help me remember their faces and the laughter I’ve shared with them during those times.

Last week, I missed six calls from my husband.  I left my phone in my bedroom upstairs and was able to check it after I finished everything that I’m doing two hours later.  So I gave him a ring, for him to call me back. =)  He called back immediately and asked him, what’s all the excitement about.  He was so hyper in telling me the news that he just won in two raffle contests.  One gave him a 7-day free trial in a fitness gym, with a personal trainer, and what psyched him more is the second—an online contest he joined for the first time, won him an electronic gadget of his choice.  After spilling the hot beans, my phone went again to hibernation mode.

It’s amazing that sometimes, blessings really pour.  For instance a few years back, I won cash in the raffle of our division’s Christmas party and that same year in the company-wide yearend celebration, also won a gift certificate, which I used to buy my digicam.  I’ve done something really good that gave me good karma, I was thinking back then.  But I cannot think of anything so I resigned to the idea that most probably, it’s just my time.  Kung baga, weather-weather lang yan. 

Sadly, otherwise also happens.  A string of so-called challenges comes that tests our faith and also our wits’ end.   I exactly do not know how it feels for Indonesians neither for Bicolanos who have experienced such sufferings brought about by natural disasters that struck them last year.  It’s not the material loss that many are grieving for but the demise of their loved ones. And everyday, you’ll get to read and watch new stories of deaths and disasters, without miss each day.  When the wheel turns, it’s our time to experience some sort of failure and defeat.  But what is admirable in us Filipinos, it is inherent in us that we resort to the Supreme Being no matter how low we can get and luckily for many of us, we have our family and friends beside us who are willing to help, not always financially but emotionally and spiritually as well.  The mere fact that there is at least one person who loves us unconditionally, should give us second thoughts in ending our drab life as we view it.  And jumping from one of Edsa’s billboards is truly not a beautiful getaway.