3:10 :I feel better that my blood seems to circulate now, and that I think my nerves are working better than about ten minutes ago.
Ten Minutes ago : I just finished the last set of Purchase Order I am to review for the day. Well I have one left to confirm some details to the purchaser, but apart from it, I have nothing more – to do. At least not that is urgently required for the day. Because I must admit, there are three Approvals for Turnover still waiting to be reviewed. Boring. Maybe I just find it more pleasing to be doing a number of things at a time. Maybe I’m just challenged by a pile of work and exhibiting once more the art of multi-tasking I once was good at back in the university.
Ten Minutes after : I don’t know, but I bet, I will have the same bored look before I went to the ladies room to have a walk. The monotony, just like a song, “is killing me softly” woah!!!
Good Luck!
Friday, May 15, 2009
Early Conspiracy
It’s like a show of puppets in a well-crafted skit.
Long before the May Twenty-Ten Elections, they all seem to have prepared themselves already in parading with their most extravagant, most convincing, and some funny, costumes. Some foolery, some with the purest intentions, some, I don’t know, but just the same, they all pose an image of trying-so-hard-to-win-the-masses politician.
Whether he is your companion in pedaling your way to your dreams, or the “protector” of OFW’s and the rights of the poor, or the second-to-throne housing director, or your leftist Mayor of the country’s top business district, or the all-time critic of almost everyone and anyone, and the many others who someway, somehow are making themselves known before the electorate; or simply the incumbent, they are all the same politician’s face – power and greed dominating (this is general, I still give the other leaders their rightful place in perhaps the Nobel Peace Prize?) values and sincere intentions.
It seems to have been planned in the most perfectly persuading way they can, like a magician’s crazy antics in a children’s party, where only perhaps the children and a little adult would clap their way out to an encouraging, “more! more!” , only to get a bluff out of it.
I fear I might see the show worsen in 12 months, being more and more convincing to the masses. I fear that the most selfish plan would triumph. I fear that we would be blinded by the genius of every man behind this big road show.
I hope it won’t.
I trust that in the months to come, like intelligent spectators, we still get to see the flaws and correct them. I believe we could be more curios now to not allow ourselves to be deceived again by some colorful posters or mushy lines, and that like a “pakipot” Filipina, we carefully choose; and even if it takes a hundred years before that “yes” its fine, as long as the one we are giving our vote to is worthy of our trust.
Long before the May Twenty-Ten Elections, they all seem to have prepared themselves already in parading with their most extravagant, most convincing, and some funny, costumes. Some foolery, some with the purest intentions, some, I don’t know, but just the same, they all pose an image of trying-so-hard-to-win-the-masses politician.
Whether he is your companion in pedaling your way to your dreams, or the “protector” of OFW’s and the rights of the poor, or the second-to-throne housing director, or your leftist Mayor of the country’s top business district, or the all-time critic of almost everyone and anyone, and the many others who someway, somehow are making themselves known before the electorate; or simply the incumbent, they are all the same politician’s face – power and greed dominating (this is general, I still give the other leaders their rightful place in perhaps the Nobel Peace Prize?) values and sincere intentions.
It seems to have been planned in the most perfectly persuading way they can, like a magician’s crazy antics in a children’s party, where only perhaps the children and a little adult would clap their way out to an encouraging, “more! more!” , only to get a bluff out of it.
I fear I might see the show worsen in 12 months, being more and more convincing to the masses. I fear that the most selfish plan would triumph. I fear that we would be blinded by the genius of every man behind this big road show.
I hope it won’t.
I trust that in the months to come, like intelligent spectators, we still get to see the flaws and correct them. I believe we could be more curios now to not allow ourselves to be deceived again by some colorful posters or mushy lines, and that like a “pakipot” Filipina, we carefully choose; and even if it takes a hundred years before that “yes” its fine, as long as the one we are giving our vote to is worthy of our trust.
Friday, May 8, 2009
The anatomy of a winning Pacman
As usual, the Pacquiao-Hatton fight put a stop to the life of every Filipino, on an early afternoon, Sunday; and I am sure that even more than half the world awaits on whether which will prevail – the east or the west.
I was never a Pacman fan, but I must admit, whether just curious on who will win, or just don’t want to be left behind in an after-match tete-a-tete in almost every corner in the country, or just because I have no choice because everyone in the house would watch; I watch his fights, and I don’t miss a single one of his well-publicized, and high earning international bouts in this century, except for this one.
But even if I wasn’t able to watch the second round which again defined Pacman’s (and the Philippines’ sports) victory, I had every detail of that momentous triumph. Thanks to the news – TV and print, and to the buzzing storytellers I could easily get from almost anywhere. And well true enough, it was again where the news revolved, and where again for many times now, has shadowed even the worldwide phenomena of the spreading Swine Flu Virus or the unusual striking of a typhoon in the Bicol Region, in early May when we’re still in the summer season. And like the lost summer heat, it was hot news!
But I respect the fellow. I admire his being disciplined, determined, strong-willed, and Christ-centered. I’m honored I’m a Filipino because he is and because he makes us proud to be one; and because every time the Philippine anthem is sung (even when the melody seems altered all the time, every time: just differently composed) and the Philippine flag is raised above the millions of boxing fans or mere spectators, it makes me more boastful of my race.
And we must admit too that he has created a group of followers – commoners and politicians alike. He has made for him a name that is his – Manny “the Pacman” Pacquiao. He is revered to as our day’s hero; for as how they would report it in the news, crime rates go down when he fights, but note that watching his fights also creates death caused by either heart attacks or strokes by overly excited and eager fans. Pacquiao is simply making boxing loved by every Filipino more than basketball, I guess. Where this popularity leaves him is still the big question, but years ago, the people of his home province has already witnessed the desire of this aspiring congressman, to win not just in the boxing ring but also in the political arena. As critics would say, he simply has no experience, he don’t even speak straight English (but he’s learning) how could he author a bill and even defend them? “gagamitan lang siya ng ibang pulitiko para makakuha ng boto.” The news again of his vying for a seat in Congress is all over the radio. Proof perhaps of this ardent desire, is his going to high school (minimum educational requirement). This road to being a politician, aside from his stint as a TV personality and an actor, and as being once again or rather now, given the highest ranks for a reservist, is well a long path and I know he has made it clear like his boxing career.
Again, I am not a fan, but I acknowledge his works and his accomplishments as having six belts in various weight divisions; and as Bob Arum called him after that 2-round winning fight, “He is the greatest fighter the world ever have.” It was normal, for a promoter who has again grew his stake into bigger fortunes, because some boxing analysts would call him as still, ONE of the greatest; and yes, he his perhaps, in my lifetime, one of them. And honestly, I would love it as that. The picture of his kneeling down in one corner of the ring after every win, whispering a silent prayer of perhaps, gratitude; and his raising of two hands in a stance, so powerful and signifying of every Filipino’s pride, his thankful bow, and proud, sometimes, arrogant smile - I would want it to remain that way.
It may not be fair to say he is incompetent of the job he is seeking. No one could really tell how good a Congressman he may be or how influential a leader he may be. A joke was said; he could not and would not be corrupt like most of them do, because he’s wealthier than all of them combined. Or it maybe, that if he wins a seat, he would ask for more than what the others would, because compared to the fortune he has, it may be “chicken”. A comment was also said, with his charisma, he could easily make the others to vote for a cha-cha or con-con, no questions asked; or that he could easily get a commanding vote. Another would ask what does he knows. But others would also say, whoever said that only the educated can serve? Or only the experienced can run for an office? True enough, leadership should not be equalled to a degree, profession or fame, it must not.
For now, I can only insinuate what may happen, and what may not. Whether the Pacman would go as far as extending the ring one mile further, I'm not sure, but for now, it may be better if he don't.
I was never a Pacman fan, but I must admit, whether just curious on who will win, or just don’t want to be left behind in an after-match tete-a-tete in almost every corner in the country, or just because I have no choice because everyone in the house would watch; I watch his fights, and I don’t miss a single one of his well-publicized, and high earning international bouts in this century, except for this one.
But even if I wasn’t able to watch the second round which again defined Pacman’s (and the Philippines’ sports) victory, I had every detail of that momentous triumph. Thanks to the news – TV and print, and to the buzzing storytellers I could easily get from almost anywhere. And well true enough, it was again where the news revolved, and where again for many times now, has shadowed even the worldwide phenomena of the spreading Swine Flu Virus or the unusual striking of a typhoon in the Bicol Region, in early May when we’re still in the summer season. And like the lost summer heat, it was hot news!
But I respect the fellow. I admire his being disciplined, determined, strong-willed, and Christ-centered. I’m honored I’m a Filipino because he is and because he makes us proud to be one; and because every time the Philippine anthem is sung (even when the melody seems altered all the time, every time: just differently composed) and the Philippine flag is raised above the millions of boxing fans or mere spectators, it makes me more boastful of my race.
And we must admit too that he has created a group of followers – commoners and politicians alike. He has made for him a name that is his – Manny “the Pacman” Pacquiao. He is revered to as our day’s hero; for as how they would report it in the news, crime rates go down when he fights, but note that watching his fights also creates death caused by either heart attacks or strokes by overly excited and eager fans. Pacquiao is simply making boxing loved by every Filipino more than basketball, I guess. Where this popularity leaves him is still the big question, but years ago, the people of his home province has already witnessed the desire of this aspiring congressman, to win not just in the boxing ring but also in the political arena. As critics would say, he simply has no experience, he don’t even speak straight English (but he’s learning) how could he author a bill and even defend them? “gagamitan lang siya ng ibang pulitiko para makakuha ng boto.” The news again of his vying for a seat in Congress is all over the radio. Proof perhaps of this ardent desire, is his going to high school (minimum educational requirement). This road to being a politician, aside from his stint as a TV personality and an actor, and as being once again or rather now, given the highest ranks for a reservist, is well a long path and I know he has made it clear like his boxing career.
Again, I am not a fan, but I acknowledge his works and his accomplishments as having six belts in various weight divisions; and as Bob Arum called him after that 2-round winning fight, “He is the greatest fighter the world ever have.” It was normal, for a promoter who has again grew his stake into bigger fortunes, because some boxing analysts would call him as still, ONE of the greatest; and yes, he his perhaps, in my lifetime, one of them. And honestly, I would love it as that. The picture of his kneeling down in one corner of the ring after every win, whispering a silent prayer of perhaps, gratitude; and his raising of two hands in a stance, so powerful and signifying of every Filipino’s pride, his thankful bow, and proud, sometimes, arrogant smile - I would want it to remain that way.
It may not be fair to say he is incompetent of the job he is seeking. No one could really tell how good a Congressman he may be or how influential a leader he may be. A joke was said; he could not and would not be corrupt like most of them do, because he’s wealthier than all of them combined. Or it maybe, that if he wins a seat, he would ask for more than what the others would, because compared to the fortune he has, it may be “chicken”. A comment was also said, with his charisma, he could easily make the others to vote for a cha-cha or con-con, no questions asked; or that he could easily get a commanding vote. Another would ask what does he knows. But others would also say, whoever said that only the educated can serve? Or only the experienced can run for an office? True enough, leadership should not be equalled to a degree, profession or fame, it must not.
For now, I can only insinuate what may happen, and what may not. Whether the Pacman would go as far as extending the ring one mile further, I'm not sure, but for now, it may be better if he don't.
Sunday, April 26, 2009
If Only
I look at life as always on the perspective where I would see the light despite the vast darkness or where I find clear waters despite raging tides and storm. I am very optimistic. I really do. For if not, I know I also could have been easily derailed from this track. I always try to make the lonesome parts of life happy, to glue the broken pieces of other's hopes and mine, and to clear smudges on the painting of my own dreams. It was as if always easier for me to do away with the worries, it was like always a good escape.
I think I have so much fervor and enthusiasm in almost everyhing. I do because I love what I do not merely doing what I love. Its also called contentment. But honestly, as I always do, to this point, I'm afraid I'm losing it. But that is the least I am wishing for. I need the same strength to hold my chin up and continue walking my path.
I have so much in my list I wanted to do. I have so much dreams I want to wake up having. I have so much hopes and aspirations, I pray I achieve. And I know with my persevarance I can make things happen, not now maybe but in the future that is for me to create and not merely see.
I want to teach in a university, to earn a Master's Degree, to pass another exam related to my profession, to start and grow a capital venture, to learn photography, to hone my skills in visual arts, to do more crafts, to build a house for my parents, to travel at least around the country, to volunteer for an NGO, to live more and help more.
But I'm afraid. I could not be that powerful to do all of them at the same time, as I always make myself comfortable with the art of muti-tasking. I must admit, I could not be that superwoman I used to think I could be. And with the present needs that is little by little accumulting in my bag of wants, where do I start then?
If only.
If I could also carry their dreams with mine. And make them happen as I carefully and unwearingly make mine. I hope it could be easier. I am not self-seeking, I don't.
If I could only have all we need and ask for, it wouldn't be hard, I wouldn't be guilty. It's stressful. Sometimes tiring. To seem to carry all on my just-developed shoulders. If I could, then I will. I am uncomplaining. It's hard for me to say no. I give what I can, more than how much I want it.
But I just don't have so much to give now. Time maybe, and as always, affection, but other than this simple luxuries, I have nothing. I can only boast on the intangibles I have acquired over the years of learning, of hoping, and of loving.
If only.
If I could ony be richer and more powerful, then it could be easy. But do I need them or they need it? I don't know. I fear I am being selfish, but the stronger fear is that, I might just make them depend on other's struggle and industry. I fear I will continue to inflict them fear of losing someone to hold on to. I fear I will not help them learn to stand on their own. And now, where will I stand? If I could only take both dreams and take more responisbilities, I could. It is for me to try anyway. Off I go?
I think I have so much fervor and enthusiasm in almost everyhing. I do because I love what I do not merely doing what I love. Its also called contentment. But honestly, as I always do, to this point, I'm afraid I'm losing it. But that is the least I am wishing for. I need the same strength to hold my chin up and continue walking my path.
I have so much in my list I wanted to do. I have so much dreams I want to wake up having. I have so much hopes and aspirations, I pray I achieve. And I know with my persevarance I can make things happen, not now maybe but in the future that is for me to create and not merely see.
I want to teach in a university, to earn a Master's Degree, to pass another exam related to my profession, to start and grow a capital venture, to learn photography, to hone my skills in visual arts, to do more crafts, to build a house for my parents, to travel at least around the country, to volunteer for an NGO, to live more and help more.
But I'm afraid. I could not be that powerful to do all of them at the same time, as I always make myself comfortable with the art of muti-tasking. I must admit, I could not be that superwoman I used to think I could be. And with the present needs that is little by little accumulting in my bag of wants, where do I start then?
If only.
If I could also carry their dreams with mine. And make them happen as I carefully and unwearingly make mine. I hope it could be easier. I am not self-seeking, I don't.
If I could only have all we need and ask for, it wouldn't be hard, I wouldn't be guilty. It's stressful. Sometimes tiring. To seem to carry all on my just-developed shoulders. If I could, then I will. I am uncomplaining. It's hard for me to say no. I give what I can, more than how much I want it.
But I just don't have so much to give now. Time maybe, and as always, affection, but other than this simple luxuries, I have nothing. I can only boast on the intangibles I have acquired over the years of learning, of hoping, and of loving.
If only.
If I could ony be richer and more powerful, then it could be easy. But do I need them or they need it? I don't know. I fear I am being selfish, but the stronger fear is that, I might just make them depend on other's struggle and industry. I fear I will continue to inflict them fear of losing someone to hold on to. I fear I will not help them learn to stand on their own. And now, where will I stand? If I could only take both dreams and take more responisbilities, I could. It is for me to try anyway. Off I go?
Monday, April 6, 2009
Summer Wishlist
I’m missing school: especially when my eight-year-old nephew played guessing game with me – his questions being drawn from the table of elements. I had at least I guess, 70% accuracy. Ehem.
But I’m missing school more because maybe, at this time of year, we have our break, just as my nephews. Oh! I just love summer – and the thought of being a sloth even for sometime. Hahaha!
And if I do have all the time I would want to do these for the summer:
1. Make a Scrapbook of my first real JOB.
2. Sketch.
3. Paint.
4. Learn the basics in photography.
5. Go somewhere far and cold.
6. Visit a beach.
7. Do gardening.
8. Read the book, Rich Dad, Poor Dad.
9. Prepare the best serving of halo-halo.
10. Meet with old friends.
11. Design a school’s yearbook.
12. Learn photoshop.
13. Go to Luneta Park for a picnic.
14. Play Badminton.
15. Watch a basketball game of my fave PBA team.
16. Watch seasons 2 to present of Heroes.
17. Make at least 3 business proposals for my brother-in-law.
18. Complete an Expert’s game in Minesweeper.
19. Watch a lot of movies.
20. Blog more!
What would you want?
Friday, April 3, 2009
A Reminder
This is an odd sign along Sen. Gil Puyat Avenue in Makati, Philippines where almost all, if not all billboards are commercial ads, event announcements or political schemes.
Aah! So short, yet so deep. So common, yet so striking. So plain, yet so sensible. So direct, yet still reflective.
Aah! So short, yet so deep. So common, yet so striking. So plain, yet so sensible. So direct, yet still reflective.
"Talk to God everyday. Life would seem to be easier."
Good Deeds
May I chronicle some simple act of kindness I received, contributed, or just observed in the last seven days and because whether I was benefited or not, I think, was still worth the ackowledgement.
On a Jeepney
I was reading a local broadsheet on my way to work. It was morning of Saturday. We were less than ten on a public ride, when the sudden stop of the jeepney had made all of the papers, except the one I held on my hand, spread in clutter. And before I knew it, they were already picking it up...A nice gesture from complete strangers who managed to exert a little of their effort to help a young lady who, in the first place, should have not even taken reading on a moving vehicle a hobby.
A Long Walk
We were almost half the distance we have to travel by foot to where we are going, when suddenly, I realized I forgot my mobile phone. I was with two of my officemates, who by then and like me, are also dyin to go home. I urged that they go ahead but they insisted it would be fine if they still accompany me on my way back t the office...They had the choice not to share the trouble but they showed their unselfish desire to keep me company, and it's really sweet.
Earth Hour
At 8;30-9:30 in the evening, Pacific time, we participated in the 60-second event calling for a complete lights-off. I never really knew how big its extent was but observing the call at our home and the many others who did, has I think, made the global event a success. I commend the idea behind this saving act and sacrifice. And although this only happens for an hour a year, when multiplied, is yet an act, I know, was appreciated by our mother Earth.
Musical Talents
They are all blind. They have undoubtedly, been showered the voices of angels. They are that good. The band's performance is a usual scene below EDSA-Ayala MRT station in Makati. And as I walk passed them, they make me appreciate music even that once, as I don't really have the inclination. Sometimes, I drop a coin in their donation box, most often, I don't. But just seeing the many spectators and listeners, delighted of what they see and hear, seems an assurance that before the end of the night, they could give at least a penny, for when accumulated, they could make hundreds and more for these fellows whose passion, their enthusiasm and their signing without pretense, despite their conditions were all admiring.
My own good deed.
One thing: I can not be too trusting anymore. Events today have made me question, is it bad doing good? or was it simply that the good was just taken advantage of? Officemates were telling me, I am too kind to have allowed, once more, credit to an already doubtful promise of being repaid. I have given, and am still giving the person the benefit of the doubt, but honestly, I have been disappointed. And whether I would be trusting this person again, and well, extend the many favors again, in lending, understanding, sympathizing and believing..that I don't know. Even the kindest, when he thought he was fooled losts his nerves in anger.
On a Jeepney
I was reading a local broadsheet on my way to work. It was morning of Saturday. We were less than ten on a public ride, when the sudden stop of the jeepney had made all of the papers, except the one I held on my hand, spread in clutter. And before I knew it, they were already picking it up...A nice gesture from complete strangers who managed to exert a little of their effort to help a young lady who, in the first place, should have not even taken reading on a moving vehicle a hobby.
A Long Walk
We were almost half the distance we have to travel by foot to where we are going, when suddenly, I realized I forgot my mobile phone. I was with two of my officemates, who by then and like me, are also dyin to go home. I urged that they go ahead but they insisted it would be fine if they still accompany me on my way back t the office...They had the choice not to share the trouble but they showed their unselfish desire to keep me company, and it's really sweet.
Earth Hour
At 8;30-9:30 in the evening, Pacific time, we participated in the 60-second event calling for a complete lights-off. I never really knew how big its extent was but observing the call at our home and the many others who did, has I think, made the global event a success. I commend the idea behind this saving act and sacrifice. And although this only happens for an hour a year, when multiplied, is yet an act, I know, was appreciated by our mother Earth.
Musical Talents
They are all blind. They have undoubtedly, been showered the voices of angels. They are that good. The band's performance is a usual scene below EDSA-Ayala MRT station in Makati. And as I walk passed them, they make me appreciate music even that once, as I don't really have the inclination. Sometimes, I drop a coin in their donation box, most often, I don't. But just seeing the many spectators and listeners, delighted of what they see and hear, seems an assurance that before the end of the night, they could give at least a penny, for when accumulated, they could make hundreds and more for these fellows whose passion, their enthusiasm and their signing without pretense, despite their conditions were all admiring.
My own good deed.
One thing: I can not be too trusting anymore. Events today have made me question, is it bad doing good? or was it simply that the good was just taken advantage of? Officemates were telling me, I am too kind to have allowed, once more, credit to an already doubtful promise of being repaid. I have given, and am still giving the person the benefit of the doubt, but honestly, I have been disappointed. And whether I would be trusting this person again, and well, extend the many favors again, in lending, understanding, sympathizing and believing..that I don't know. Even the kindest, when he thought he was fooled losts his nerves in anger.
Wednesday, April 1, 2009
It's a modest job
The Philippines, says a Hong Kong broadcaster, is "a nation of servants". So what? It's an honest job. I just read this on yesterday's local broadsheet and just heard tonight on local news.
Many have expressed their demands for apologies (which by now has been done as reported) especially women's groups. I understand. I too demand, on a rather calm, sincere, and reserved manner. Partly because I am a woman and a Filipina. But a larger part of which is because I am a daughter.
I remember being raised without the physical presence of my mama. Of going to school hoping that like my classmates, I was being accompanied to kindergarten school, not by my then 13 yrs old brother, but my mama or papa. I had my childhood and adolescence without the physical presence of a mother. This vital growing up stage has been compromised for the sake of our more secured future. I understand. We could have not finished school without my mama leaving and working abroad. And yes, she was a household help. She has endured a decade of giving foreign blood the comfort of living at home just to be paid by more than what she is paid in her own country performing a job more recognized and approved by a judging society.
She was perhaps at the upper 5% of her class when she graduated from a university, finished a degree in Education, and was an elementary teacher in our town's public school, but it wasn't just enough. Our family was growing, we are seven siblings, and my papa was then self-employed. I remember hearing stories of how difficult life was for them. My younger brother and I were just lucky to have been born in the later years, we don't have to experience so much of the troubles. This may have triggered her to go try luck abroad, like most teachers and many other professionals I guess have done then and now. All for the sake of feeding their families and hopefully create a brighter future for their kids; which I will not forget to credit to my mama. I credit this to her years of service to strangers and their children, to her years of lonesome nights, of longing to come home, and of wishing to serve her own family and her own country.
The job is not something to be ridiculed, and even any other jobs. It is not something to be talked about as less than great. Be it a balut vendor, a street sweeper, a takatak boy, a pedicab driver, a barker; or be it a farmer, a fish vendor, a sewer, a carpenter, a mason, a factory or a construction worker, etc. -- these are all honest workers earning a living for their families. They are the community's support. Little have their contributions been acknowleged. And little have they received praise for good work. The dirty jobs they call it, but its the hardest. We have been blinded by the impression that white collar jobs create professionals. It's a plain status. It still boils down to how you do your job, and how you perform it well. The only difference perhaps are their pay checks and their work place.
I, I work for a property developer and enjoys the convenience of an airconditioned room at our bulding's 28th floor and receives, for an entry level job, a perhaps good pay on the 15th and 30th of the month. But still, it doesn't make me think above the others. I remember a scene on the bus I took on my way home today, how a lady dressed in corporate uniform, has arrogantly warned, "Ano ba manong, paa ko yang inaapakan mo!" a middle-aged, medium-built, and by that time you could see, was already exhausted, mani vendor (from whom I bought peanuts for P5.00) of his stepping on on her foot. But prior to that, I already heard him, "pasensya na po kayo ma'am, makikiraan lang...", sign of his already courteous working attitude. It was so polite I myself have hated the lady for still being rude. The poor vendor humbly apologized one more, thanked the passengers who bought his goods and left. I could still see the lady being annoyed as her eyeballs rolled right-to-left. I hope scenes like this do not happen anymore - not in this country, and not in any part of the globe.
At the end of this all, every job still deserves respect. Not just those who are served but those who serves as well. We are not to make distinction between highest-paid executives or minimum-wage earners, or to draw a line between white-collar and blue-collar jobs, and more so, we are not to step on even the smallest in the workforce for if not... some can't even call themselves big.
Many have expressed their demands for apologies (which by now has been done as reported) especially women's groups. I understand. I too demand, on a rather calm, sincere, and reserved manner. Partly because I am a woman and a Filipina. But a larger part of which is because I am a daughter.
I remember being raised without the physical presence of my mama. Of going to school hoping that like my classmates, I was being accompanied to kindergarten school, not by my then 13 yrs old brother, but my mama or papa. I had my childhood and adolescence without the physical presence of a mother. This vital growing up stage has been compromised for the sake of our more secured future. I understand. We could have not finished school without my mama leaving and working abroad. And yes, she was a household help. She has endured a decade of giving foreign blood the comfort of living at home just to be paid by more than what she is paid in her own country performing a job more recognized and approved by a judging society.
She was perhaps at the upper 5% of her class when she graduated from a university, finished a degree in Education, and was an elementary teacher in our town's public school, but it wasn't just enough. Our family was growing, we are seven siblings, and my papa was then self-employed. I remember hearing stories of how difficult life was for them. My younger brother and I were just lucky to have been born in the later years, we don't have to experience so much of the troubles. This may have triggered her to go try luck abroad, like most teachers and many other professionals I guess have done then and now. All for the sake of feeding their families and hopefully create a brighter future for their kids; which I will not forget to credit to my mama. I credit this to her years of service to strangers and their children, to her years of lonesome nights, of longing to come home, and of wishing to serve her own family and her own country.
The job is not something to be ridiculed, and even any other jobs. It is not something to be talked about as less than great. Be it a balut vendor, a street sweeper, a takatak boy, a pedicab driver, a barker; or be it a farmer, a fish vendor, a sewer, a carpenter, a mason, a factory or a construction worker, etc. -- these are all honest workers earning a living for their families. They are the community's support. Little have their contributions been acknowleged. And little have they received praise for good work. The dirty jobs they call it, but its the hardest. We have been blinded by the impression that white collar jobs create professionals. It's a plain status. It still boils down to how you do your job, and how you perform it well. The only difference perhaps are their pay checks and their work place.
I, I work for a property developer and enjoys the convenience of an airconditioned room at our bulding's 28th floor and receives, for an entry level job, a perhaps good pay on the 15th and 30th of the month. But still, it doesn't make me think above the others. I remember a scene on the bus I took on my way home today, how a lady dressed in corporate uniform, has arrogantly warned, "Ano ba manong, paa ko yang inaapakan mo!" a middle-aged, medium-built, and by that time you could see, was already exhausted, mani vendor (from whom I bought peanuts for P5.00) of his stepping on on her foot. But prior to that, I already heard him, "pasensya na po kayo ma'am, makikiraan lang...", sign of his already courteous working attitude. It was so polite I myself have hated the lady for still being rude. The poor vendor humbly apologized one more, thanked the passengers who bought his goods and left. I could still see the lady being annoyed as her eyeballs rolled right-to-left. I hope scenes like this do not happen anymore - not in this country, and not in any part of the globe.
At the end of this all, every job still deserves respect. Not just those who are served but those who serves as well. We are not to make distinction between highest-paid executives or minimum-wage earners, or to draw a line between white-collar and blue-collar jobs, and more so, we are not to step on even the smallest in the workforce for if not... some can't even call themselves big.
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
Rush Hour
Its been almost a year and a half now. And being in the Metro still seems to be foreign to me. Well I guess it still does not stand parallel to the many years I spend in the little town I grew up and in the province I knew then as already a large parcel of the world that awaits. There--were only the humming of the birds and chirping sounds of the crickets may disturb you in the tranquil nights and where once in a while, the fury of the barking dogs around our neighborhood would keep you annoyed for some time and not always, because afterwards, you are delighted by the sounds of the then again, calm night Those part of my 22 years were all that I've been missing every time .....
It is how we call it in the Metro. The time being around 6 to 7 pm. For the employed, the 8-hour work has ended. And so a flock of people gathers around, to, from, the city streets or terminals, or just plain anywhere---strangers and more strangers. Different careers, profiles, orientations, goals, and indifferent maybe (well most). Add to that, the heavy traffic congestion, the simultaneous blowing of horns of obviously irate drivers, the mixture of air pollutants from vehicles and cigarettes, just all that noise, and clutter, and noise again both audible and not.
I used to deny myself entry in the City Life, as I was used until now to being one simple lad but I'm here and it seems okay. This will support the BIG dreams I have for myslef, for my family, and eventually the province where I grew up. Yes, it was not abandoned, it is afterall a place I will always call mine.
For now, the opportunity is here and I'm taking hold of them until the next rush hours.
It is how we call it in the Metro. The time being around 6 to 7 pm. For the employed, the 8-hour work has ended. And so a flock of people gathers around, to, from, the city streets or terminals, or just plain anywhere---strangers and more strangers. Different careers, profiles, orientations, goals, and indifferent maybe (well most). Add to that, the heavy traffic congestion, the simultaneous blowing of horns of obviously irate drivers, the mixture of air pollutants from vehicles and cigarettes, just all that noise, and clutter, and noise again both audible and not.
Gazing at the sky, I recalled, this is nothing really like home which was simple. No complications. But perhaps this is where home is for now. Where the rugged path outlined by weeds and some flowering grass turned to a busy city street separating lines of towering structures. Where the stand alone houses turned to high rising condominium units. Where the small sari-sari stores turned to be convenience stores. Where I only used tricycle, jeep and bus as a mode for my transport, which now has been added a cab, shuttles, the MRT and LRT, and lots of travel by FOOT. Where a mother's stirring of a good blend of coffee turned to that expensive little service from your favorite starbucks store. Where a free sumptuous meal on the family dinner table turned to a fast-served and not so tasteful artificial food. And the list of changes goes on.
I used to deny myself entry in the City Life, as I was used until now to being one simple lad but I'm here and it seems okay. This will support the BIG dreams I have for myslef, for my family, and eventually the province where I grew up. Yes, it was not abandoned, it is afterall a place I will always call mine.
For now, the opportunity is here and I'm taking hold of them until the next rush hours.
Saturday, March 14, 2009
blank
i do not really know how to start right now. thoughts are pouring but i can't oprganize them. where to really place them on. and how, hopefully i could fit the right words to describe them. (pause) ahhh!!! still have not found where and how to strike. (pause) ahhh!!! let's put it this way, i'm sleepy and i think i have to give it a rest now. and when i turn to sleep and as i close my eyes; as most have already done by this time of day in the philippines, i thank God for having added another day in my life. i know that He has given one not because i need it but because someone needs me---and that, i have to remember.
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