Using Low Cost Airlines 101

1. A Philtranco bus/ shuttle has a regular schedule to and from SM Megamall and DMIA at Clark. The fare from SM Mega costs 300. There are four trips according to the boking andcreservation office of Philtranco - 6am, 7am, 11am, and 12 pm. There was an 1130 trip, however, when I arrived at the waiting area for the shuttle at SM. Reservations are recommended and can be made by phone at 851-8077 to 79. There were a lot of available seats though. I rode the 1130 am trip even when I was reserved for 12 pm. I thought I'd rather be early. There are no signages at the waiting area and no Philtranco personnel. I only got to confirm that I was at the right spot from the SM guards and from the other people who were already sitting at plastic benches when I arrived. The waiting and pick up area is located behind SM Megamall Building A, right across BPI and Watsons. It is along the same line as a row of FX taxis parked and waiting for passengers. The whole trip from SM Mega to DMIA took more than an hour and a half but less than two hours.

2. DMIA has an outdoor waiting area located at the far end of the building right beside the road corner and the sidewalk with street lights. This road is also where departing buses of Philtranco and Partas park and wait for passengers. Tickets for these buses may be obtained at tables set up by the bus companies at the arival area. Partas catersvto passengers that go to Northern Luzon, particularly Laoag. Passengers going to Baguio are dropped off at the Sison, Pangasinan stop of Victory Liner. Passengers pay separately for each bus line. The ticket obtained at the airport pays for the Partas trip from Clark to Sison.

Women's Section at the MRT

I got to ride the MRT today. It was a nice surprise that there's finally a women's section in the MRT.

I always thought that was necessary and it's nice to finally see it implemented. At least someone is thinking somewhere out there where the powers are.

I visited friends today... and felt what it means to "come home."

Homecoming, of Sorts 2

The Partas bus dropped us off at the Victory Liner station/ stop over at Sison. I thought that was convenient - at least the way Partas was able to arrange it.

It was raining when we got to Baguio. And that was three weeks ago. It's still raining now, although I heard a flicker of sun has finally come to my beloved hometown. Six weeks previous to my arrival it was already raining - everyday!

One guy said it was "deppressing" and that two more weeks of that will make him crazy. Two weeks of rain in Baguio made arriving in Quezon City quite refreshing. Although I love the rain, really - but it's weather that makes you want to stay home - and I had "business" to attend to.

There was a slight sense of disorientation when I was trying to look for a place. I actually got lost and got stressed trying to orient myself. Watching TV wasn't so disorienting. It's like you haven't left at all. Same shows, same TV personalities. Same drama formats.

So I'm back.

Now, what's next?

Homecoming, of Sorts

I’m back.
At least back in the Philippines.
I arrived at the Diosdado Macapagal International Airport at Clark on an Air Asia flight from the Kuala Lumpur International Airport - Low Cost Carrier Terminal (KLIA – LCCT). I had to spell that out because the words are a story in themselves.
Clark Kent and I spent the night at the airport. Like camping. We figured to buy a sleeping bag instead of staying a half night in a hotel. It was fun. Company matters though. The last time I did that (staying overnight at the airport) at the KLIA – LCCT, I just sat on one of the chairs through the whole night. I tried lying down on the rows of chairs… but I got up every now and then anyway.

Partas and Philtranco buses are already waiting at the Clark airport. There are attendants right before the exit doors and arriving travelers can ask information from them or make arrangements. The Partas buses go to Laoag, Ilocos and it’s probably the Philtranco buses that go to Manila. After buying a ticket from the attendant, I sat at the waiting area. Someone calls out that “Yung mga sasakay ng Partas, nandito na po ang bus” and that was my cue to drag my luggage to the bus. Passengers are allowed to bring the trolleys up to where the bus is.

I sat with a returning OFW from Singapore who came in from a Tiger Airways flight and who was also going home to Baguio.

Detachment in Process

My body was psyched to go see museums around Banda Aceh today. However, I have to do some of the dirty work that comes with travel, so here I am in an internet café checking for flight schedules. This is research work, really.

Music is playing overhead but they seem to have their playlist on shuffle I get a dose of hard earsplitting rock for five minutes and then a slow, mellow ballad after, and then a hip hop number. I suspect that this combination plus the insecticidal lotion I have on my arms and hands to ward off mosquitoes are giving me a headache.

Mobility 2

So... anyway, like I said, I now take the labi - labi... which is also cheaper because a bechak ride costs me at least 7,000 Indonesian Rupiah (roughly equal to 40 Philippine Pesos)... and that's when I take the bechaks that park at the market place where the drivers already know me and know where I'm going. If I take a bechak across the street when the market bechak drivers are not around, I give them 7,000 Rupiah but they complain saying it costs 10,000. I insist on the price that the other drivers give me but end up feeling bad that I had to argue with the driver. There's a certain dilemma that comes with it and I could justify my actions with the sense of justice as a rationale --- first I know that I can go ahead and give the Rp 3,000 difference and save both me and the driver the trouble of getting into an argument, on the other hand, it would not be fair to the honest bechak drivers who bring me to the same place and from a farther origin at a lesser price. Add to that, the labi - labi costs me only Rp 2000! (And that applies to the whole ride no matter how far you came from) Although if I take the labi - labi I can only go as far as the stretch of the main road... because I do not know which labi - labi goes along the exact route where I'm supposed to go.
It’s fine though because I get to walk. And that’s what I have been doing. I take the labi – labi, get down at the end of the main road where I cross a rotonda and take a ten minute walk to the office. It’s a good thing I do not pass too many people during the morning when I walk because a woman in shades does not seem to be a familiar sight – men, especially, seem to have that instinctive reaction to say “Hallo!” – and repeatedly even if you ignore them. I’ve started not to give it much notice. I have also started to listen to Stephen Covey on an mp3 player as I walk and that gives me another thing to concentrate on apart from minding the vehicles when I have to cross the road.
However, this routine would have to be short lived as this is my last week. It’s not so bad though... I’ve found a quiet stretch of a neighborhood street that I like; I walk with less fear, intimidation or indignance; I used more than two types of public transport system! This last one is a highlight... I think I associate my familiarity with a place when I have already figured out how to get around using the public transport system. At least, I got around.
Have a nice commute.. wherever you’re going. J

Mobility

I've acquired a new routine these past few days. Previously I would take a "bechak" - the Indonesian counterpart for the Filipino "tricycle" -- that mode of transportation where a sidecar that makes up the passengers' seat is attached to a motorcyle. The bechak has a very different side car though because it has a foldable roof. When it's folded down, a passenger can be thrown straight forward when an accident happens because there are no barriers at the side and front. The tricylce is also primarily made up of metal and encases the passenger to allow some greater feeling of safety and at least three persons can sit inside.
Anyway, I take the bechak from the basar or market which is very near my neighborhood. I have taken to own that term now - "neighborhood" - just last night when I was walking home, I actually felt familiar enough with a stretch of the place to call it mine, although I thought it was sad that I did not get to have friends from the neighbors (meaning the other houses outside our compound) - which are not many because there's really not much of a stretch of houses in our place - and even if there are, the houses are either walled or empty. We have enough "neighbors" though who we're acquainted well enough with - our housemates who occupy the other rooms in our house, our landlady and her grand daughters, the guys from the photo studio beside us, and the guards, occupants and other employee's of Clark Kent's staff house just across the street. We usually go neighboring there.
Anyway, and this is my second anyway, I started riding the "labi-labi" - this time the Indonesian or maybe Aceh counterpart to the Filipino "jeepney" or more appropriately the Visayan "multi-cab."
I know I said anyway the second time already, which means that I should have a long one coming - but I need to start looking that I'm doing work... so I'll describe my new means of mobility.. up next.

Ciao. :)

Reorientation

I took the morning off today. I did some housework to unclutter the space where I am to spend some time thinking of what I planned to do the weekend that passed that I did not get to do. Or just plain ask myself what I am supposed to do today, or for the rest of the month for that matter. In fact, I placed the calendar on a very conspicuous position so I could be made aware of the passing of the days. I don’t know, but when I looked at today and the weeks after it before the month ends, it seemed like so many days.

I have a pile of readings I wanted to read – but I’m really wanting to give purpose to my day, I placed them aside and thought I should write. Writing will probably do me better. When I am merely quiet, I can spend hours without anything running consciously through my mind. It’s like staring into blank space. My only achievement in that case would be having stayed quiet. Stillness has its own benefits. This moment, however, I want my brain to churn out ideas, or goals, a purpose for living, at least for this day or this week, or this month. An article about old people in Japan that I read a few weeks back had this quote from one older person: “People are happy as long as they have a goal.” It was pure wisdom. It also means that if I don’t come up with something, I am one unhappy person. I have to smile to that, or maybe chuckle, which I just did.

I had some scripts in mind, after a moment of thought. But there is one goal that could sum up whatever it is that I’ll end up doing. It was something which a newfound friend of mine said after a send – off meal --- “Just enjoy.” I think that’s what I’ll do.

Bumming

I am not employed now. I resigned. Just before July kicked in. However, I still go to one organization where I have volunteered my services, but I did not offer to put in a full day despite my freed up schedule.

It’s not a story worth telling – because it’s tiresome. But I have more time now, albeit no cash. Time, however seems to be running the way I want it – fast. Before we know it, our bags are packed and we’re ready to go. I’m almost in a rush to leave, actually, because I need to see my dentist.

Could you believe a toothache could actually motivate one to want for home?

The soul needs a physical excuse sometimes. And it takes advantage of opportunity when it comes.

Newsworthy

Clark Kent and I have been frequenting a restaurant set up at the World Food Programme – it was one of our best finds – nice food with generous servings and the ambience was homey enough we spend at least an hour there just soaking up the opportunity of eating comfortably outdoors. We’ve been going there so frequently the cooks already know us – greeting us or saying thank you in Filipino. It’s also the one place where we get to read newspaper.

We’ve been very impressed with the Jakarta Post – which is the English daily made available at the WFP restaurant. We would take our time to read through the pages and exchange articles, because we sometimes read different sections of the newspaper or different issues. Lively discussions would sometimes follow an article we’ve shared reading. We’d look for articles about the Philippines, and often we would see some picture and caption featured or some other item in the business section.

It was nasi goreng seafood dinner at WFP yesterday (Wednesday), and as our ritual we dug into the newspapers. A Filipino writer was in the opinion section – Neal Cruz of the Philippine Daily Inquirer. He wrote of caregiver openings for Filipinos that GMA was able to facilitate on her visit to Spain. Clark Kent read the article first and said “Ang pangit naman ng article na ‘to (This article sucks!)” after the first few paragraphs. I uttered the same comment when I got my turn to read.

In his attempt to criticize GMA, Neal Cruz in his article ended up degrading the thousands of caregivers that are working overseas sending precious dollars to our wobbling economy. He had successfully expressed how, to him, the caregiving profession was without dignity.
I’m sorry I don’t have the article with me now to quote some lines, or to give the exact title and date. His point, really, was to challenge GMA to create jobs for Filipinos in the Philippines, and not to gloat on finding “humiliating” jobs for Filipinos abroad. It was a good point – but he sort of bungled with how he said it, he ended up hurting countless OFWs instead of jolting GMA and her administration. At least that was how I felt, and I am not even a care giver.

Rained

It's a nice rainy day. Although I really couldn't see the rain because as I type this I'm cooped up in an office. I could hear it though and there's a cold, damp, grayness inside that makes you feel the rain even if you cannot see it. It's nice. It's a nice time for coffee.

Intricate Thailand 2

Hello Kulibangbang and Clark Kent,

Thank you very much for your e-mail.
I'm now sending you the full name of Bangkok city that you wanted to know. This is now 100% complete:
KRUNGTHEP MAHANAKORN AMORNRATTANAKOSIN
MAHINTRAYUTHAYA MAHADILOKPHOP
NOPPARAT RACHATHANIBURIROM UDOMRATCHANIWES MAHASATAN
AMORNPIMAN AWATANSATHIT SAKKATHATTIYA WISSANUKAMPRASIT.

I hope that you will go back to Thailand again.
With warmest regards.
Charlie

Back to Work

Seutui, Banda Aceh

Our boss decided to have us go home today since it’s a Friday.

I have a boss now, yes. I have started to formally work and be a part of the reconstruction and rehabilitation work here in Banda Aceh. My CV got to a small Irish NGO that’s doing rehabilitation work for sports facilities all over Aceh. I thought that was pretty cool that someone had taken the task of giving attention to these community facilities. Most of the more than five hundred NGOs here both local and international have given attention to building or rebuilding houses, clinics, hospitals, schools, and government offices. Things have just begun though so there’s that awkward, chaotic phase of trying to put things to a start. Since the project is also funded by the UNDP, so there’s that funder – contractor thing that could be quite stifling depending on how things are going. The guys that are working with us seem to be cool though – at least from the few meetings where I have met them. The first time I joined a meeting, I was quite surprised how they seemed so open, and they seemed quite sincere in providing support in coordination and ensuring a lot of feedback.

There’s supposedly a lot of field work in the sports facilities rehabilitation project. Our male colleagues however have the impression that I was hired for office work. Which is fine – there’s work that needs to be done at the office anyway – and I have opportunities to do low intensity field work, that is, “kaladkarin,” just a part of the entourage. I think I also have to understand that it’s also probably awkward to have a woman dealing with heads of villages who are men. I have yet to hear that our office is transacting with a woman village leader. I was able to attend three community meetings during the initial phase of discussions and in all those instances I was the only woman in the group and I wasn’t even in proper attire. At some point, I think that I was invisible, somehow.

I’ve had frequent walks to and from the office already. There is now a familiarity with the place and I now have my geographical comfort zones. I think, however, that I have developed a growing fear of the men in the places where I walk. I did not get used to the cat calls and whistles, uninvited hellos and the “psst-pssts” (we thought that was exclusively Filipino, we were wrong) and the ogling brought by my obvious mark as a stranger. There are many gentle men that I have met from the locals and nationals… but still, some reason, including the awareness of this culture’s bias on gender must have affected me. It’s not so bad.

I have also volunteered for a childrens’ INGO on an ECD project with the ECD advisor. Things seem interesting, especially since the end goal is to have a system in place – which makes every little task valuable. Even the filing and the researching that I’m supposed to do is worthy enough contribution to what could be a big contribution for Indonesian children. Of course, I’m probably just trying to perk myself up – give meaning to things, etc.

So there, I got myself something to do for the next three months that my husband and I are supposed to remain here. I remember a note posted in one co-worker’s desk back in the Philippines. She was hired to do some stuff with coordinating and fixing or whatever for a major program. It’s a good reminder. “Make a difference.”

Intricate Thailand

Dear Charlie,

How are you? You might remember us as Roby’s friends from the Philippines. It has been two weeks since we had that tour of Ayutthaya with you. I thought I should send you this email lest you think that we forgot about you – which of course, we didn’t.

We’re back in Indonesia now. Back to work and the routines of our current life. Just recently, we had another look at the pictures we took on our trip to Thailand. It was nice to remember all the magnificent places we’ve been to. It was hot and you’re right to say that after a while we’ll get bored with seeing temple after temple after temple. Still, till the last place where we went, we were very impressed. In Ayutthaya, for example, the ruins and the history behind them was something we really appreciated. It was a testament of the grandeur of Asia – for centuries. I believe the people of Thailand have a certain pride in having established kingdoms even before the western countries colonized other Asian countries. It must also be a source of strength for you as country to know that.

Before we left Thailand, we had a tour of the Grand Palace in Bangkok and the indoor Lying Buddha. It was amazing just looking at the intricate and elaborate details inside and outside the buildings and the structures. They were very beautiful and I could only imagine all the time, energy, and money that were used to complete them. More amazing, I guess, is how many of the things we saw were built even before the advent of technological advances or machines, for that matter. It was quite overwhelming but it was proof of human capacity and how else can you not wonder at what greater capacity there could be in the Divine.

We must not have thanked you enough. It was really great just knowing you and hearing your stories and your explanations about the things we saw or even the things we haven’t seen. I hope you already remembered the missing words in Bangkok’s full name. We hope, too that more people will get to know you. You are part of the nice memories that we have of Thailand.

We hope to have a chance to meet again in some way. But until then, we wish the best for you and your family.


Your friends,

Kulibangbang and Clark Kent

Singapore's Little Acts of Kindness

Singapore’s Little Acts of Kindness

This has been coming late, actually. It was more than two months ago when Clark Kent and I passed by Singapore – each of us coming from two different ends of the world.

I came from Malaysia, in one of Air Asia’s cheap flights from Clark/ Diosdado Macapagal International Airport. I took the acquaintance of my seatmates and I stuck to the Boholano Girl who was going back to Kuala Lumpur (KL) as a Jazz Singer. We had to sort our luggage at the Kuala Lumpur International Airport (KLIA) – she had to look for luggage she left behind, I had to look for a place to leave my luggage behind. It was originally intended that Clark Kent and I should meet at KLIA, but some schedule changes happened at the last minute so we had to meet at Singapore instead.

I stuck to my Boholano friend, as it was my first time in Kuala Lumpur. I thought it a blessing that I happened to share a seat with someone who could help me around a strange and new place. We rode the thirty minute express train to KL from the airport, but I had to find my own way now to the terminals leading to Singapore. The information desk at the train station was open, but the trains to where I want to go have left and the next train will be the next day. I thought I could sleep in the bus instead, having made my internet research, so I took the option of looking for the bus station. I did get myself to the bus station successfully and I waited around an hour more before the bus left at 11 pm. Because it was a six to seven hour trip, the bus had to “stop over” at a half-way point. Apart from that, however, we had to go down at immigration checkpoints – one for leaving Malaysia, and the other for entering Singapore. I left my research notes at KLIA and my working knowledge of what to do was left to merely following the lead of my fellow passengers – and our bus driver’s questioning statements when I wasn’t going down the bus when all the others have already left – He did not notice, I think, that I did not understand any word he said – except that I knew I was supposed to do something. I took a while in the checkpoint entering Singapore – not because I was smuggling illegal items – but because I thought that was the end of our destination. I realized later, after I followed the exit signs that the bus I was riding had left me – and I was not yet in the terminal where people going to Singapore should get off.

So there I was at Woodlands, at four am and no Singaporean dollars. I decided to find my way farther into Singapore from Woodlands. I did not want to get into the other buses who were coming in when the driver who said he would get me in his bus asked me how much I will pay. But first, I needed to get myself dollars to get around.

I walked to the exits leading to the Woodlands market. Because it was still four am, there were barely any stores which were open. I had to find a place to sit and I need to have a plan. The money changers at the market, I was told, will open at seven am. I set my counter to three hours and tried to sit, walk around, and think. At around six forty-five am, a money changer opened. Good thing I had extra Malaysian Ringgit with me – because they don’t change US Dollars. Now I had the money to get by. While I was sitting and watching, I noticed that there was a bus station right in front of the market. The plan was for me to get myself to Queen’s Park – because that was where the bus that left me was supposed to go – and then go to the Chang Mi Airport from there – where I was supposed to meet Clark Kent – through yet unclear mechanisms. He was flying in from London, and the only means we could communicate was through our Globe roaming mobile phones – and we could not use that as leisurely as we want to, no, we could not afford to use that as leisurely as we want to. There were only two messages I sent, in fact. One that said I’m lost in Woodlands, and the one that said, “I’m going to meet you at Chang Mi Airport, wait for me there.”

I took my time at the bus waiting area observing the people and trying to find a friendly face to ask. I got myself near someone who looked like he was a student, and therefore, pretty fluent in English. I assumed. The script was, “Which bus number goes to Queen’s Park?” And then, when I get there, I take the MRT to Chang Mi. Throughout our conversation, I guess he was interested enough to ask what I wanted to do at Queen’s Park. Knowing now that my ultimate goal was to get to Chang Mi, my friendly Singaporean friend (who did speak English quite well – and Chinese too), suggested to take another bus instead – which would go to the central bus terminal and from there take another bus that would lead straight to the Airport. Now that was information I needed coming just at the right time. It turned out too, that my friend is taking the same bus. But I did not stick with him this time, not wanting to burden him with having to take care of a stranger. When I got inside the bus, I did not have coins and I did not have a bus card, and I did not know what to do because there was no one else to follow who was in the same situation as I am. I tried to pay when I got down the bus, but the bus driver couldn’t take paper money and just let me down. That was a free ride I did not expect – and the driver did not holler or grunt at my ignorance – but rather smiled and let me off with a wave. How nice, I thought. How nice.

Now, when I got down, I already had a plan. Find the bus that goes to the airport – but I have to find change for my money first. I thought I’d give a thank you wave to my friend before I proceed --- but he found me first and volunteered to accompany me to have my money changed – and then walked me to the place where I was supposed to wait for my bus – and he was already two floors away from where he should take his own bus! Talk about hospitality! I could not do more than thank him profusely --- and I did not even get to ask his name. That was more than nice. More than nice. I think I had the best things to say about Singaporeans during those hours. But there was more.

Clark Kent and I eventually, and quite Providentially, met and found our way around Singapore. There were a few days to spend and it was a weekend. Sunday came and we thought we’d look for a church to attend. Because we were staying at the Inn at Temple Street in China town, I searched for the nearest church from the many maps of Singapore that we had.

Fairfield Methodist Church was only a few blocks away and the walk towards it was already interesting. We were running slightly late, however, because the English service should have started at eight thirty am. When the service was over, a man came over to us and asked if he could minister to us for a while. There was nothing to lose, and a few minutes of fellowship would not hurt. Mr. Chan Siew-Long found us a table and brought drinks. After the initial introductions, where we stressed we were only visiting and leaving the following day, he proceeded to tell us of the things they were doing at Fairfield – particularly, the Yong-En Care Center. Then we got interested. Fairfield’s heart for China Town so impressed us – especially the hidden poor rarely seen in affluent Singapore, we were asking more questions than we expected. Here was the church at work.

Mr. Chan was seemed also genuinely interested in us. Knowing we were just visiting, he knew the chances of seeing us again or of us going back to Fairfield would be closer to zero than anything. We were not dismissed however, instead we were given pointers on where to visit, a very interesting peek on Singaporean society, and knowing that we were Filipinos, directions on where the Filipino church was located and the schedule of their gatherings. Before we left, we were invited to have a look inside the church premises. The location itself was already a treat to us because the church building was culturally and historically significant in Singapore. We were lighthearted as we left, encouraged and inspired by the example of Fairfield. Now that was something nice. Nicer.

Singapore is impressive in itself. Its growth from a simple merchant trading port to a world-class economy is already an amazing story. People sometimes talk in disbelief of the discipline that the Singaporeans exhibited in their economic journey – but it is a story much envied by peoples and nations – especially its Asian neighbors.

I left Singapore with memories of grand structures, spic and span boulevards, awesome public shows and displays – things which I have taken many photos of. But I will also remember the things which I wasn’t able to catch with my camera. Little acts of kindness. Great little acts of kindness.

Reflections From Lamnga

As we approached the community center or meeting place, Nova, our interpreter, thought that only a few people came. We were supposed to meet the older people in this community. He had previously informed us that we were coming in as foreign teachers from one of the local universities in Banda Aceh. There was a seeming discomfort about the notion of taking in false identities using a legal institution but it was the most convenient way to do things at the moment. Apparently the academe invites more trust and introducing ourselves as a non-government organization (NGO) might prompt an expectation of aid. Something we do not really want to happen. Geoffrey, the overall coordinator of this Indonesia meeting, had sternly warned us the day before “not to promise anything” when we reach the community we were supposed to visit today.

Our team of five took off our sandals and followed Nova’s lead as he did the traditional greeting formalities. A sort of handshake, taking both or slightly touching each others hands and pulling your right hand back to touch your nose or your chest. There were initially twenty women inside, so there was already much hand clasping and touching and greeting. When the formalities were about to taper off, the men came from the other entrance of the meeting area, but the women from our team seemed not so sure of the appropriateness of doing the same greeting towards them. Nova and the other male member of the team did the customary greetings.

As we sat down, more and more older people came in until we ended up to around forty women and twenty men. The men were on our left side and the women were on our right. Some of the men sat on the middle of the room, facing the other men, creating a sort of wall between them and the women. The community leader or “katchi” had not yet arrived but we decided to go ahead with the introductions and the supposed purpose of our visit. Nova had to sit down while talking to one side, stand up, walk to the other side, sit down again and talk, and then he’d have to stand up, get back to our side of the circle of people and interpret the responses and comments. He is not a local of the place, and in fact had apprehensions on the people’s response because he was originally from one area of the country that was generally disliked by the local population because they seemed to have a hoard of government power among them. His feelings were unfounded when the meeting progressed, but he had difficulty since there were only a few in the group who knows Bahasa Indonesia. The Acehnese language was considerably different from the national language that another translation was required. There was one woman doing the interpretation for her group, and the men seemed to understand, nodding their heads as Nova spoke. It was only when the katchi, a handsome man in full traditional garb in his mid forties, arrived when the men started giving responses at length.

About a hundred families from the community were lost to the tsunami. The two hundred sixty families that are now living in the community in Lamnga have “barracks” as their homes for the moment. It is not a relocation site, however, since the people have already been living there before the tsunami. Barracks are temporary housing units that can house five to ten families. A single structure is divided into several doors so each unit is relatively private. The toilet and bath facilities are communal, and water sources are from water tanks donated by various international NGOs. The government owned water company had already installed pipelines but water has yet to be distributed from them. The nearest health facility is three kilometers away, and a clinic was to be set up in the camp. A children’s center was right beside the community meeting center where we were congregated. There is also a nearby school for older children. Education seemed important to the older people as their children and grandchildren all went to school, until college.

When the old men were asked what they do during the day, they said they do not work, but include among their hobbies watching soccer on the soccer field within the camp. Chit chatting and getting together was also a daily activity. They are currently living with their families and so most of them do not cook. The three men, who raised their hands when they were asked who among them cooked, were the ones who were living alone. Only six women in the group claimed they were living alone. The women plant, fish, and look for food to sell during the day. They do the usual household chores as well, including cooking. Although originally fishermen and farmers, not many go out to the sea anymore. Fishing is done in water trapped from the sea, and therefore not requiring boats and other fishing implements. The responses to their daily activities generated a stifled chuckle from our team as we figured the men chit-chat while the women fish, plan, and cook.

The number of older people who came to the meeting was a general surprise for the team. Highly cooperative and organized, they came to the meeting through the katchi’s mobilization. There was no formal organization in the community. I wondered if the meeting was something fun for them, as older people, knowing how the psychosocial interaction is very important, and whether there were similar meetings that happened before.

When asked when a person is considered old, they responded that fifty was considered old, when one cannot work anymore. Before the tsunami however, even those who were fifty were economically active. The tsunami has rendered, somehow a weakening effect, but probably not physical. One of their responses, as interpreted, was a “loss of spirit.” It was probably not generally the fear of another tsunami that does not lead them out to the sea anymore. Nova said it was more a sort of despair, that no matter what they do, no matter how they pray, their families cannot come back anymore. There was seemingly a lesser purpose to living when everything that you had been living for had been washed away. With the influx of external aid that came pouring to Aceh after the tsunami, I think that it is the spirit that also needs healing. The people’s resilience will manifest even without international NGOs helping them, but the trauma of the tsunami has not only affected their livelihoods, their health, their social protection rights, but most of all their hearts and spirits.

Looking at the older people that were all around us, we appreciated as a team how they did not seem desperate or depressed. The session did not become a wish list meeting and some of our team members actually had the impression that the older people we talked with were seemingly happy. They did not even scramble for the meager fruits and water that we brought with us to supposedly share with them. Not expecting their high turn out, each person could only be given a piece of fruit. The men took the role of serving as they distributed the fruit, to the women first. The others waited patiently for the items to be handed to them. Some of the men did not even get to have anything, but there were no complaints.

Issues of older people cannot be ignored. It is easy to ask organizations why they do not include older people among their agenda, and we probably know the answers as well. I think the better question to ask is “how can older people’s issues be included in organizations’ agenda?” It is less threatening and allows for less defensive responses. It is also asked in another perspective – that older people’s issues can be included in the agenda, because they should be, we just need to find a way.

The visit to Lamnga was too short to know the older people and the community well enough and come up with conclusions. Maybe someday HelpAge, or its partners, can go back and take more time to make friends. To listen to older people’s stories and what they have to say. To capture wisdom. To impart appropriate new knowledge. To assist them live life anew. To help them in their healing. But then, older people already know how to do these themselves, sometimes though it only takes a little collective action, a little twitching of the arm, a little pushing and pulling.

I hope that Lamnga’s older people will one day find the stronger of themselves – helping each other and other communities in their capacities as caregivers, healers, educators, and leaders. Because they can.

Letter From Banda Aceh, April 2006

April 2006
Dear Hotaru,
Singing from the nearby mosque is being played on the PA system – for all men to hear. Everyday is like that here in Banda Aceh. Five times a day, starting at five am, the prayers are blared from the speakers. Where there are no speakers, they are played on the radio so you could hear it anywhere you are. After a week of being here, I’ve gotten used to waking up in the mornings because of the prayers. Later this week, I think I have succeeded in sleeping through it, awaking only on the last few minutes before the place returns to the silence that rightfully belongs to the dawn. I manage to go back to sleep. There are several loudspeakers not all broadcasting the same thing and it becomes noisy sometimes. But I have to appreciate how you could not go through the day without being reminded to pray. Everything stands still at one to three pm on Fridays here. People stop, literally, and spend the afternoon in prayer. The expats around have to make sure they get to places where they ought to be, because the local drivers would have to excuse themselves at one pm.

Before we moved to a rented room, I have been spending most days this in the staff house where Clark Kent is assigned. I couldn’t yet manage to go out far by myself because I still haven’t figured the public transport system, and not many people speak English. I also add, as an excuse, the heat. It’s warm and I have to wear long sleeved shirts or blouses. It’s also not easy to go around. Banda is sort of like first class rural Philippines. Banda Aceh is quite a big place though. Not something you could readily tour by walking around.

No job offers came in the five weeks since I started sending out applications, so I guess the job hunting was not as easy as people said it would be – what with the multitude of NGOs that are here. But then, efforts have shifted to transitioning and turn-over work to the locals so job openings for organizations are mostly for locals. I’m shifting to offer my services as a volunteer instead, since it’s already off-timing to start work when Clark Kent’s contract is almost about to finish.

Clark Kent and I temporarily stayed at one of their office’s staff houses. It’s a nice big house with nice big rooms, each with its own bathroom. There’s a garden outside and some fountain-like structure inside, although it’s not working. The owner must be pretty rich. There are quite a lot of houses like this around. I think it was the week before when we had a tour of some of the houses in other areas – also relatively large houses. Some of the Indonesian staff from Clark Kent’s office, knowing we were looking for a place to rent, wanted to help us look around. People were actually willing to move out of the houses they were occupying so they could rent them out to expats ---- at gold mine prices. The influx of international NGOs here has created some sort of gold rush. It is very disturbing for me. This whole rebuilding and rehabilitating Banda Aceh thing is very disturbing for me. It has been a year since the tsunami. During that time, hundreds of people came and are still coming, millions of dollars were spent and are still being spent…. And yet there are still 60,000 people living in tents in the areas affected by the tsunami. This does not include the area where I am. Or where I see most of these foreign samaritans are.

We are now staying in rented room across the staff house. This one belongs to a nice widow whose husband died recently. Five granddaughters whom she has taken care of herself live with her, and one of them is about to graduate from medicine. She would always invite me to come visit her because she knows I stay alone in our room and she’s wanting company because she’s alone during the day. We’ve had some very interesting conversation.
Except for the occasionally disturbing thought that I am not producing a personal income with my time, I’ve been appreciating this time of not having to be tied down formally. I get to have a lot of quiet time. I still don’t have God’s answer on the other purposes of why I am here – including, for example, my contribution to society… but I have learned enough of God that there is also purpose in waiting. So for now, I wait. And try to make my soul ready.

I hope all is well for you this time, wherever you are.


Write me.

Kulibangbang

Dress Code

It's amazing, how one pair of shoes, or one blouse, or even a clip on your hair could change everything about you. Power in small details.

--
http://mahiwagangbaul.blogspot.com
http://findingsupergirl.blogspot.com
www.hirayalibraries.org
www.neoversity.com.ph/courses/

Blues of Permanent Employment

Should I be glad, I wonder, that I am not embroiled in government office politics. Tenure, position, promotion, etc. I think it takes people away from the real job... and it's sometimes sad how these things become the issue.

Sickening. It's sickening. I think that is what I feel.

Jealousy Pill

Wrote this not recently... so it's old emotion. Just for the archives.

There is a cure
To my pain
If I could
Fall
For you
As I did for him
If I could
Whisper
Your name
With a fondness
As I would
His
If I could
Touch
With the same
Tenderness
The works of your hands
If I could love you
As he did
Because
You will
Never
Go away
And it reduces me
And it hurts
But if
I could love
You
If
I could.

The Daily Commuter Vol. I Issue 1

I was in the FX this morning, on my way to work, when an architectural student of UST boarded from somewhere in Quezon Avenue. I assumed she was an architectural student because the label in her uniform read “UST College of Architecture.” I couldn’t help steal glances at her because she was so beautiful. White, smooth skin. Brown eyes and long eyelashes. Moles scattered in the right spots. Lips with just the right fullness and color and parted really nicely while she glanced about at the road. Hair that fell in just the right places. It’s amazing to see beautiful things. It never fails to make me praise the Creator for his brilliance. Amazing, too, how I have forgotten my own physical insecurities while I’m writing on this and focusing instead on the creation and the Creator.

Music Therapy

I've been trying to pep myself by listening to classical music since yesterday. I started with googling for midi files for Pachelbel's Canon, but I figured variety will do me more healthy.
Right now I'm savoring the collections from Midisite.

Tortuous

I know that I can make this day just pass by...
I can wait for time to crawl,
And I will flinch in every way as it does,
But I know
I can let it go that way
And I know
It will torture me
At the end of the day.

The Daily Commuter

Now, how does that sound?
"Digests of a Girl on the Road"
Or something like that.

The morning's almost over. I have successfully spent five minutes for "official work."
I'm keeping this window open in case some thought pops up and I need a distraction. Like I'm not already distracted.

I am totally blank.
I think, that I have lost all abilities for analysis, if I ever had them.
Why am I bashing myself now?

Maybe I should change my title to: "Stuck"

The Daily Commuter headline for today was supposed to be a story on one of the children-vendors that sell rags and flanel cloth along the EDSA - Quezon Boulevard Area.
I shall hope to write something about it some other time.

I have waited for lunch. And it has come.

I have successfully made a rambling.

Office Work

For the past few days, most of the stuff I've been doing was copy/cut-paste text from one document to another. My forefinger is already sore from doing the task. I'm typing with my forefinger raised and using my middle finger to type the keys assigned to the forefinger on the QWERTY keyboard. I think I have pressed the backspace key, probably twice, more than I did the correct keys.

Lethargic

I somehow have the feeling that I'm wasting government money during the past days that I've been reporting to work.
This "ability to work without supervision" that I have bravely put in my resume does not seem quite accurate with my outputs in my current job.
How, indeed, do the things I'm doing at the moment contribute to making the world a better place for children?
There must be some self motivating mantra in here that I can use.... I can not go on like this.

Eksena sa Jeepney

I had this written when I was getting dramatic over my transportation boboos. I was supposed to add how drivers could also be very vulnerable - always at risk of having a passenger who is a robber or a hold - upper (is hold-upper a real word? or is that just Filipino English?), passengers who do not give the appropriate fare, or passengers who do not give their fare at all. And there are many stories about drivers' nightmares too.
Anyway, I got lazy. So I was not able to put the revisions that I wanted.

090105
Eksena sa Jeepney

People don’t care anymore... so it seems. And there is no better place to demonstrate this than in a public utility vehicle. Jeepneys, buses, FXs, taxis.
I usually try not to stress myself by hurrying to work in the mornings, but there are many days when one needs to rush and every split second is precious. But that is not what I wish to speak about.
I arrive here at work, more sad than indignant. I had been, during the past weeks observing how the public utility vehicle has become such a place of mistrust. A few examples:
A person asks if the jeepney will pass into a certain area where she wishes to go. The driver does not respond but allows the person to get into the jeep anyway. The person directs the question again to no one in particular, and the jeep moves on. The jeep was not going to the place where the person needed to go. I had to ask the woman again where she was going and told her to transfer to the other jeep plying that road.
I get into an FX from the Quezon Avenue and EDSA Highway intersection with the intention of going to Morayta. I gave a hundred and the driver gives me back seventy pesos. I was quite sure there was an injustice there (I allow myself to be corrected), so I asked the driver if the fare from the Highway to Morayta was really P30, in the hearing of my co-passengers. He said yes. My co-passengers remained silent. I got out still feeling overcharged and the feeling was intensified by the thought that the FX I rode in had the name, “God’s Resource” and the driver was tuned to a Christian radio station.
I get into an FX again, on my way to work. I get down at the boundary of Quezon City and Manila City, the landmark more popularly known as “Welcome Rotonda.” I paid twenty and expected at least a five peso change. Some drivers charge fifteen to that place from where I get in, but the charge ought to be only ten. I let it off when the driver charges me fifteen because I still think that it’s reasonable given the jeepney driver charges the same amount even with his less comfortable vehicle. The driver did not return my change immediately so I asked him for it during a traffic lull, repeating where I got in and where I was to get off, in the hearing of my co-passengers. He gave me a ten peso change, for which I was thankful. I then proceeded to take Nicholas Nickleby from my backpack and whiled the ride reading. I got quite engrossed, such that when I looked up from my reading, I was already at the railroad crossing at Vito Cruz. I was way far off from the landmark! I looked at the passenger in front of me and he avoided me with a knowing look. Nobody, not even my seatmates gave me a signal, and it doesn’t have to be awkward doing that because all they have to say is, “Miss, Welcome na.”

I appreciate the time when I was going to SM North from UP and there was a bunch of boys with me on the jeep. I sometimes have the habit of sleeping in jeeps when the route is familiar and long. I was surprised when I received a sharp tap on my knees. One of the boys took the effort to wake me up before they left. We were the last passengers on the jeepney. I somehow expected people to take such little gestures of social responsibility.

And the drivers also have their own share of horror stories.

But there are still greater reasons why the public utility vehicle is probably the most mistrustful place in the Philippines. Ask anybody who has been held up twice in an FX. Or someone who, while in an FX, witnessed a robbery going on at the jeep in front of them. Ask someone who would rather take the long route of hopping on the LRT and then on the MRT, only to avoid getting into a jeep or FX at ten in the evening. Ask anybody who sends text messages while his or her cell phone is still halfway inside his/her bag never fully exposing it.


For many people it is not already strange. Filipinos put up with little injustices and inconveniences as long as it does not happen to them. But it is very sad. If we cannot feel safe within our public utility vehicles, how can we feel safe in our country, I wonder.

Blessed!

The cleaning lady at our office came bursting in the conference hall where we and my office mates were having lunch. Quite agitated, most of us were afraid she brought in some terrible news as she held a newspaper in her hand and almost out of breath from emotion.

But it turned out to be an excited expression of happiness.

Her daughter was in the list of passers in the recently concluded licensure exam for teachers. She was so happy almost to the point of tears everybody in the room could not help but be jubilant with her.

Manang Vangie's daughter will probably become a teacher soon. Maybe then she would be able to take her family out of poverty. But Manang Vangie also rests hope on something else - and she is quite sure of it, so she says. Her daughter had come home after the exam declaring she would pass it - because she had the prayers of her church brothers and sisters and because the Lord has told her so. So Manang Vangie declares she will soon be rich with as much faith as her daughter showed. She had already sent ninety entries to the Nestle Christmas raffle promo, and she could feel it that she would win.

Some chuckle and go along.

But there was no doubt she was very happy today. Her daughter has just made her proud, and she's proven how God does take care of her and her family.

God bless them indeed.

FX Political Science 101

The driver of the FX I rode this morning has probably learned much from the radio programs he had been listening to. He made his own political and social commentaries while the radio anchor rattled on in the background. The other two passengers in the front seat were accommodating co-discussants.

Basically, it was Gloria. The radio had just announced some recent news related to a Gloria program.

“Plastic talaga.”

“ E ngiti nga ngiting aso na e.”

“Sinungaling na nga, ang galing pang magpalusot. Kababae niyang tao, di na nahiya.”

The driver did most of the talking. Mentioning how corrupt the government is already.

“Nung panahon ni Marcos kasi, isa lang nangungurakot. Si Marcos lang. Ngayon lahat na.”

That’s why, he said, the proposed budget has reached the trillion value mark. He thinks the President is trying to pay off the political debts she accumulated and the E-vat is also probably one of those means. He would never join any of those rallies, he continued. “Pero pag meron na yang E-vat na yan, sasama na talaga ako. Ang hirap nang magpagasolina. Linggo – linggo tumataas ng singkwenta.”

“Ang problema kasi sa gobyerno natin dalawa ang namumuno. Si Gloria at si Ramos. Makikining yung isa sa mga advisers niya, sasabihin niya dun sa isa. Tapos sasabihing di puwede. Wala talagang nangyayari.”

The conversation dwindled after some time. I couldn’t remember now how far it went. I had to get down. Taking note that the driver charged me five pesos more than my usual fare with other FX taxis and that his taxi had no name on the side. It was an interesting ride, nonetheless.

I guess the passengers had their share of live radio that morning. “Taxi driver commentaries” are sometimes entertaining but they are also the voice of the people.

Maybe the President should consider riding the public transport system more frequently.

Repackaged

October 6, 2005

While leaving the house this morning I was told how I already look like a government employee – which I am – at the moment and not the community organizer that I used to be. My beholder and I both wrinkled our noses on the thought. Not a bad thought, actually. This is, after all, the current show and I have my costume to wear.

The curtain’s up.

Jeepney Sin

Here's attempting to start being "engaged" with this blog.

It has been quite a while.

While the jeep I rode this morning was waiting for more passengers before taking off, a girl in long hair, short skirt and lots of make-up and jewelry got in and started rummaging her bag pockets. She found some loose change, which she placed in her coin box (because it was not a purse) and some loose paper and other bits of litter, which she promptly and unashamedly threw at the space behind the driver's seat and the passengers' seat. She got down at an area fronting a government office, which is probably where she goes to work.
The Philippines is not made filthy by the uneducated. It is the educated who do not care that makes this country so deplorable.

Poor Man's Lunch

092305 200 pm

I just finished a Jollibee spaghetti for lunch. I watched a man in slippers waiting for the rain to stop, before he could continue walking to wherever, I do not know. But he was already drenched by the looks of him. His feet and bag he carried already mudied.

I almost cried,  while I finished my last spoonfuls of pasta and saw him pass a glance at the colorful posters and the food on the customers' tables.

He was not a beggar.

I find less heart for beggars, I think.

I cry that the working man, he that makes an honest toil, has to be poor.  

---

Yahoo! for Good
Click here to donate to the Hurricane Katrina relief effort.

Help Build a Community Library

Dear Friends,

Last September 20, the Metro section of the Philippine Daily Inquirer featured a story on a notable project. I have included along with this email a copy of the article and links to the article's online version at www.inq7.net (http://news.inq7.net/metro/index.php?index=1&story_id=50715 ).

 

The project is called "Aklatang Pambata" - The Narcissa Abiad Community Library at Paltok, San Francisco Del Monte, Quezon City. The article tells much about what you need to know about the project... but there's more that needs to be done - particularly with the fund support to at least finish the renovations.

 

Fund raising is an awkward task, but it has to be done. I am personally asking for your assistance in this endeavor. The project accepts personal or corporate contributions through the following coordinators that are listed below. Please feel free to contact them on how you can send your contributions. You may also access the project blog at http://aklatangpambata.blogspot.com for more information.

 

The vision of the project is to pave the way in the establishment, development and improvement of community-based libraries in the country. The mission is to make children appreciate the value of reading; to make teachers, parents and community members partners in promoting reading in children; to be a model community library that can be replicated in other areas; and to make a community of readers.

 

Your contribution will help make this a reality. Help build communities. Help build a library.

 

Thank you.

 

 

Eleonor Baldo-Soriano

Project Assistant

Hiraya Center for Community Libraries

Aklatang Pambata - Narcissa Abiad Community Library Project

+639275363698

+63-02-928-7898

eleonor@lakan.net

Aklatang Pambata - Narcissa Abiad Community Library Project Coordinators:

 

Alistair Troy B. Lacsamana

Aklatang Pambata Project Coordinator

College Librarian II, UP College of Engineering

O: 9818500 local 3109

M: 09178290925

E: troybdude@yahoo.com

 

Ma. Lourdes Vargas
Asst. Professor
UP Integrated School, College of Education and UP Open University
University of the Philippines-Diliman
Mobile #: 0920-897-1333
Email: dedettejvargas@yahoo.com

 

 

This story was taken from www.inq7.net
 

---

http://news.inq7.net/metro/index.php?index=1&story_id=50715

Old house with a new role
First posted 00:24am (Mla time) Sept 20, 2005
By Julie M. Aurelio
Inquirer News Service

IT WAS AN OLD HOUSE, A Bahay-na-bato on a corner lot, 29 Mendoza Street, Brgy. Paltok, San Francisco del Monte, Quezon City. Engineer Edward Abiad and his family were moving away, but his mother, Narcissa, did not want to sell the house. She wanted to convert it into a community library where the children of Paltok could learn to read and read well. Now, through the efforts of Laging Pahinungod, a volunteer organization of the University of the Philippines Diliman, Narcissa's long-cherished wish is coming true. The Aklatang Pambata will soon be Paltok's own community library. The University of the Philippines Interior Design Class 179 is designing and renovating the ground floor of the Abiad house. Built in the 1930s, caretaker Eduardo Estrella said the Abiad house was originally a vacation place for the family. Bahay-na-bato structures Estrella said, were common until after World War II. The ground floor was designed as a "silong" or shed, while the second floor served as living quarters. Films like "Tanging Ina" and "So Happy Together" were shot on the second floor. Edward entrusted the house to Estrella as they were members of the same UP Diliman fraternity, Beta Epsilon. Community project "The idea is to set up a library and to make it a community-based endeavor," said Alistair Troy Lacsamana, Laging Pahinungod member and the project's overall coordinator. The community was involved in planning, getting the books, sourcing funds, as well as recruiting volunteers. Secondhand textbooks, he said, were solicited from the Cartwheel Foundation. Pahinungod wanted Aklatang Pambata to be a model community library that could be replicated in other parts of the country. Prof. Lourdes Vargas of the UP Integrated School and one of the project's major players said people who heard of the project, also wanted to start libraries in their areas. In July 2004, Aklatang Pambata got 25 boxes of used textbooks from the Cartwheel Foundation. Lacsamana said they hoped to get more children's story books for story-telling sessions. The Aklatang Pambata, he added, would also be a reading tutorial and resource center. Two elementary schools will be the main beneficiaries of the library: the Bayanihan Elementary School and the Paltok Elementary School. Even before the ground floor's renovation, story-telling sessions were organized. One session had children of elementary age as story-tellers. Important Sharon Betan, mother of one of the child storytellers, said having a community library was a worthwhile endeavor. "Reading is very important, and to have a community library would really help enhance the reading skills of children." Her daughter, Sierra, was a finalist in a story-telling competition sponsored by the National Book Development Board (NBDB). The other story-tellers were Nelson Capila Jr. and Czarelle Guerra, winners in the NBDB contest. The three are Grade 5 students at the UP Integrated School. Capile and Guerra told stories in Filipino: "Ang Mahiyaing Manok" and "Ang Batang Ayaw Maligo," respectively. Betan's story was "Bruhihi, Bruhaha (Mrs. Magalit)" in English. "It seems that the children find stories in Filipino more amusing," noted Vargas. Asked if his school had story-telling activities, a boy named Lorenzo said: "Hindi po. Binebentahan lang kami ng libro pero walang nagkukuwento." (No. They just sell books but no one ever tells stories.) Lacsamana related they did not have enough money to sustain the renovation. The Interior Design 179 class estimated the renovation costs at P1.2 million. The class had collected only P280,000, so they are looking for sponsors. The volunteers are also coordinating with the Sangguniang Barangay and kagawad for support to the project. Vargas said they were not worried about lack of volunteers. "People always come to help. And I am encouraged by those who eventually stay on to help with the project." The Laging Pahinungod now has 40 volunteers. Despite the obstacles, the group remains optimistic. "I always get a different sense of satisfaction and fulfillment when I see that the children are happy," said Lacsamana.

©2005 www.inq7.net all rights reserved

Learning The Trade

I have been quite distraught during the past few days. I have not been able to do work. I have been successfully flipping through papers and opening files but without much achievement in terms of outputs. In my case, at least a coherent paragraph that would consist a policy paper.

I have been agonizing on what to do or why I could not think or even simply comprehend the research reports I have been reading.

Today, I came to work with a renewed sense of motivation... I planned to change strategies and look through models, being seemingly lost and inexperienced that I am now.

Of course, Google was a savior. Again. . Search words: policy paper child. First on the search results: National Center For Children In Poverty.

Already, I found some good material that I hope to learn from.

---

Start your day with Yahoo! - make it your home page

Work Notes

http://www.ualr.edu/iog/format.html#PA

 

POLICY ANALYSIS PAPER FORMAT

 

The final policy analysis paper should be approximately 30 pages in length. The executive summary is especially important. The required format for the paper contains the following sections:

 

Title Page

Executive Summary

Table Of Contents

 

Background of problem

Description of problem situation

Outcomes of prior efforts to solve problem

 

Scope and severity of problem &emdash; quantify the problem

Assessment of past policy performance

Magnitude of Problem situation/Symptoms

Justification for the need for analysis

 

Problem Statement

Definition of problem

Identification of major stakeholders, their goals and objectives and positions with respect to problem

Identify criteria measures/indicators to be used for evaluation

 

Policy Alternatives

Identification and description of alternatives

Evaluation of alternatives with respect to the criteria

Project the outcomes for each alternative

Identify constraints, tradeoffs, and political feasibility of each alternative

 

Forecasted Effects and Analysis of Each Option

Outline impacts of each policy

Assessment of the positive and negative impacts

 

Comparison of Options

Evaluate (Rank) different options based on the different goals

Cost/Benefit Analysis

Other models

 

Recommendations

Description of preferred alternative(s)

Outline of implementation strategy

Establish provisions for monitoring and evaluation

 

References

 

Appendices

Tables, graphs, and other exhibits not suitable for the body of the paper.

 

Hope.

 

"All things work together for good to those who love God, to those who are called according to His purpose."

- Romans 8:25(NKJV).

 

http://findingsupergirl.blogspot.com

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I Was Once a Scientist....

... or at least I tried to become one - no I pretended to be one. Just to survive the rigors. And eventually concluding molecular science was challenging, very challenging... but it was not the piece of cake I can have and eat.

I did a thesis on an actin-binding protein called coronin in Acanthamoeba healyi - I am quite sure you do not care what that is, but it's a one-celled organism that you can find everywhere. It sometimes causes keratitis in contact lense wearers.

Too bad the paper cannot be readily accessed online... but the biblio entry goes this way:

Acanthamoeba healyi: Molecular cloning and characterization of a coronin homologue, an actin-related protein
Experimental Parasitology, Volume 110, Issue 2, June 2005, Pages 114-122
Eleonor T. Baldo, Eun-Kyung Moon, Hyun-Hee Kong and Dong-Il Chung

.... you can read the abstract, though.

 I also did a stool survey. It was more fun and rewarding, because I get to talk with street kids and give them deworming tablets. But the sample size was too small to make a significant contribution to prevalence surveys. The Korean Journal of Parasitology accepted my study as a "brief communication." The article can be viewed online for free.
Bibliographical entry goes this way:

BALDO ET, BELIZARIO VY, DE LEON WU, KONG HH, CHUNG DI.
Infection status of intestinal parasites in children living in residential institutions in Metro Manila, the Philippines.
Korean J Parasitol. 2004 Jun;42(2):67-70


That was my short stint as a scientist - in complete lab get-up and all. But that was just once. So call it a past life. :)

(Why don't I have formatting buttons in my create post window? I'm typing plain text and can't even post a picture!)

Hope.

 

"All things work together for good to those who love God, to those who are called according to His purpose."

- Romans 8:25(NKJV).

 

http://findingsupergirl.blogspot.com

Notes at Work

I found this three days after I first reported to work. I think these are the tasks I should be doing... I say 'found" because wasn't given a formal orientation and turn-over and I literally found these notes from the stuff left by the former occupant of the table I'm now using..

Research and Development Policy Analysis Process

1. Study results and recommendations of the study.
2. Define the problem: What specific problems does the study address?
3. Review of related literature:
a. Related laws (local and international)
b. Related studies
c. History of the issue
d. International experiences
4. Review and analysis if existing laws and programs.
5. Summary and initial analysis of the study
6. Concept paper for the round table discussion for specific issues
7. Round table discussion: Feedback of implementing agency on the study and initial analysis. (The R and D team finds it necessary to conduct a meeting among agencies concerned to input possible policy innovations.
8. Further analysis
9. Final policy paper to be distributed to the concerned agencies, WB and ADB
10. Two to three page summary for popular form
11. Round table discussion of specific policies to be recommended to the Board.
12. Meeting with Regions
13. Publication of Policy Paper in CWC website
14. Dissemination of the study to the Regions.

Playing with Ate Connie's Phone Camera

Lights around Hotel Dominique.

Barangay Maitim, Km. 55, Aguinaldo Highway,

Tagaytay City, Philippines

Excerpt: Pambie's "Surrender" Song

Chorus:

Today is a day of surrender.

I hang limp of my defenses and embrace YOUR many graces.

Surrender is the loveliest way to die.

It may strip me of the countless masks I have been wearing.

On my knees my contrite heart is weeping.

I painfully surrender to live in YOUR arms.

Street

August 18, 2005

On an FX bound for Taft

 

A kid defecates on the sidewalk.

His mother and siblings are on a mat not far from him.

The automobiles run along the highway.

Indifferent.

How can a mother allowe her children to live on the street?

It does not even support the argument of survival.

An organism that wants to ensure survival will seek the least harmful environment.

 

 

Crunch Time

I'm cramming.
And it's supposed to be a long weekend.
Quezon City Day tomorrow. We're allowed to take part of the festivities which means we get to have a holiday.

But...
I'm cramming.

Comfort Zone

The airport has become to me a familiar place already. Not because of the frequency of my flying and going to different places, in fact, the last time I rode a plane and that was after more than a year - was when I went to Boracay with my husband.

I have seemed to include among my love expressions, picking up or sending off a friend or a family member who is coming back or leaving the country.

It is also a sacred place - the airport. If you will only see the rituals that are constantly performed with each van or carload of people and baggages, with each announcement of a plane arriving or boarding.

Sometimes, it is so beautiful, you feel like hugging each arriving passenger or each relative or friend that is left behind.

 

Bon Voyage.

Welcome Home.

--
eleonor@lakan.net
www.neoversity.com.ph/courses/
http://communitylibrary.blogspot.com/

Meaning in Meaninglessness

A sense of meaninglessness is okay.

As long as it doesn't last more than it should.

A sense of meaninglessness for some becomes opportunity for reflection,

a desiring for wisdom, which,

when sought,

can be found.

www.neoversity.com.ph/courses/
http://communitylibrary.blogspot.com/

Back Breaking

I've been breaking my back formatting a table in Microsoft Word. That's all I did for a day! And my back actually hurts! (Did you notice the exclamation marks?!!!).

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More Tension Pains!

I actually had some work done! I love the Internet!

Now, how do I not get sued for plagiarism?

 

Sites About Iron Deficiency Anemia in the Philippines

 

http://www.tulane.edu/~internut/Countries/Philippines/philippinesiron.html

-          Contains data from the (1998) 5^th National Nutrition Survey conducted by the Food and Nutrition Research Institute (FNRI) as well as good information on legislation and programs.

-          Overview of The Micronutrient Report: Current Progress in the Control of Vitamin A, Iodine, and Iron Deficiencies.:   http://www.tulane.edu/~internut/publications/mns-synth0.doc

 

 

http://www.up.edu.ph/newsletter/1998/01/main.html

- This is an abstract of a paper presented during the Asian Regional Meeting on Nutritional Problems hosted by the International Society of Pediatric Nutrition (ISPEN) on 24-25 October 1997 in Bangkok, Thailand).

 

http://www.fnri.dost.gov.ph/htm/fncent.htm

-          FOOD AND NUTRITION RESEARCH INSTITUTE Homepage

-          Medium-Term Philippine Food and Nutrition Plan, 1999-2004

     (PHILIPPINE PLAN OF ACTION FOR NUTRITION - PPAN): http://www.fnri.dost.gov.ph/htm/ppan.htm

 

 

 

http://www.up.edu.ph/florencio.pdf

-          PDF version: Food and Nutritional Status of Filipinos and Nutrition Integration, Cecilia A. Florencio (2003)

-          Gives good recent situationer and evaluation of nutrition policies and programs in the Philippines

 

 

 

Tension Pain

I'm supposed to be seriously at work right now.

I'm supposed to read a research entitled "Cost Effectiveness of Deworming and Weekly Iron Supplementation in the reduction of Anemia Among Preschoolers: A Field Test" (Nutrition Center of the Philippines, 2003).

I'm supposed to.

But the laptop I'm using has a LAN cable connected to it.

And I have unlimited internet.

 

But, I really should get back to work.

---

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Rainy

I get to go to bed with a blanket over me

And the windows are even closed

 

Come, rain.

Come, wind. 

Wash away

What dust I have accumulated

On the surface

Of my streets

What dirt I have placed

On the crevices

Of my walls

 

 

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