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.  

---

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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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On Fear

From Rebecca Barlow Jordan's "At Home in My Heart: Preparing a Place
for His Presence (2001):

Fear is a strange thing. Ryllis Lynip says, "Our greatest enemies are
not wild beasts or deadly germs but fears that paralyze thought,
poison the mind, and destroy character."

Theorizing Baffling Emotion

I was taking notes on early childhood emotional development from
Daniel Goleman's Emotional Intelligence (1995) where LeDoux was
quoted: "The interactions of life's earliest years lay down a set of
emotional lessons based on the attunement and upsets in the contacts
between infant and caretakers."

Now here presents another theory besides PMS for some emotional
episodes that seem quite coming from nowhere: the amygdala, which is
the brain's storehouse of emotional memories, matures earlier and
faster than the other parts of the brain. It allows for the formation
of emotional lessons early on in a person's life – early emotional
memories that are established even before infants have the capacity to
describe or express their experience in words. Thus, some emotional
outbursts in adulthood may be "baffling" even to the person because
there were no words in the first place for the memories that formed
them.

Morning After

When you've been crying the night before, wake up early and let your
eyes open allowing them to subside from their bulging state.
I once had a friend in high school. She cried often over the many
events that had been happening to her young high school life. She
cried so often, even her crying would tire her. She wished God would
gouge her eyes out. I think she still has two eyes intact. I just
don't know now if they still cry often.
I had another high school classmate. When it was her time to report in
front of the class, she was so nervous she cried. But she didn't
leave, or run away. She stood and delivered her report, crying the
whole time. Our teacher did not stop her. The class did not forget it.

Closing Cycles

I got this from one of my email groups. I thought I should keep it - not because I have a problem closing chapters of my life that need to be closed, my ritual haircuts are a testimony to that. But I have other lessons to learn when you live with another's chapters and stories past, and memorabilias kept--- It is foolish - and yet they pain you just the same.

Closing Cycles
By Paulo Coelho

One always has to know when a stage comes to
an end.
If we insist on staying longer than the necessary
time, we lose the happiness and the meaning of the
other stages we have to go through. Closing
cycles,
shutting doors, ending chapters whatever name we
give
it, what matters is to leave in the past the moments
of life that have finished.

Did you lose your job? Has a loving relationship
come
to an end? Did you leave your parents' house?
Gone to
live abroad? Has a long-lasting friendship ended all
of a sudden?

You can spend a long time wondering why this has
happened. You can tell yourself you won't take
another
step until you find out why certain things that were
so important and so solid in your life have turned
into dust, just like that. But such an attitude will
be awfully stressing for everyone involved: your
parents, your husband or wife, your friends, your
children, your sister,
everyone will be finishing chapters, turning over new
leaves, getting on with life, and they will all feel
bad seeing you at a standstill. None of us can be in
the present and the past at the same time, not
even
when we try to understand the things that happen
to
us. What has passed will not return: we
cannot forever be children, late adolescents, sons
that feel guilt or rancor towards our parents, lovers
who day and night relive an affair with someone who
has gone away and has not the least intention of
coming back.

Things pass, and the best we can do is to let them
really go away. That is why it is so important
(however painful it maybe!) to destroy souvenirs,
move, give lots of things away to orphanages, sell
or
donate the books you have at home. Everything in
this
visible world is a manifestation of the invisible
world, of what is going on in our hearts and getting
rid of certain memories also means making some
room
for other memories to take their place. Let things
go.
Release them. Detach
yourself from them. Nobody plays this life with
marked
cards, so sometimes we win and sometimes we
lose.

Do not expect anything in return, do not expect
your
efforts to be appreciated, your genius to be
discovered, your love to be understood. Stop
turning
on your emotional television to watch the same
program
over and over again, the one that shows how much
you
suffered from a certain loss: that is only poisoning
you, nothing else. Nothing is more dangerous than
not
accepting love relationships that are broken off,
work
that is promised but there is no starting date,
decisions that are always put off waiting for the
ideal moment.

Before a new chapter is begun, the old one has to
be
finished: tell yourself that what has passed will
never come back. Remember that there was a
time when
you could live without that thing or that person
nothing is irreplaceable, a habit is not a need. This
may sound so obvious, it may even be difficult, but
it
is very important.

Closing cycles. Not because of pride, incapacity or
arrogance, but simply because that no longer fits
your
life. Shut the door, change the record, clean the
house, and shake off the dust. Stop being who you
were, and change into who you are.

Life Letter for April 2005

Dear Hotaru,

I should savor slow mornings like this – because I might not be having
them for a long time again after a while. Although Quezon City is hot
and the neighborhood is not really quiet at this time, I have the
luxury of an unhurried day. There are many things that could be done,
actually, but I take privilege to save myself the pressure of having
to be productive. I will not consider giving my soul a little pleasure
as waste of time. Besides, this will just be a few days of idleness.
I'd have to be up on my feet eventually.

I'm sure you're itching to ask me how it's like now. Married, and
being a wife. A couple of people have asked me that already. My best
answer was "Ok lang." "I have yet to find out how the other 99% of
wifehood is," I added. It's been just a few weeks after all. There's a
lifetime to look forward to, and a lifetime to figure the answer to
the question.

The weddings were nice. I'd have to add an "s" to that because the
wedding celebration is also referred to as "the wedding." My husband
and I had been quite pleased that the affirmation ceremony and
celebration with the community took a significance of its own and had
served its purpose very well. It holds just as much meaning as the
earlier solemnization that happened a week before it, as we have
wanted it to be. I remember feeling the pressures of organizing the
weddings that for quite some time before they were held I just wished
they'd be over. Now that they are, more than relief, I feel thankful
that they happened. I am thankful for the moment that was there, and
we were sharing it. And there are many people to thank. God has been
good. I thank Him most of all.

The day is almost half done. The soul is quiet and speaks not many
words at the moment. I should savor this slow morning.

I'd want to write you again even when the mornings are not slow
anymore. Until then, God bless you.

Kulibangbang

Life Letter for January 2005

January 4, 2005

Dear Hotaru,

I was wondering why our church's new year's eve service had no
candlelighting ceremony like it used to in the previous years. I never
did get to ask. Not that I saw anything wrong in it being absent. I
guess I just liked the idea of lighting a candle for the New Year.

January 6, 2005

My life has resumed to enduring the noisy highway side where our staff
house and office is located. It has been several days that I had
trouble sleeping. That is not something normal, or even frequent to
me. If, at certain times I go to bed with troubled thoughts, I would
be thankful of the respite that sleep would give me. I theorize that
it is probably the noise, since I did have quite a long enough break
and nights at our home in Baguio are a restful haven. The
sleeplessness might also be a manifestation of an excitement that is
nonetheless present, but which I have not been very expressive about.
Sometimes a rush of ideas could indeed keep your mind up and awake
even with your body's insistence to stop all activity. It's like
having drunk a lot of coffee, and the caffeine got into you.

How has it been? Has it been 365 days already… Here in the staff
house, one does not get to sit in front of the mirror for a time long
enough so you could talk to your reflection or make faces at it. So I
haven't had much time to notice how the previous year has changed me.
But I know it did… and it goes beyond my darkened skin complexion,
courtesy of the La Union sun, and my shortened hair, which I sported
when I started with my job, as a "new experience indicator", or was it
a "letting go ritual" for my previous life experience? Either way, I
did get to learn a few.

For one, the complexities of romance, and I still don't get it… but I
am enjoying it as it is – complex. I have always thought God's love
story with us is simple. He loved us so much that He gave His only
son. But then, when you start putting in the logic, and the intellect,
and the opinions of educated men, it all gets muddled up, we begin to
question: "What's love got to do with it?" We could never understand
how a baby born on Christmas could save us, but it did. We could never
understand how a man dying on a cross could save us, but it did. And
some people still don't get it but believe, and are saved. I guess
that's how faith could make all the difference. You simply believe.
Even in romance. And love has everything to do with it. But I will not
indulge you, so I shall keep that part to myself.

And again, for another, the complexities of changing the world. Or at
least promoting world peace. You learn that not all those in
development work are good people. You learn that even where people
"work" to make the world a better place, righteousness does not
prevail. Sometimes good intentions could go awry, which is usually
dangerous. But even more dangerous are seeming good intentions. Not
that I got burned or something. Reality bites. The world needs
transformers who themselves have been transformed. Christians can not
just watch the world go hungry, or at war, or in shambles and call it
signs of the end of the world. Jesus Christ was a development worker,
a community organizer, a women's rights activist, a children's rights
promoter. Why aren't His followers in the front lines of the battle to
claim heaven here on earth? I hope I am wrong to think we are not.

There are yet other bits and pieces of wisdom that have been learned
along the way. Humbling bits and pieces most of them. I still have to
earn the forgiveness of a friend. I fight the guilt feeling of not
having worked hard enough. I relish the joy of a child brought to the
home. I acknowledge the super heroes that are in mothers and fathers.
I am saddened over relationships broken. I still cry and wait for the
promise of a hope and a future for the Philippines. In all this, one
thing stands. God is faithful, and He loves you and me. We are foolish
to think otherwise. This love brings me hope, to which I cling. I can
be changed to become better. I can be forgiven. I can bless people. I
can love. I can serve.
So can you. Tell me your year-end story. I wait for it eagerly.

Hope. Take care. God bless you.

Loves,
Kulibangbang

"For I know the plans I have for you," declares the Lord, "plans to
prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future."
Jeremiah 29:11 (NIV)

Dear Daughter

There is much to learn after reading Cosmopolitan magazine for the first time, and I am already 27 years old. I felt like Rip Van Winkle waking up after a hundred years. But my initial shock of the modern Filipino perspective on relationships has now turned to fear. I fear for you, even though you are still yet only alive in my dreams. I fear for the world you will be growing up in when you would finally be born as my flesh and blood and not merely a vision that floats around in the amniotic fluid of my imagery.
I have quite a good idea of who your father will be, although I would be plagued by uncertainty when I realize how so many differences we have, including perspectives on virtue. I fear even more for you when you would be woman and have your own stories of young love.
The world has changed many times over on how it does romance. I have not really paid much attention to it so my lack of knowledge and experience makes me a most unlikely candidate for expert. I concede to knowing little and idealizing much, which explains why I should be so shocked at what is now reality. This will be the reality you’ll be growing up in and I wonder what you’ll say or do when you are told, “everybody does it.” I wonder if you’ll be like everybody else, because it’s hard not to be like everybody.
We have words for men we’ve dreamed to have in our lives – Romeo, Prince Charming, Valentino. I wonder if you’d still be using these same words or these same images when your time comes. I wonder if fairy tales would have different endings when they are told on your time. Amidst my wondering, I only wish that when there comes a man who would like to awaken your womanly passions so his manly desires may also be met, he would not be like everybody else.
He’d get to know you first, treat you as sister and friend and you’d get to know him as brother and friend without the pretention or pressure of havign to please just to make a conquest. I wish he’d know you so well, when he finally asks to win your heart, he’d be asking to win it so you could be his forever, and with certainty, because he has prayed for you for a long time and God said ok.
I wish he’d tell your father and me of his intentions so that we may know he respects us as your parents and that his intents are pure. I wish he’d still do special little things for you, even if you find them corny. I wish he’d write you love letters even in a time of emails and SMS. I wish he’ll take more effort to ensure that as you fall in love with him, you are falling in love even more with God, rather than demanding your whole attention towards him. I wish he’ll respect you and treasure you and keep you pure, even if he would have to restrain himself with much effort. I wish he wait in taking possession of your body and inviting you to engage in the ritual of making love only after you have both said your vows in front of God. I will not wish that you would someday grow up to be a Cosmopolitan girl. I wish you’d grow up to be a woman of character in a Cosmopolitan world, surpassing your mother, and grandmothers, because your challenges are far greater than ours.
Everybody might think you’re Rip Van Winkle, old fashioned, anti-modern, but then, you will not be like everybody and you will not do what everybody does unless it is right.
I wish.

Pambie Herrerra's Unrequitted 2

UNREQUITED 2

my hope for this love
needs no apology nor renunciation
for my words have fully ransomed
every part of me that remains indebted
to your repose

for my fragile affection
does not require from you
a shared awareness for this hurting

still in the dearth of your movement
i want to hear your whispering form
it may be the slightest hint of refusal
or an absolute abnegation for mutuality

no amount of atonement
not even that of my flesh and blood
can ever pay for this madness
a tumultuous longing
not to be reciprocated
just the delight of hearing you speak

so i stand circling on my syncopated space
waiting for the congruent rhythm of your tongue
stagnant without your initiation
just responding out of respect
for my words which fail to cross
the threshold of your seclusion

let not your lips be unspeaking
if your resolve is to shelter me from ache
of the truth of knowing my unrequited fate
let it whip my deepest bone if it has to
like the truth of the cupbearer's tongue
that cannot elude poison

so that it may save a part of me
that I have yet to give to you without reluctance
even in your final absence of ardor
for this love
that I desolately keep sacred

inside my

tamed box

- pambie, april 12, 2004

Pambie Herrerra in Filipino

PARA SA'YO NA MINSA'Y NAKASAMA KO SA AKING MALAYO-LAYO NA RING PAGLALAKBAY

sanay na ako sa iyong paglayo:
sa iyong malalayang hakbang
tungo sa kahit saan
basta wala ako o ang aking anino

sa mga kalsadang makikipot
upang hindi kita masabayan
sa iyong paglalakad

malayo-layo na rin ang iyong natahak
malayo-layo na para maabot
pa nang aking mga tanaw

minarapat kong hindi na lang sumunod
marahil nga, naakit na akong magpahinga
sa pampang nang umaalimbukay na ilog
o dili kaya'y bumalik na lamang
sa laot ng aking pag-iisa

binagtas ko ang daan pabalik
hindi dahil sa ako'y napagod
o nagsawa sa pagtugis
sa bulong ng iyong maiilap na yabag

kundi masakit ang makita kang malayo
kahit na isang dipang balikat lamang
ang sa atin ay nakapagitan

iyong pakatandaan:
ibig kong baunin mo paalis
ang apoy ng aking sulo
ang samu't saring liwanag
na nilagom ng aking mga mata
itong tungkod sa aking palad
hinga ng aking kaluluwa
na kaakibat ang lahat
pati luha ng aking salita

upang sa iyong pag-iisa
sasalamin sa iyong mga labi
mga ngiti at luha sa paggunita
noong tayo'y minsan ay nagkasama

subalit,iisa lamang ang aking pakiusap
huwag mo na akong pakaisipin pa
ipaubaya mo na ako sa ulan
sa araw... sa hangin... sa tala.

tangan nila, ako'y magpapahingalay
habang iniipon ko ang lakas
para sa bagwis ng aking naghihingalong paa

isang paghahanda:
sakali mang ika'y muling

bumalik pa.

-pambie herrera, setyembre 8, 2004

Paul Muego's Sharing in Payatas

Ang pag-ibig ng Dios ay di nagmamaliw

“I Love You?”
Ang pag-ibig ng Dios ay di nagmamaliw. Pero, ano nga ba ang pag-ibig ng Dios? O di kaya’y mayroon bang pag-ibig ang Dios? Kailan ba natin sinasabing iniibig tayo ng isang tao o iniibig natin siya? Ano ba yung mga sukatan natin? Katatapos lang ng araw ng mga puso. Sabi kahapon sa radio, magdaragdag ng mga pulis at mga tauhan ng MMDA sa daan kahapon para matugunan ang pagdagsa ng mga sasakyan lalu na sa mga lugar na kung saan may mga motel o mga inn o doon sa mga may sabay liko! Pati nga sa may Laong-Laan kung saan ang mga bulaklak galing Baguio ay ibinabagsak ay punung-puno ng mga tao! Lahat bumibili ng bulaklak para sa mga mahal sa buhay. Tapos sasabihin ng binata (at sana nga tunay na binata!) sa kaniyang sinta, “I love you” sabay abot sa bulaklak. Pero eto nga lang ba ang sukatan ng pag-ibig? Gano kaya katagal ang pag-ibig na sinasambit nila? Isang taon? Ilang buwan? O maswerte na kapag umabot ng ilang linggo? Kaya nga andaming mga unwed mothers o mga single parents dahil ang pag-ibig ng kanilang mga kasintahan ay nagmamaliw! Ngayong umaga pagninilayan natin ang pag-ibig ng Dios sa atin. Titignan natin kung paanong ang pag-ibig ng Dios sa atin ay di nagmamaliw sa pag-inog ng mundo, sa paglipas ng panahon.

Manalangin tayo.

Aming mapagmahal at maibiging Ama, ang pag-ibig sa mundong ito ay di gaanong tumatagal – napapagod, nawalan ng init at sigla, depende sa panahon o sa mood, depende sa maraming bagay na nakapalibot sa amin. Kadalasan O Ama na ang aming pag-ibig ay hindi tunay at ganap, na ang ito’y aming sinasambit lamang dahil na rin sa aming mga sariling interes. Maraming pagkakataon na binigo namin ang iyong atas na ibigin ang aming mga kapatid, lalo na ang mga maralita at kapus-palad. Ngunit sa kabila ng aming mga pagkadapa, ng aming mga pagtalikod sa iyong atas at halimbawa, patuloy mo kaming iniibig. Gabayan mo kami ngayong umaga O Dios upang makatagpo ka namin sa bawat isa sa amin na narito. Ipinapanalangin din namin Panginoon ang aming mga mahal sa buhay na sa oras na ito ay di namin kapiling. Ikaw din po ang gumabay sa kanila sa umagang ito at sa araw na ito. Tanggalin mo po Panginoon ang lahat ng makahahadlang sa aming pagsamba ngayong umaga at sa pagbabahaginan namin ng iyong mensahe. Ito ang aming dalangin sa pangalan ng iyong Anak na si Hesus. Amen.

Puno ng Pag-ibig ang Buhay!
Noong isang linggo ay nagpunta kami sa Sitio Banawen, Brgy. Maloma, San Felipe, Zambales. Pagabi na noong kami ay nakarating sa bario. May mga 3 oras din siguro yung nilakad namin sa isang halos tuyong ilog. Napakainit ng panahon at napakahirap lumakad dahil nga sa ang lahar ay tuyung-tuyo. Naglakad kami habang sa paligid namin nakikita namin na pati ang mga baka ay nakasilong. Bahagya din kaming nagpahinga sa daan dahil sa sobrang init. Habang naglalakad kami at sa mga panahon ng pahinga kami ay nagkukwentuhan at pinagbabalik-tanawan ang pakikipaglakbaay ng KKFI sa mga kapatid nating Ayta sa Banawen. Marahil kung ito’y isang gawain lang namin, matagal na naming iniwan ang mga Ayta. Ngunit pabalik-balik kami bilang mga hamak na instrumento ng ating Panginoon upang magpadama sa kanila na hindi sila nag-iisa (at upang madama din namin na hindi kami nagiisa)… na may mga magkakasamang nagsusulong ng isang kaunlarang dapat pinagsasaluhan ng lahat at di lang ng iilan.
Pagsapit ng gabi ay dumaan sa aming tinutuluyang bahay si Tatay Willy. Habang kami’y nakapa-ikot sa apoy at umiinom ng maiinit na kape ay nagpalitan kami ng mga balita at mga kwento tungkol sa buhay-buhay. Panay ang biro ni Tatay Willy kung kayat lahat kami’y tawanan ng tawanan. Sa gitna ng aming pagtatawanan, sabi ni Tatay Willy, “Masaya ang buhay...” Uulitin niya ito ng may karugtong, “Mahirap ang buhay gaya kung minsan na walang makain… pero masaya pa rin.” Sa loob-loob ko, “Ang lalim naman ni Tatay. Parang isang pilosopo.” Ngunit sa totoo lang hindi ba ang buhay ng mga kapatid nating Ayta sa Banawen pagkatapos ng pagputok ng bulkan ng Pinatubo ay isang patunay na ang pag-ibig ng Dios ay di nagmamaliw? Kinaumagahan habang nakasakay kami sa kariton na hila-hila ng kalabaw ni Tatay Willy sabi niya, “Ang aking buhay ay puno ng pag-ibig. Walang saysay ang buhay kapag wala itong pag-ibig.” Ano ba ang ibig mong sabihin Tatay Willy? Hindi nga ba ang patuloy ninyong pamumuhay sa Banawen, ang pagtubo at pamumunga ng inyong mga pananim na mga mangga, kasuy, at mga saging, ang pagsilang ng limang sanggol sa inyong komunidad… hindi ba ang mga ito’y mga himala na nagpapadama ng pag-ibig ng Dios?

Ang mga himala’y tanda ng buhay. Ang mga himala ni Hesus ay tanda ng buhay – buong buhay: pisikal at spiritwal; at tanda din ng di nagmamaliw na pag-ibig ng Dios sa atin.

Ang Habag ni Hesus
Patuloy na ipinapahayag ni Hesus ang Magandang Balita (Lukas 4:16-21) sa mga Sinagoga (mga simbahan) kung saan ang mga taga-Galilea ay nagtitipon upang makinig sa pagbasa ng banal na kasulatan at upang manalangin.

Ang taong may ketong ay itinatabuy ng lipunan. Sila’y itinuturing na mga makasalan. Ang kaniyang karamdaman ay kinakatakutan at sila’y kinamumuhian. Naalala ko tuloy yung inteview sa TV sa mga kamag-anak ni Adela Catalon. “Iniiwasan kami ng mga tao. Parang lahat kami may SARS,” ang malungkot niyang wika. Mahirap nga yung tayo’y iniiwasan ng mga tao sapagkat sa kanilang paningin tayo’y marurumi at makasalanan. Ang lalaking may ketong sa kwento ay hindi lamang nakraramdam ng pisikal na sakit. Ngunit ang mas matinding sakit ay dulot ng hagupit sa kaniyang pagkatao ng siya’y itinaboy ng dati niyang mga kasama.

Sa aklat ng Levitiko, ang mga may skin diseases (ke galis yan, o rashes, o simpleng alergy, o di kaya’y ketong) ay kailangang kumunsulta at magpatingin sa mga pari. (Lev. 13:1-2) Hindi upang gamutin sila ng mga pari ngunit para sila’y matatakan: malinis o marumi! Parang kapag pumapasok tayo sa bilangguan para dumalaw o di kaya’y sasalubong sa mga kamag-anak sa airport -- may tatak sa braso para maihiwalay tayo sa iba o para may palatandaang nagsasabi kung sino tayo!

Kung sakaling may ketong ang isang tao, siya’y sapilitang patitirahin sa labas ng siyudad (ang mga bayan nila noon ay may mga matataas na bakod). Hindi lang ito. Sila din ay kailangang sumigaw ng ganito: Marumi! Marumi! Ito’y kailangan nilang gawin upang hindi sila lapitan ng mga tao. (Lev. 13:45-46)

Naalala ko tuloy ang maraming maralita ng lunsod na patuloy na itinataboy dahil hindi daw sila kaaya-ayang tignan. Kagaya na lang noong dumating si President Bush, maraming mga komunidad ng mga maralitang taga-lunsod ang binakuran para hindi sila makita. Sa ganitong sitwasyon paano natin sasagutin o ano ang isasagot natin kapag tinanong tayo ni Mang Juan o Aling Maria na mga urban poor o yung lalaking may ketong sa kwento: “Nasaan ang di nagmamaliw na pag-ibig ng Dios?”

Ang lalaking lumapit kay Hesus ng may pagtitiwala ay may ketong: “kung ibig po ninyo’y mapagagaling ninyo ako” (Mk 1:40). Sa verse 41 makikita nating “nahabag si Hesus.” Ang ibig sabihin ng salitang “pagkahabag” ay hindi lang isang simpleng awa ngunit isang malalim na pagtanggap at pagdama sa sitwasyon ng kahirapan ng ketongin. Jesus made the man’s suffering his own. Sa isang iglap naki-integrate si Hesus sa kalagayan ng lalaking may ketong. Sa UP, sa CSWCD, sinasabing “we have to integrate with the poor until such time that their life is aslo our life, their experiences are also our experiences, and their dreams are also our dreams.” Kailangang ang mga manggagawa sa pagpapaunlad ng pamayanan ay maging kaisa ng mga maralita.

Hindi iniwasan ni Hesus ang lalaking may ketong. Sa verse 41 makikita natin si Hesus: “hinipo siya, sabay ang wika, ‘Ibig ko. Gumaling ka!” Sa kaniyang paghipo sa lalaking may ketong, isinapanganib ni Hesus ang kaniyang sariling kalusugan; hindi siya gumawa ng anumang pag-iingat. Naalala ko tuloy yung mga naririnig kong mga kwento tungkol sa mga pulitiko kapag panahon ng pangangampanya. Pagkatapos daw makipagkamayan sa mga tao ay nagbubuhos ng alcohol sa mga kamay upang matangal ang anumang bakas ng maruruming mga taong kanilang kinamayan. Gaano katotoo ito? Ewan ko. Magmasid-masid tayo ngayon dahil tiyak maraming mga pulitiko ang pupunta sa ating lugar.

Ang ginawa ni Hesus ay isang napakagandang huwaran para sa ating nagsasabing mga Kristyano o followers of Christ. Danasin at damhin natin ang kalungkutan, pighati, hapdi at kirot ng puso, katawan at isipan, ang mga sama ng loob ng ibang tao; ginagawa natin silang mga kapit-bahay natin, mga kamag-anak, mga taong malapit sa atin. Ngunit getting close to people, ang paglapit sa mga tao ay maaaring magdulot ng mga problema at kahirapan sa panig natin kung kayat we prefer loving without costs, without risks for ourselves and our own people. Mas gugustuhin natin ang magmahal na hindi natin maisasapanganib ang ating sarili o yung kapakanan natin.

Kaya nga’t enjoy na enjoy ako sa mga kwento ng mga pastor o mga pari na nasa mission areas. Kagaya nung isang kapartner ng KKFI diyan sa Montalban, si Pastor Larry. Mahirap ang kanilang simbahan. Pagpapaayos nga lang ng pinto ng kanilang kapilya ay talagang madugo! Mga pamasahe na nga lang e hirap na ang pastor. Pero patuloy pa rin siyang naglilinkod sa mga taga-Montalban – tumutlong sa mga livelihood programs para sa mga tao, nakikinig sa kanilang mga problema at sama ng loob. Ang mga problema ng mga tago-komunidad ay tunay na nadarama ni Pastor Larry kaya problema na rin niya ang mga ito. At siyempre ang kanilang pangarap ng isang maunlad na buhay ay kaniya na ring pangarap. Di pa ba ito isang patunay na ang pag-ibig ng Dios ay di nagmamaliw?

Ang Masa Mission Center ay nasa ikalawang taon na dito sa Payatas. Ngayon magkakaroon na ng Day Care Center dito. Siguro, ni minsan hindi sumagi sa isipan ng mga kasamahan natin dito na minsan isang araw ay magkakaroon ng ganitong pagtitipon para sa pormal na opening at dedikasyon ng isang day care center sa mismo nilang pamayanan. Ang pag-ibig ng Dios ay di nagmamaliw!


Uliranin si Kristo
Ipinagkaloob ni Hesus ang kahilingan ng may ketong: “Ibig ko . Gumaling ka!” Sa mas malalim na pagsusuri, hindi lang ang ketong ang pinagaling niya. Ayaw ni Hesus na may mga taong itinatakwil ng lipunan. Ayaw ni Hesus, at hindi nararapat sa dangal ng tao bilang mga anak ng Dios na wala silang mga kapwa, tahanan, pamayanan at mga kaibigan. Sa pagpapagaling sa karamdaman nung lalaki siya ay muling isinama sa lipunan. Ang itsa-pwera ngayon ay kasama na! Ang ibinukod ng lipunan ngayon ay kabuklod na ng mamamayan! Ang pagmamahal ng Diyos ay tunay na di nagmamaliw!

Ngunit kung tayo ay nagdiriwang mayroon ding mga taong nagngingit-ngit o nagpuputok ang butsi dahil sa takbo ng mga pangyayari. Ang ginawa ni Hesus ay labag sa batas. Hinipo niya ang isang maruming tao! Ngunit namnamin natin na ang paghipo ni Hesus sa lalaking may ketong ay isang pagpapahayag ng isang malalim na mensahe – ang pag-ibig sa mga hinahamak, kinamumuhian, kinasusuklaman, mga itinataboy ng lipunan!

Ang ating pagtangging ibukas ang ating mga puso sa iba, ang ating pag-abot ng ating mga kamay sa kanila, sa mga mahihirap at sa mga itinatakwil ng lipunan ay isang iskandalo. Ang pagpapatotoo o pagpapatunay lamang ng pag-ibig at kagandahang-loob ang tanging makakaabot sa mga taong ipinapalagay nila ang kanilang sarili at loob na malayo sa Dios (1 Cor. 10:32).

Ang kwento ng Masa Mission ay isang pagpapatotoo o pagpapatunay sa di-nagmamaliw na pag-ibig ng Dios. Ang kwento sa likod ng pagtatatag ng isang day care center dito sa pamayanan ay isang pagpapatotoo sa di-nagmamaliw na pag-ibig ng Dios. Ang patuloy nating pakikiisa sa panig ng maralita ay isang pagpapatotoo sa di-nagmamaliw na pag-ibig ng Dios.

Noong bumibyahe kami patungong Zambales huminto yung bus na aming sinasakyan bandang San Narciso. Sabi nung konduktor na nagkataong nasa tapat ko: “Iihi lang sandali yung driver?” Narinig yun nung isang matandang pasahero. Papunta ng Iba si lolo upang lakarin ang ilang mga papeles dahil may mga dala-dala siyang mga brown envelope. Malayo pa ang Iba kaya gusto rin niyang bumaba para umihi. Ngunit siya ay nagaalinlangan dahil baka siya’y maiwan. Ilang segundo pa ang lumipas at siya’y nakapagpasiya. Bumaba siya at umihi sa ilalim ng isang puno. Nasa kalagitnaan pa lang siya ng kaniyang pag-ihi nung umakyat na ang driver at paaandarin na ang sasakyan. Hindi naman siya makasigaw dahil nasa may kalayuan siya at mahirap din namang putulin niya ang kaniyang pag-ihi! Aandar na ang sasakyan! Nagsalita yung matandang nakasakay, “Umiihi pa yung isang matanda. Hintayin natin.” Sa isang iglap naramdaman nung isang matanda ang nararamdaman nung matandang umiihi, yung takot na baka siya maiwanan. Isipin na lang natin kung ano ang nangyari kung hindi umimik yung isang matanda!

BAGONG LANGIT AT BAGONG LUPA (Basahin ang Isaiah 65:17-25)
Ang pagmamahal ng Dios ay di nagmamaliw. Ang pagmamahal ng Diyos ay patuloy na bumubuhos sa ating lahat dahil mayroon pa ring mga taong nais ipagkaloob ang kanilang mga sarili, lumabas sa kanilang mga komportableng lugar, at makibahagi sa pakikibaka ng mga maralita.

Hinahamon tayong palakisin ang bigkis ng ating pakikiisa sa mga maliliit nating kapatid kay Kristo upang tahakin ang isang alternatibong paraan ng pag-unlad na kung saan ang lahat ay sama-samang magsasalo sa mga bunga ng di-nagmamaliw na pag-ibig ng Dios, ang kaganapan ng isang BAGONG LANGIT AT BAGONG LUPA DITO SA PAYATAS!

Ibinahagi ko sa blessing ng Day Care Center sa Masa Mission Church ng Puno United Methodist Church. Sabi ng isang nanay, sana sa malaking simbahan ito maibahagi para marinig ng mga tao doon.

Dear Hotaru - August 18, 2004

August 18, 2004

Dear Hotaru,

I have forgotten how to write. For some reason, my muses have left me, and it is not for a lack of stories that I have not written you for a long time… just a lack of putting things into words.
It has not been raining as I have expected. Although sometimes an inconvenience, I would still have welcomed the frequent rain, if not for the flooding it would cause on the places I am now working at. I have started work, by the way. Actually, since five months ago. I’m working with fisher folks in this boiling hot of a place called La Union. It is nice to be near the sea again as when I was in Masbate. But the sea here is not as near as I wish it would be. I stay most of the time in a house cum office near a terribly noisy highway… so it is not the waves of the sea that I hear most of the hours that I am awake or asleep. And you have always known my abhorrence of tricyles. Terrible invention, I really think it is. For all the noise and bad air it contributes. As to the income it gives thousands, no, probably millions of men here in the Philippines, I have to concede. But if I ever get to be President of this already desperate country of ours, I would definitely think of a way to get these drivers some other job. You nudge me to check my attitude, but I assure you, I am not whining. Just stating facts, he he. It really is boiling hot where I am, and the highway really is noisy, and tricyles really do contribute noise and bad air. I am also a lot darker than my usual color, and people have been telling me how emaciated I look. I have cut my hair as a symbolic gesture of letting go of the hang – ups I had from the last place I had been and as a welcoming, sort of, of this supposed new chapter of my life. It has been growing much faster than I thought.
What have we been learning lately? Blame it on the muses, much of my profundities have gone somewhere other than letters that should have been written to you. I did try to send some, in 160 characters, taking advantage of the technology now available to us. I do not think you received much. I think I kept much of them to myself, not that I sent myself my own SMS. There are such things as messages unsent. Messages kept. As there are messages sent, messages misunderstood, or messages ignored. Wonderful, really, how this world has come up with these things that mock distance, time, and energy. I guess, for some people, writing a letter by hand would be more for the drama than the need. Archaic as it may seem, the hand written letter is still one of the most expressive mediums of the heart. But I should get out of this dreamy like thing of talking about letters…
I have not been to places quite lately. The longest ride I’ve had recently was six hours and it was to a place familiar. But there is one place, you probably might not have heard of, and I just came from there. Moriah. It was where this old guy from the Bible called Abraham was about to bring his son so he could roast the boy. In obedience to God. I will not tell you the details of how or why I had to go to Moriah, but I will tell you how it feels. It hurts. It’s the most crushing, most agonizing feeling you could have. Like the death of a loved one. The death of an only son. Being always errant, I can never fully understand total obedience and submission, especially when you’re never really sure the things you hear inside your head is the voice of God or those little deceptive imaginary creatures you call your demons. But God does speak. And He said lay your heart’s desire down; bring the precious of your soul to the altar. Stop. Let go. Wait.
Stop. Let go. Wait. For you, these commands may seem trivial, but it is torture. And there is no other source of comfort but the knowledge that God desires the best. A perfect assurance and satisfaction in His love. What is then torture and agony will become steps of faith. A greater expectation of things to come. And release.
My humanness will require me frequent trips to Moriah. Maybe you’ve been there. You just might not have recognized the place. It’s a place of struggle and testing. It’s a place of doubt and questions. It’s a place of letting go. It’s a place of obedience to Divine mandates, or integrity to convictions, at a price. It’s a place of death, death to self. It’s a place of total surrender. These are things I have to learn, over and over again.
I pray you are well. God bless you.

Always,
Kulibangbang

Therefore, I urge you brothers in view of God's mercy to offer your bodies as living sacrifices, holy and pleasing God - this is your spriritual act of worship. Do not conform any longer to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God's will is - His good, pleasing and perfect will. - Romans 12: 1-2

The Lord redeems the soul of His servants; and none of them that trust in him shall be desolate.
– Psalm 34:22

Bleak

I had this written late February, I think. Posting it for the archive. :)

Bleak
By Eleonor T. Baldo

Birds are actually chirping outside the window. There are children playing on the pavement. It’s a bright sun shiny day. It’s a weekday and I am home. It is not a national holiday and there has not been a national strike organized for the day. There is not even a coup, or a mutiny, or a call for the people to gather and revolt. It is not even the elections. There is absolutely no reason why I should be home and not earning my day’s wage so I could have something to eat. No reason except that I am plainly out of work. Unemployed. Just like probably a considerable percentage of the Filipino population.
But having so many people in the same boat with me is not comforting. For one, it’s not a good boat and for another there are too many people aboard. We will not burn like that recent ferry accident. We will not even notice it that we have already sunk at the bottom of the ocean. We will not even notice the water seeping in. We will just see how many we are in the boat. We will not pat each other’s backs and say, “it’s okay.” We will look at each other’s eyes and say, “We have to get out of this boat, or get out of this country.” Heck, even those who are not in the boat want to get out of the country. Which, on hind sight, does not seem too bad. If four of ten people want to leave the country and that if they actually did, and of course they would bring along their families, the Philippines’ population will significantly be lowered. A significant portion of the workforce will be outside the country so there will be a demand for jobs inside the country. All the other people still with me in the boat would be out of it and we won’t have to leave the country! The Philippines is not over speeding towards entropy after all. But then, I am merely humoring myself. If I don’t get myself some source of income soon, I will soon be begging in the streets. But then again, there are some days the beggar makes more money than a regular workman. Maybe that is why they always go back, dressed for the day’s “work.” I am still humoring myself.

There should be some sense in this unemployed existence. I can make it a time of refreshing. Freedom from the stress of beating deadlines or producing outputs. Freedom from bosses who think you are magic workers able to complete tasks by the millions. Freedom from routines of office work. But then I used to work for a health organization that hopes to make a difference in the health of Asian populations. And I used to work for a research team that looks into the health practices of indigenous women. I liked what I used to work for. I don’t work for them anymore because I got lost somewhere and now I’m back and unemployed. Besides, the tasks were project based- at the mercies of funding organizations or clients.
They are still around – the people I used to work with. As May 2004 approaches, people are getting more desperate and hopeless over the future of the Philippines. Some people said I had the chance out. I was already out of the country. I should have stayed there. I should not have come back. I came back, though, not only because there is family and friends to come back to at home, but also because I refuse to lose hope in the country. There is still hope because there are still people who believe that people’s lives can get better. And they are working for it. At the end of May, I might have a president I might not be proud of, and a hoard of other politicians I abhor ruling this country. But there will still be people who pray, who believe that the Philippines will have a year of fullness and years of overflowing after. There is still hope because I still look forward to the birth of my nephew or niece. There is hope because I am still sending out my resumes and crossing my fingers. There is hope because I still find “help – wanted” advertisements in the newspapers. I refuse to shake my head over the seemingly bleak future of my country. I have to hold on to that because there are children still playing on the pavement outside where I live.

At the end of May, I might still be in the boat of the unemployed. But there is still June, and six other months after that. I can start planting my own vegetables if I run out of food. A can of soil is enough to grow a pechay plant. I’ll get myself many cans. I can exchange my vegetables for rice. I will survive.
The chickens are crowing. It’s three in the afternoon. See, even the chickens call out to the sun even when it’s already up. What more when it is down. The sun will set in a few hours. It will be night. There is morning to look forward to. Even in my unemployed existence.

Author’s Introduction:
I am 26 years old and a graduate of UP Baguio. I had originally planned to have something published in Youngblood so I could advertise myself. But I may be described with three words: Christian, Pahinungod, and Cordilleran. Thank you

Third moon

O let me wish
Break from reason
Cut the string
That tugs my wings
So I can be passionate
Even for a while

Let me wish this forever
Let me wish
That your feet have stopped
Their searching
And my wings
Need not desire to fly

Let me wish
To be the fountain
At the end of your day
Untie the burdens
Kiss your cares away
The world is left
Outside the door

And you are home.

Let me wish.

June 3, 2003

Attempts in Productivity Series

Ramblings.

Chapter 1.
It is July 26, 2004. A few minutes more the clock would turn and so would the calendar. I decide to play with words instead of get myself frustrated over Spider Solitaire. I should be pushing myself to do something that resembles work so I could at least say I had a productive day but for some reason, it wearies me tapping on the keyboard to put into eternal electronic form the notes a colleague made of a recent activity. I also could not bring myself to read, not even the supposedly light reading that Filipino romance novels are (since these books are around where I am right now), or the highly intellectual compilation of readings on organizations. Was the previous sentence even correct? Maybe I should save this and post it on my blog spot, which I was never able to “update” (I am too lazy now to look for the right term) since probably centuries ago. You see, sometimes, I have the illusion that I am a writer… and I thought I could eke out something every now and then that I could post on my “personal space” in the world wide web. I never got, no, made the time to learn, but I did try, and actually made simple personal websites, courtesy of Yahoo.. but I never really got far enough to actually have made a website. The blog was a more convenient option. Simple enough for my simple brain to take. Five minutes to twelve midnight. Maybe I should do other things.


Still at Chapter 1

Why I should put these “things” into chapters, I do not really know. I think I had intended to write something that resembles a story. It is July 29, 2004, by the way. I had slept late yesterday and had to wake up early for a trip to one of a co- worker’s field areas. We had a grand time walking through a bamboo bridge and milkfish feeds polluted water. Our intention was to get to the sea. We did get to the sea. The fishermen were there, too, “folding” their nets after around four hours of seafaring. It was quite impressive seeing them all lined up beside their bancas, doing the same thing. It was like watching workers in a factory assembly line. Impressive because it meant all those hundred something fishermen went and came back from the sea almost at the same time, talk about fishing together. It is not impressive however if one asks them how much bounty they had brought home. At least these fishermen had more than half a pail of fish to sell.