A Gypsy's Haven

The Country I Love

2011-06-11T23:34:00.003+08:00

I once blogged about my experiences riding the jeepney. It was supposed to be a fun, light-hearted post about what a daily commuter usually has to “suffer” in the jeepney. Surprisingly, it sparked a word war between two visitors who frequently comment on my blog posts!

When one writes about the Philippines—no matter how apolitical the post may be—it will strangely, somehow become controversial. Nothing seems to be a safe topic if it is about the Philippine culture, lifestyle or society. I haven’t blogged about Pinoy food yet but it had been a topic of conversation one time and somehow, still led to a gripe session about how we don’t know how to market our food abroad when it definitely can compete with other countries’ cuisine! Oh well...can talking about the weather be safe?

You know what they say about the thin line between love and hate? I guess that basically sums up how many of us feel about this country: I love the fact that it has such breath-taking sceneries.I love the hopefulness of the Filipino which may make them sad and even heartbroken about tragedies but seldom bitter. I love how easily people flash a smile even to strangers and how a laugh can just bubble up at any moment—and not just amongst children! I love the Filipino ingenuity and creativity. I love the musicality and artistry.

But for every single thing I love, there are things I don’t love. The corruption that seems to have stained the very fabric of our government and society. The desperate poverty that is so in-your-face and yet the privileged do not seem to see. The big companies, international or Filipino-owned, who cunningly find creative ways of squeezing every single centavo from us. The undisciplined way we conduct ourselves-whether in driving, crossing the streets, throwing trash or handling money.

I could go on—but I don’t want to be sad on the eve of the Philippine Independence Day. So what should I do? Concentrate on the good things and shut my eyes on the bad? Face the harsh realities and drag myself around like a victim?

I guess I should find the balance. I can pick up my trash. I can tell people of the beautiful sites they can visit. I can refuse to pay “under the table” even if it would speed up the process. I can buy products made by small Philippine-owned enterprises. I can pray. I can stick it out and insist on loving the country where God has placed me since birth.

Dear Philippines, I do love you. Despite the warts.

Home Is.

2010-12-08T22:50:00.002+08:00

Right when I deplane and step into the arrival area of Bangkok’s Suvarnabhumi Airport, I feel like I have come home. Right when I step out of the Victory Liner bus and onto the Baguio terminal, I feel like I’m home. Right when I get pass the immigration of Singapore’s Changi Airport or when I step out of the Batangas-Calapan ferry and onto the Calapan pier, that exact same feeling descends on me. Obviously, I feel that same way when I enter my little house in Quezon City or when I pull my luggage off the carousel at Davao’s Bangoy International Airport.

That coming home feeling has become so familiar to me, like an old trusted friend. I guess for someone who’s hard put to answer that million-dollar question—“where are you from?” --this should be of some comfort. For to consider a place home assumes a feeling of welcome.

Home also spells tradition and interestingly enough, I find myself sticking to certain “traditions” when I am in these familiar places: in Baguio—I am obligated to go to the Central Market and check out the fresh produce and buy freshly ground blend of Italian Espresso/Benguet/Batangas/Arabic fine ground coffee. In Thailand- I have to go for foot massage and get groceries at Big C and practice my meagre Thai with whomever is patient enough to listen. In Singapore, I have to meet with good friends scattered around the nation state and go for my regular walk along the Esplanade. In Calapan, I have to go to market and get my favourite dried fish, Bia and also lounge on the rattan hammock of the place I always stay when I am there

And yet with the comfort of the familiar, there is also a sense of detachment. I know that I cannot get myself so settled because once I arrive, the clock starts ticking and time inches me nearer to departure.

Home brings with it feelings of welcome and familiarity but never of permanence. Home as with most everything in life for me, has a transient ring to it.

Yet there is no sadness in acknowledging the reality of transience, for I know that every day I live, I inch closer to a place where transience is graciously replaced by the word forever.

I'm In Love with This Old Gizzer

2010-11-07T14:22:00.004+08:00

I have heard his name before in passing and saw his books when I browse in bookstores but could not be bothered--another self help book, I'd always mutter under my breathe as I sweep my eyes haughtily over the pile of How To books. Not for me, I would say.

Then I went on a Leadership seminar where Jack Welch was one of the resource speakers (unfortunately not in person, just on video). My first thought was gosh, he's so so old! I had to navigate through the gravel that is his Bostonian accent but once I did, boy, was I bowled over.

His straight, no-nonsense ways was a breathe of fresh air. He is tough; a pretty decent man who may come off as cruel if you go by some of his comments, but he is a generous soul who cares for people and how they may grow and be empowered even as he cares for his company's mission and values.

Enjoy and reflect: (Beware, its an hour long, but please take the time.)

It's just sad that a lot of what he says is so true--even in communities of faith. The point, I think, of his message here is neatly summarized in Jesus's words: The Truth Shall Set You Free. (John 8:32)

WORDS.

2010-11-07T02:37:00.004+08:00

I love words. Be it written or spoken. I love the way it soothes, tickles, excites, empowers, heals and enlightens. I love how they are never inanimate—the reader or hearer who receives the word brings it to a certain degree of life as he takes it in. Even boredom is a sign of life!

I cannot imagine a world without words. Without words, how can I be transported all the way to exotic lands I would never have stepped foot on had I not read about them? Without words, how can my heartstrings be tugged by stories of friendship, of pain, of love? Without words how can I release my thoughts and emotions to the outside world? Without words, how can I describe to you who I am, how I am and where I want to be? Without words, how can I imbibe more wisdom that can bring me to a better place and become a better person?

Yet in sad irony, words can also simply be words. Not inanimate--as it still somehow finds itself given life in one’s mind. Yet it can be inactive and unproductive. Words can be deceptive—the beauty of prose can distract you from its hollow reality. Words can be powerless and fruitless—serving only to massage the spirit and cuddle the will (well, at least I am smarter, holier and more important after hearing/reading all those words, etc.)—making a cozy nest that tempts one to shift into a more comfortable position and stay that way for as long as possible.

Today I heard a lot of words. A plethora of beautiful and exciting words: Purpose, Meaning, Celebration, Engagement, Courage, Rewards, Audacity, Greatness, Lead, Dream, Hope, Passion.

Today, I felt myself wrapped up in a lovely cocoon of emotions spun by those words: warmth, inspiration, hopefulness, excitement and joy. Oh if only I can just stay in here and enjoy its warm, secure comfort.

Happily, I have been reminded that words are made even more beautiful, more awesome, more glorious when life is breathed into them.

‘And the Word was made flesh and dwelt among us, and we beheld His glory, the glory as of the only begotten of the father full of grace and truth.’ John 1:14

In Praise of Food

2010-11-03T21:23:00.004+08:00

Not many words bring as much comfort as the word food. It comes a close second to the word family (and I suspect an overlap). And might even trump the word home—especially in this semi-rootless society where most everyone is stumped when asked where they’re from!

For one, food takes one back to fond memories of childhood--remember that memorable scene in the movie Ratatouille when food critic Anton Ego first came to the Gusteau's restaurant? One forkful of the simple, unassuming ratatouille and the hardened Ego was instantly transported to tranquil childhood days when home-cooked food was equivalent to being wrapped in his mother’s soft loving arms.

In different ways—some more dramatic and some less than Ego’s experience—food has that comforting effect on us. I can still taste the full-bodied Cantonese pork rib soup my mom used to whip up in the kitchen and remember how she accidentally got as kids drunk when she spiked the soup with whiskey (the taste wasn’t strong enough, she said) and was too impatient to let the alcohol evaporate first before serving. To date, that is still the best soup I have ever tasted. Hic!

Adjectives like scrumptious, crispy, succulent, luscious and delectable are enough to make one’s eyes glaze over and one’s mouth water—and food is not even mentioned with these adjectives! That’s how elemental food is in our psyche and thus how powerful.

On the downside, the absence of comfort also reveals itself glaringly in food—how many a mighty Fear Factor champion, having jumped tall buildings and wrestled with crocs, shrink into nerveless cowards in the face of the almighty balut? How many a courageous missionary, having left home and hearth to live for Christ in a foreign land find their determination in shambles in the face of eerily strange tastes that seem too insidiously corrupt their palates?

Food is also a neutral witness that somehow finds a way of insinuating itself into the ebb and flow of life and relationships. Even as it reveals one’s cowardice and tests one’s limits. It has also seen friendships formed, romances kindled—or rekindled, and families reunited. It has seen wounded spirits soothed, broken hearts healed (read: chocolates) and happiness deepened into joy.

Even when you hate the food your good friend adores (read: durian), you accept the difference and embrace the uniqueness and diversity of life that food symbolizes in reckless joyful abandon.

More than putting a man on the moon, I think food is the greatest of man’s invention and the one of best representations of the grace of God—you know, that awesome Guy who whipped up manna in the desert and turned water into wine?

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PS. Yes, my dear Blogmates, I am back-and hopefully with more consistency! :) I realized I missed blogging. Will make my visits soon! xx

New Day

2010-01-08T14:03:00.003+08:00

Do you realize that we've just about wrapped up our first decade of the millennium? How does thinking from that perspective sound? I look back and cringed at some of the hairy bits of the past 10 years and wonder how I survived them. I also look back and smile at some of the good ol' days that the last 10 years have created.

So what's next for me? Will my past define my future? Will I be able to break free from the hairy bits and be released to create new "good ol' days?"

Hope this little video below will encourage you as you face a new day, today.

Hang On by Smash Mouth

2009-10-20T22:10:00.005+08:00

Enjoy!

Things are getting weird, things are getting tough,
Nothings making sense but you keep on looking up
They tell you to be true, you're trying everyday
To keep it on the real still you got to find a way
To make your mamma happy, to make your papa proud
You'll wanna turn it up and all you hear is tone it down

So gather round I'm here to say
You'll never make everybody's day
But while you're around you might as well, catch the tiger by it's tail

And hang on hang on hang on
Everybody just get on get on get on
Get started and go on go on go on
Everybody just hold on

Sometimes I wanna cry, and throw the towel in
They try to beat me down but i take it on the chin
and everywhere i go the people all the same
and they just wanna know that everything will be ok
when things are getting rough you'll turn it back around
you gotta turn it up when they tell you tone it down.

And hang on hang on hang on
Everybody just get on get on get on
Get started and go on go on go on
Everybody just hold on
Just hang on

Honesty

2009-10-12T12:58:00.002+08:00

Yes, honestly, one of the gazillions of reasons I have not been blogging is because I dont think I have much to say these days. Somedays its easier to just write a one-liner thought in my Facebook status than to post a whole blog. So this "Honesty" post is actually a good way of posting on a blog---by answering questions. So guys, its tag time again!

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Can you fill this out without lying (it's not hard)? You've been tagged, so now you need to answer all the questions HONESTLY. At the end, choose at least 8 people to be tagged. Don't forget to tag me!

To do this, copy this entire message, then go to "notes" under tabs on your profile page, start a new note, paste these instructions in the body of the note, delete my answers, and type yours. Easy!

Next, tag people and list their namesat the bottom. Have fun! :)

1. What was the last thing you put in your mouth?
Home-cooked oatmeal champorado.

2. Where was your profile picture taken?
on a boat in Boracay

3. Can you play the guitar?
Nope

4. Name someone who made you laugh today?
Well, yesterday it was Pastor Peter Tan Chi at church.

5. How late did you stay up last night and why?
11:30pm, ironing clothes.

6. If you could move somewhere else, would you?
Not really...on second thought, that would depend where.

7. Ever been kissed under fireworks?
No(t yet)

8. Which of your friends lives closest to you on Facebook?
Tess, my landlady!

9. Do you believe ex's can be friends?
Yes

10. How do you feel about Dr Pepper?
Not a fan.

11. When was the last time you cried?
a few weeks ago.

12. Who took your profile picture
Myself.

13. Who was the last person you took a picture of?
A group of people in a workshop I conducted.

14. Was yesterday better than today?
About the same

15. Can you live a day without TV?
Yes.

16. Are you upset about anything?
Yes.

17. Do you think relationships are ever really worth it?
Some are, some aren't...

18. Are you a bad influence?
Err....depends.

19. Night out or night in?
Either way, depends on the occasion and the weather.

20. What item(s) could you not go without during the day?
Water, Contact Lenses, Toothbrush, Watch, Cellphone.

22. What does the last text message in your inbox say?
Requesting for prayer for the families devastated by landslide in Baguio. :(

23. How do you feel about your life right now?
Thankful despite circumstances.

24. Do you hate anyone?
No

25. If we were to look in your Email inbox, what would we find most?
E-tickets, messages from friends, and spam..!

26. Say you were given a drug test right now, would you pass?
Yep

27. Has anyone ever called you perfect before?
Yes but I think the person was not meaning me as a person, but something I did.

28. What song is stuck in your head?
Vienna by Billy Joel

billy joel - vienna songs
Download free mp3 | Download free music

29. Someone knocks on your window at 2:00 a.m., who do you want it to be?
Jesus

30. Wanna have grandkids before you're 50?
I dont think so...

31. Name something you have to do tomorrow:
Go to work.

32. Do you think too much or too little?
Too much.

33. Do you smile a lot?
I hope so!

Tagged: Beng, Aleks, Abaniko, Single Guy, Carlotta, Major Tom, Wil, Toe.

Beating the Blues

2009-09-12T12:38:00.012+08:00

For the first time in a long time, I am home on a Saturday. Schedule-less. Mind you, that is after emailing out reports and other official what-nots just a moment ago. My prayer partner has family duties to fulfill, so here I am at home, in front of the laptop, listening to online radio. Not one bone in my body desires to go out in this wet rainy day. My stomach is grumbling and I have no inclination to forage my cupboard for food to feed myself.

The past two weeks had been unbelievable and the fact that I managed to get through it with mildly flying colors—according to objective evaluations—surprises me quite a bit. I guess this is just another proof that the One who is at work within me continues to do so, quietly and almost unnoticed until I find time to enjoy the luxury of hindsight, which is today.

Those words from that much-used-to-the-point-of-roll-my-eyes-cliché “Footprints in the Sand” find their reality in my life, especially in the past half year, a difficult season to put it mildly.

This is one reason for the infrequent blog posts. No use spreading negativity as there’s already much of that floating around in the real and the web world. I have mentioned to Beng that I am probably better off going on a semi-hiatus with the season I am in.

But will all of my “issues”, I am thankful for lots of stuff that help me cope---oh yeah, and friends, too—can’t leave them out now, can I? :)

So aside from God and friends, how am I managing the blues?

1. Tennis – it’s a great metaphor for life. The best thing is learning from the fighting spirit of my tennis hero and also from all the mini-sagas that the world of tennis churns out.

2. Music – I usually am not into plugging my ears for the sake of music but the past couple of months, this way of commuting has helped me get into a better mood when I go to work.

3. Movies – how great is it to forget your own issues even for a while, laugh at all the zany stuff that happens on screen, have your heart moved by characters on screen who have chosen to redeem their lives in creative inspiring ways or even get yourself all horrified at seeing how life could’ve been much worse than your present situation!

3. Sleep – need I say more?

5. Thai Massage - nothing like it!

6. Sense of Humor – I am truly grateful to God for gifting me with a slightly irreverent, off-the-wall humor which has saved many a blue day for me.

…and many more, how about you, how do you beat the blues?

Love Without Talking

2009-09-06T21:23:00.003+08:00

I've been a bit "under the weather" lately--in more ways than one. So nothing much to blog about, til I stumbled on this video. Cute. Thought you guys would like it, too. :)

12 mins Video, No dialog

Mourning for Something More

2009-08-04T21:20:00.009+08:00

“Ako’y nagpapasalamat sa inyong lahat at lalong-lalo na sa Panginoong Diyos, na ginawa niya akong isang Pilipino. Talagang karangalan ko iyon, na maging katulad niyo…" – Corazon C. Aquino (1933 – 2009)**

Tita Cory gave me a long-stemmed yellow rose way back in 1986 when she was on that historic presidential campaign trail. Those were the heady days of yellow Fridays, and the subversive Mr. & Ms. magazine.

Those early days, I didn’t know much about politics—but I recognized then, in human form, abstract words like hope, faith, justice—and consequently, other abstract words like despair and injustice. Tita Cory embodied the former—until the day she died.

I feel like I am in a strange time warp as I commute the past few days and see yellow ribbons tied in buses, jeepneys and fluttering from many a lamp post and tree branch. The TV images of confetti-filled skies in Makati and the truck carrying the flag-draped coffin and surrounded with yellow blossoms—all brought back the memories of 1983 and the death of Tita Cory’s husband Ninoy.

The memories are bittersweet—gone now are two iconic figures of Philippine democracy. As the nation goes into mourning, I wonder---are we just mourning for Tita Cory’s passing or are we mourning for something more?

Tita Cory was not just an icon of democracy---but an icon of virtues tragically lacking in the Philippine political landscape: decency, simplicity, integrity, humility, and patriotism. Even the staunchest anti-Cory person can never accuse her of corruption. That she made mistakes during her presidency nobody argues against. But who doesn’t make mistakes? At least with Tita Cory, she did it with the interest of the nation at heart.

Her passing means we have lost something very rare but hopefully, in view of God’s compassion for this suffering land, not irreplaceable.

**"I give thanks to all of you, and most especially to the Lord for making me a Filipino. This is truly an honor for me—to be like all of you…"

O Life, How Cruel Thou Art

2009-07-06T23:09:00.011+08:00

Life can be cruel.

In the wee hours of this morning, I was again reminded of this fact—not that it is something we need to be reminded of.

And so, as Roger Federer lifted his record 15th Grand Slam trophy up for all the 15,000 (and more around the world) Wimbledon crowd to behold—everyone, including the champion was keenly aware of the man with the backwards cap, silent, head bowed, lips grim, loosely holding the runner up plate.

After over 4 hours of tightly-contested, nail-biting, cardiac-arrestable tennis, the victor was—the usual suspect. From Fed’s point of view—one could say that he only proved to all and sundry that he is a true champion—one who knew how to fight like there was no tomorrow even when it seemed like doom was inevitable. Alas, some storylines give you all the drama of twists and turns, only to end predictably.

Alas for Roddick. He fought with courage—it was true grit in action. A lesser man would have just thrown in the towel halfway through the 5th set--and be consoled by the fact that he did try his best. But fought he did, with all his might but still he lost.

The problem with tennis is that it is a lot more like life than Hollywood: The brave David-warrior does not always win his war against Goliath-gladiator.

But just like life—tennis is unpredictable. And unpredictability can bring with it, hope.

Oh the drama! No wonder I am in love with tennis.

Disappointment with a capital R

2009-06-22T19:34:00.005+08:00

Oh well, disappointments are supposedly to make us not take life's joys for granted.

Sigh.

"...it's unfortunate. I'm sad for him, because it must have been a very difficult decision to make." - RF on Rafa Nadal's withdrawal from Wimbledon due to injury.

Nice to know Roger feels the same way. :)

I heart the Jeepney

2009-06-17T22:14:00.010+08:00

Arghh…there’s too much negativity going around these days. Let’s talk about something fun! How about...

...the good ol’ iconic jeepney!

Something about this WWII army vehicle-inspired speeding piece of tin makes me feel sentimentally patriotic.

In the jeepney, you get to literally rub elbows (and upper arms, legs, feet, bum—you know what I mean) with pinoys from all walks of life. The nervous young man checking to make sure he has all the papers needed to get that overseas job on the luxury liner. The heavy set, well-coiffed-by-a-gallon-of-hairspray woman furiously fanning herself as her make up melts in the heat. The harried looking mom scolding her sulking daughter who forgot to bring her baon. The driver loudly swapping querida stories with his conductor in Cebuano. The irritated old man trying to avoid being suffocated by an oblivious young lady’s long hair streaming relentlessly towards him (obviously not a scene for shampoo commercials!).

In the jeepney, you get to feel all sorts of emotions. You are touched when a man quickly decides to get off earlier so the old lady with her heavy basket can have his seat. You see your life flash before your eyes as your speeding jeep misses a rampaging bus by an inch. You are on the verge of violence when a lady squeezes herself behind you to take the seat nearest the exit—when there’s nobody else in the jeep—so she can get you to pass her fare to the driver. Grrrr. You keep yourself from laughing out loud when you see your tanned, tough-looking jeepney driver admiring his newly-manicured nails (painted with clear nail polish)—but of course, checking them out the manly way, that is, fingernails curled inwards and not splayed out!

In the jeepney, you experience the ebb and flow of Pinoy life. When election comes, they’re bound to be plastered with election stickers of their favorite candidate (I swear I saw "FPJ in 2010!"). If you don’t have a TV at home (like me), don’t worry, the jeepneys will blast your ears off with the latest dance music that’s hit the popular TV shows. You know that life is really hard when the driver and a passenger are red in the face quarreling over whether he should pay P10 or P11.

Of course, if you are a foreigner new to the Philippines, a jeepney will orient you to Filipino culture by instructing you: that drivers are sweet lovers; barya lang sa umaga (pay with loose change in the morning), that you should “full” the string to stop; that only those named Judas do not pay their fare--and God knows who they are; that jeepneys are owned by people named Jun-jun, Ging-Ging, Au-au and Mak-mak; pangit ang dumidikit (those who tailgate are ugly).

By looking at the jeepneys’s artwork, you discover that Filipinos are spiritual (eg. painting of Virgin Mary, Bible verses spelled out all around the jeepney’s ceiling, the rosary dangling from the rearview mirror); that we love all things foreign (eg. Mickey Mouse, Garfield, Japanese Manga, the American flag and the Mercedes Benz symbol installed in the hood); and of course, that despite the state we are in, we are still proud of our country (eg. white sand beaches, Mt Mayon, Banaue Rice Terraces)

No other portrays life in the Philippines like the jeepney—the scary parts, the beautiful side, the sad moments, and the funny bits.

So, what do you love about the Philippines?

Okey, Fine, I am Happy for Roger.

2009-06-08T19:17:00.014+08:00

My feelings for Roger Federer have always been a bit ambiguous. Partly because I root for Rafa, and partly because he can sometimes be arrogant and a sore loser. But seeing him crying tears of joy as he held on tightly to that French Open trophy which had eluded him for four long years, you can’t help but feel happy for the guy.

I guess there’s something in each of us that makes us understand in a kindred sort of way, how it would feel like to finally achieve what we have long worked for or to see an almost impossible dream suddenly fulfilled.

Even if you are not a tennis fan, I am sure that you can at least relate to that feeling, right?

Allez, Roger…until Wimbledon.

Back from AWOL

2009-06-06T20:15:00.010+08:00

Some things you just don’t see coming. In my case, I didn’t see blogworld AWOL coming--but it did. The next thing I knew, its been six months since I last posted anything. How did that happen? Well, lots of things happened (and other internet distractions didn't help), like…

-Surviving a long, intense meeting before Christmas.
-Realizing that my nieces have grown a couple of inches taller in my absence.
-Having a few gallons of coffee (in total) with friends over Christmas.
-Crying my eyes out watching Kite Runner and A Mighty Heart back to back.
-Starting a new year’s resolution of keeping track of my spending on Excel (I’ve been good and relatively stingy since!)
-Witnessing The Might Federer sobbing and being comforted by his rival Rafa Nadal.
-Facebooking.
-Stepping on Cambodian soil for the first time.
-Looking like a dust ninja while hanging on for dear life in a Siem Reap Tuk Tuk ride.
-Waiting for flights in different airports.
-Meetings and meetings and oh yeah, meetings.
-Finally seeing my cute bald-headed Irish nephew in person.
-Crying my eyes out (again) reading Khaled Husseini's Kite Runner and A Thousand Splendid Suns.
-Being treated to a Japanese Onsen in Los Banos for my birthday.
-Having to pick up my jaw from the floor after watching “The Boy in the Striped Pajamas.”
-Marathoning through facilitating two-week long workshops.
-Having my bones cracked by a chiropractor for a whole month.
-Discovering my ADD tendencies after a psychological testing (a non-surprise).
-Borrowing a stranger’s cellphone to make a call in Tokyo.
-Discovering I missed blogging.
-Scouring 100 Yen stores.
-Ordering food on my own in a Tokyo fastfood joint (point of pride)
-Having to correct my tendency to refer to myself in the third person (no thanks to Facebook!)
-Sleeping in a hut and waking up to a refreshing view of ricefields.
-Suffering from sunburned knees in Boracay (long story).
-Trying to stay sane and steady as the erratic nature of my life caught up with me.
-Finally around to worship at my church in Manila, which I direly missed.
-Wondering how my blogfriends are doing.
-Enjoying good conversations with taxi drivers on my numerous rides to and from the airport.
-Spending a rare FULL day at home and bonding with my house.
-Helping a friend choose a wedding gown design through YM.
-Finally finishing Season 7 of 24.
-Found out that almost all my recently read books have Boarding Passes for bookmarks.
-Amazed at having teenagers pour their hearts out to me—at first meeting!
-Bumping into so many long lost friends on Facebook.
-Being shocked speechless at Rafa Nadal’s French Open loss. (yup, that was the sound of my heart breaking...)
-Missing Davao.
-Surrendering to a pint of Selecta Gold Chocolate Truffle.
-Having Lectio Divina with a good friend through Skype.
-Deciding to get back to blogging. :)

Peppered on these are good conversations, new friends made and the usual highs and lows of life and work. I was often “seized” with eye-opening insights that I should have taken time to blog about. If the past 6 months is anything to go by—there is much to blog about and look forward to in the latter half.

What were the highlights of the past 6 months for you?

In Love, All Over Again

2008-12-13T00:27:00.008+08:00

Before you jump into conclusions, this has nothing to do with the previous post, but everything to do with a book called The Shack.

My friends who have read the book, say the title with a touch of reverence and with eyes opened just a bit wider. And almost always, there’s this nanosecond pause before saying the title, like so: “Have you read…The Shack?”

If that doesn’t get you curious, then nothing would!

At first glance, the cover didn’t help. How warm and inviting is a picture of a lonely old run-down hovel that has seen better days—probably decades ago? To make it less inviting, it is dark and in the dead of winter. Only after I read the whole thing did I take a second look at the cover and notice the hint of something more inviting, more promising.

But the hint of something promising I saw in the eyes of those who have read it was enough to make me curious. So when I was lent a copy, I jumped on it—and so started the journey of falling in love all over again.

Peeking through the first pages of the book, I felt a little bit like Lucy Pevensie when she first opened that old creaky door of The Wardrobe, fumbled through the dark musty closet and suddenly found herself in breathtakingly beautiful Narnia.

What could be beautiful about a story of a father, Mackenzie Allen Philips, who lost his daughter in a tragic and cruel way? The cruelty I read in the first few chapters of the book made me want to quit—it was too painful and stirred up in me an anger that made me forget I was reading fiction. There are enough real-life situations to make one realize this is not just something that only happens in a book.

Yet, to stop reading almost meant leaving a gaping wound open. I had to read through to find my closure. And so throughout the book, I journeyed with Mack. I felt with him his barren loneliness, numbed defeat, bitter bewilderment, stark pain, heart-stopping surprise and later, unspeakable joy.

It showed me a different side of grief, and a refreshing view of The One Person who always gets the blame for every wrong thing in this world. The book showed me how in a wonderfully miraculous way, God upends what man meant for ugliness and evil and turn it into something beautiful and good. It also impressed upon me once again that no-holds-barred love that God has for a stubborn bunch of humans—so much so that He would sacrifice His own power and open Himself up to pain and suffering.

The ironic thing when I was reading this book and almost literally seeing lightbulbs turning on in my mind—is that it is nothing new. The truths are ancient. I read them over and over again in the Good Old Book. Yet being a dulled-by-too-much-hi-tech-entertainment Gen Xer, it took The Shack to take the thickening cataracts off my eyes and see the Bible for what it is, and see God for who He is.

And so I have fallen in love all over again.

I invite you to do the same.

===
P.S. I have since bought my own copy of The Shack. It is cheaper at National Bookstore than at Powerbooks. *grin*

Matchmaker, matchmaker...

2008-11-30T23:30:00.009+08:00

Joyce is a happily married mother of one. She met her husband through a matchmaking aunt who spotted her busily organizing an event in Davao. Not that Joyce is hard to spot—she is charming and vivacious—not to mention, pretty!

So she is a strong believer of matchmaking as a very valid, very effective way of finding The One. Not that she has actually hit the jackpot in that area—well, she did when she met her hubby—but I am talking about her own matchmaking attempts.

I once asked her, teasingly, “Aren’t you a bit discouraged that none of your matchmaking attempts have succeeded?”

Her reply? “Not at all! In fact, I am all the more challenged!”

That’s one of the reasons why she is one of my closest friends—her never-say-die attitude towards life, and her active desire for others to get the best out of life (marriage being just one of them).

I say active because she goes all out in helping others. Generous to a fault, she gives of her time in an unbelievable way. As if she is not busy enough with her work and her many ministry projects and preaching assignments, she would go out of her way to do things for friends, spend quality time on the phone with those who need wise advise or just a listening ear, and this is on top of family time. I sometimes find myself catching my breath for her sake as she talks to me about what she has been doing the past week. That is why I treasure all the more the Saturdays we spend together—talking, praying, sometimes crying and often laughing.

She is probably the only one who, aside from my mom and one other friend, I don’t actually mind fussing over me. But more than being the concerned mom, she has been a great friend in both rainy days and sunny ones. She cries with me and laughs with me—always ready to listen even when she has her own pressures that she needs to unburden. My eyes well up as I write this, because I remember those times when I badly needed someone to simply talk to and she, the ever busy mom, would go the extra mile—offering not just a shoulder to cry on but even opening her home to me as a haven to stay, rest, reflect or mend my wounds.

But aside from the rough patches, the sunny days are a joy to share with her as well. She can outtalk me, out-strategize, and outwit me at the best of times. Her charms border to legendary—how she manages to get people to do things for her is sometimes unbelievable. From her, I learn that charm goes a longer way that intimidation or anger. From her, I learn to make sure I don’t come out of the house looking like my passport photo. From her I learn how to handle sticky situations with wisdom and grace.

It has been 8 years now since I really got to know her. When I first came to Manila to work 8 years ago, she being a former churchmate from Davao who I didn’t really know very well, called up to ask me what I need and made herself available for me as I settled myself to city life. And since she is the kind of person that walks the extra mile, it was easy to see how our friendship deepened from there.

Being a matchmaker, of course, she just had to try her hand on me. And being a good friend, I just had to gamely play along! But this is one attempt I think she has given up on—though, to be fair, she has not given up praying!

It should assure her to know that even if she has not yet found success in the matchmaking department—unlike in all other areas—she has actually succeeded in one area that matters more to me—a good match of a friendship.

----

Thank you, Jenny for tagging me to write about a gift of grace. It has been a joy to write about Joyce!

Who is the person that you consider God’s gift of grace to you? I am asking this question to: Marilyn, Jophen, and Major Tom.

1. Put the logo in your blog.

2. Share a short story of someone whose life touched yours.

3. Add a link to the person who shared it with you.

4, Tag at least 3 other persons with blogs.

5. Leave a message on their blogs.

One of Those (Good) Days

2008-11-23T00:47:00.012+08:00

You know when you have one of those days that you want to put in a bottle, save it for a rainy day pick-you-upper?

Today was one of those days. I slept in and the light rain outside made it cooler than most days and all the more comfortable to snuggle up for another hour of lying in.

I woke up to a still day: no children hollering outside, no carpenters hammering away, no radio blaring news of doom. I curled up with a cup of coffee, reading The Shack, where I am half way—and in a weird way, something in the book reminded me of the two boxes that I had shipped back from the UK, which was due a few days ago. It had been niggling at the back of my mind—with my imagination running wild, something from The Shack stopped me from my imaginings and caused me to just say a short prayer, leaving everything to God. And on I went with my reading.

An hour or so later, what do you know? The boxes arrived! And at just the right time—that is, me being actually home (a rare event) to personally receive it.

I spent part of the afternoon “reuniting” with my stuff from the UK, including a bunch of dried lavenders I picked from the school gardens—now I can enjoy a whiff of the England summer in my Manila abode.

Then it was off to meet up with a friend at the mall (in a taxi with the driver actually giving me back my change…!) for a cheesy movie followed by a simple dinner and good conversation. Then to our pleasant surprise, a live wind orchestra was playing at the mall’s activity center. And so we sat enjoying coffee with the orchestra playing Beatles, Abba, Miss Saigon music, movie soundtracks and Christmas carols.

Now I’m back home and have just successfully assembled a nice lamp I bought in the UK and enjoying its warm glow while listening to quiet music and writing this piece.

If you think of it, there was nothing earthshakingly fantastic about today. But I think of this day as one of those small “bottled” treats tucked in unexpected nooks and crannies of life’s road to help us along in the journey. They could be something as simple as enjoying a bowl of Lucky Me Pancit Canton while reading greetings from long lost friends on my Facebook wall or chatting away ‘til past midnight with a friend on YM.

I am grateful that the Father knows enough to keep these “treats” sweet and simple, lest this pilgrim takes it all for granted and sets too high a bar on contentment.

The grass on my side of the fence is green!

The Big Four

2008-11-18T21:11:00.015+08:00

It seems to be tagging season again! And so typical of me, I take (too) long to get to them...no wonder it took more than a year for me to get tagged again! Anyway, Major Tom has not lost faith in me in the tagging department, so he tagged me with four questions.

4 Things Meme

Here’s the rule:

Click copy/paste, type in your answers and tag four people in your blogroll! Don’t forget to change my answers to the questions with that of yours.

Question # 1. Four places I go to over and over:
Office, Megamall, my Prayer Partner's house on Saturdays and Davao...!

Question # 2. Four people who e-mail me regularly
Hmmm...come to think of it, with the advent of YM and Skype, I think I should change the question to four people I YM/Skype regularly! So with that, it's Marilyn, Bebbs, Beng, and Rita.

Question # 3. Four of my favorite places to eat?
McDonalds (for spaghetti and Longganisa Meal), Kalye Juan (for their palabok and breakfast fares), Likha Diwa sa Gulod (at Krus na Ligas , UP), Davao's Penong's (Chicken BBQ) and...I could go on and on (I will have to do a few posts on food pretty soon..)

Question # 4. Four places you’d rather be?
Davao, Baguio, Thailand, and Palawan (the forth one's an unfulfilled dream)

Question #5. Four TV shows I could watch over and over.
Third Rock from the Sun, Bubble Gang, 24, Without a Trace

Okey,your turn: Aleks, Abaniko, Single Guy, and Lazarus.

The Pink Sisterhood Meme

2008-11-16T20:47:00.005+08:00

I've not been tag in ages so I'm happy to be tagged again after a long time, by Leah and Janeser for a good cause, that is--focusing on Breast Cancer Awareness and how important it is to catch it in the early stages.

* One in eight women or 12.6% of all women will get breast cancer in her lifetime.
* Breast cancer risk increases with age and every woman is at risk.
* Every 13 minutes a woman dies of breast cancer.
* Seventy-seven percent of women with breast cancer are over 50.
* Breast cancer is the leading cause of cancer death in women between the ages of 15 and 54, and the second cause of cancer death in women 55 to 74.
* Risks for breast cancer include a family history, atypical hyperplasia, early menstruation (before age 12), late menopause (after age 55), current use or use in the last ten years of oral contraceptives, and daily consumption of alcohol.
* Early detection of breast cancer, through monthly breast self-exam and particularly yearly mammography after age 40, offers the best chance for survival.
Facts taken from Women’s Health

And now here is the tag and the rules:
1. Put the logo in your blog.
2. Add a link to the person who shared it with you.
3. Nominate at least 7 other blogs
4. Add your link to the list of participants below
5. Leave a message for your nominee on their blog.

1. Fara 2. Massy 3. N.O.Y. 4. Maruica 5. A Great Pleasure 6. Lady Java 7. Kim 8. Pink Thoughts 9. Turn-U-Off 10. Roxiticus 11. Stay At Home Mom 12. Fida Abott 13. href="http://alsomommy.blogspot.com/">Also Mommy 14. Janice Ng 15. Juliana 16. The Painted Veil 17. Heart of Rachel 18. Mga Muni Muni 19. Gypsy 20. YOU

I am tagging:
1. Beng
2. Jenny
3. Verns
4. Annamanila
5. Carlotta

Just one of those days...

2008-11-03T23:39:00.005+08:00

By the time I saw my long lost uncle with his son in the crowded fruit section of SM megamall, it was too late to turn around and duck behind the pineapples. I knew by the direction of his eyes that it would just be a split second before he spots me. So I brave a delighted smile on my face and wave, “Uncle!”

As expected, the look he gave me was a cross between being pleasantly surprised and mildly exasperated. The last time we saw each other was gazillions of months ago at his daughter’s wedding. And even then, while he was enjoying the role of the proud father of the bride, he looked at me with mild exasperation.

Nothing has changed. For both sides, I guess. He is still mildly exasperated with this wandering gypsy of a niece who should set her priorities straight, get a life and settle down. I am still the wandering gypsy of a niece who has a life and probably may not settle for anything less than a better life than the one she already is enjoying!

True enough, the usual, almost one-sided conversation ensued,

“So where have you been these days?”

“Singapore? Thailand?”

“Oh, you just came back from the UK?”

“Right!”

“No nice guys there?”

“Didn’t find any?”

As I gritted my teeth and smilingly replied to his questions and found a nice opening to say goodbye, I braced myself for the final usual goodbye my Uncle gives me.

“Get married! Okey? Don’t wait too long!”

So, off I went. Back to my lonely, rootless, crazy life—my uncle must presume.

However much I enjoy my own company, his exasperation put a damper on my good mood that day, which I spent on my own--having just left a friend right before I saw my uncle. It’s not that I don’t appreciate his concern, however misplaced it is. I do. But what gets me is me. Why do I get upset just because I cannot please him? Why do I let it affect me?

But hey, that’s life, eh? You can’t please everyone—whether you’re married or single, fat or thin, tall or short, somebody’s bound to have an opinion.

So long as I am fulfilling His (He not being my uncle…) purposes in my life, I am fine.

I will be fine.

And so will my uncle.

The Case of the Missing Links*

2008-10-27T11:25:00.009+08:00

Is there a virtual yellow sticker tape that can be draped across this blog for the meantime while the investigation is going on? The crime being the Gypsy, in a moment of confusion, accidentally deleted the links from this blog while attempting to install a stat counter.

Initial findings show that the crime happened on October 25, between 2200-2315, Manila time. It has been determined that the links in question have been lost forever in oblivion, in the cyber black hole where all the deleted spams, email chain letters and letters from exes are forever sucked in---never to be seen again.

Meanwhile, sincere apologies are extended to the people behind the deleted links. If you can write a 500-word essay, double-spaced, explaining the benefits of your link to the cyberworld where the Gypsy is living, she will very much gladly link you back (The essay, of course, is a joke. You may write a poem instead. Or treat the Gypsy, or the policewoman, to a cup of coffee or a bar of chocolates, respectively).

*This police report written and authenticated by SPO1 Beng

(Please bear with this blog while the reconstruction---links, template, widgets---is ongoing. )

From ADHD Bees to Rafa

2008-10-22T23:38:00.006+08:00

It took literally one whole day for me to get from Chiangmai to Manila but having gotten home after two back to back flights, none of which is the most comfortable in the world, I am not too obviously tired (will see later when my head hits the pillow)—my mind continues to buzz like a busy bee and it flits from one subject to another as only an ADHD bee would.

It feels like ages since I was home—having started travelling at the beginning of October to Mindanao and ending it with about a week in Chiangmai. The diversity of faces, events and the variety of experiences, beds, food, morning rituals and conversations push and shove their way to the forefront of my thoughts, trying to grab my undivided attention—but to no avail.

What is forming before me as I try to process the past three weeks—is a monster of a to-do list: of resolutions, of projects and other to-do’s. This doesn’t include the to-do list I had already come up with after coming back from the UK.

On top of this is a pile of work that needs to be finished or followed up which I left behind at the end of September.

Theoretically, I hate the idea of busy-ness and so wish in my heart of hearts that life be less frantic, less toxic; more an amble rather than a sprint but hey, reality in this day and age seems to disagree.

The thing is, I did say theoretically—meaning, I have yet to experience a lifestyle that requires only ambling. Who’s to say I would actually prefer it? Would I end up climbing walls and go numb with boredom? Or would I bask in it and gleefully stop and smell every flower along the way?

A matter of conjecture at this point.

I wonder when it will be tested and proven--or disproved.

****

On a different note, coming home also meant catching up on what I’ve missed of the Madrid Masters. Weird. The last time I was interested in tennis was during Pete Sampras’ heyday and even then, hadn’t been a real follower. Until this year’s Wimbledon and I am converted for real. Thanks mostly to the Rafa-Roger phenomenal rivalry which has all the ingredients of a great drama. But aside from that, what fascinated me all the more are the different personalities that make up the tennis world and the fact that most players, though they may brutally demolish each other on court, can be such humble gentlemen off court. Exhibit A is Andy Murray’s humble pronouncements after beating THE Roger Federer (making his head to head record against Roger 3-2) and going on to win the championship—no chest-beating a la Usain Bolt in tennis, which is nice to see.

Anyway, I am happy to find out that a certain Spanish tennis player will still be able to maintain the number one spot by the end of the year. Too bad he lost at the semis to Gilles Simon but as always, he takes losing like the class act that he is. If at all possible, I hope that next year, this charismatic yet humble, well-brought-up young man will be able to top the fantastic 2008 year that he had—and deserved. But hey, the year’s not over yet, there’s still Paris, Shanghai and Davis Cup! Weee! Vamos Rafa!

Never Too Old...

2008-10-16T14:28:00.005+08:00

I got sick recently. With the number of bienvenida meals I ate my way through when I visited Davao, I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that my tummy went on a gastric strike! So there I was on my last day home in Davao, horizontal and having to cancel three more bienvenida eat outs, and the all-important date with my favorite hairdresser.

The gastric pains woke me up in the wee hours and had me groping in the darkness of my mom’s house for the medicine box where different meds where neatly labeled and contained in different plastic packets. As I chewed on an antacid and got back to bed, I had to resist the temptation to crawl into bed with my mom---and wake her up to tell her I was sick.

I wondered about that.

Having already taken an antacid, what was the point of waking my mom up? What did I expect her to do anyway? She ain’t no doctor—-neither is she a miracle worker.

Late that morning, my stomach still thumping painfully on all sides, I moaned to my mom, “I’m sick. I just took an antacid.” She looked at me and said, “Oh, okey.” I felt a bit let down—and then I thought, what did I expect? I already told her I took an antacid, so that means it is being taken care of, doesn’t it?

I have been sick many times, and usually there was no mom around since I’ve been away from home most of my life. I’ve coped with it well enough and only very occasionally with self-pity.

Yet the mere fact that mom was nearby seemed to change my whole psyche—and I guess for someone my age—(shhh..don’t ask!)it is as surprising as it is strange! I was going to say pathetic, but I don’t see how wishing for a mother’s TLC could be pathetic. Come to think of it, it's probably one of the most natural things in the world, now having said that—I guess the other times when I have coped easily without crying out for my mom must probably be the more strange and surprising thing!

For the record, my mom didn’t fuss over me, she never does, all she did was nod to affirm that I did the right thing by taking an antacid. I guess that was all I needed. I guess what mattered most to me then was her presence. It was enough to help ease some of the pain—even if it is more psychologically than actually.

What power a mother holds. Come to think of it, moms are miracle workers in their own way!

**Sorry blogpals for being amiss in going about my blog rounds...been travelling again and internet availability is intermittent..I wrote this one yesterday, during a mind-numbing, wifi-less, seven-hour wait at an airport...

What A Difference A Year Makes

2008-09-24T22:22:00.001+08:00

One year. Exactly. That’s how long I was in the UK. At this day and age of serial movies shown in yearly installments, a year can b a very short span of time. But it can be a long time as well, like when you watch how babies go from sleeping to crawling to talking. A year is also enough for me to enjoy certain experiences I would never have had if I stayed in the Philippines.

Even after being back for the last three weeks, I can still see myself in my mind’s eye running down the college corridor, chatting with my friends in the student kitchen, walking down the streets and feeling the chill in the air. These were routine stuff I did in one year, but there was also the one year’s worth of experiences—loads of them:

--like missing the train, twice.
--like getting locked in twice and locked out once.
--like trying my hand at cricket
--like trying my foot at football
--like obsessing about tennis
--like watching the whole FIFA season with an amazingly diverse crowd of nationalities in one year (most of which find them cheering for their own countries from the TV room)
--like successfully teaching my African classmates how to cook rice from a pot without burning it.
--like watching a whole game of rugby (icky)
--like whipping up a five-course dinner on my birthday (I never thought I could do that!)
--like picking up a bit of the Irish accent.
--like getting snowbound in winter and missing my flight.
--like developing deep and hopefully lasting friendships that will have to be maintained through skype or SMS.

..the list goes on.

But those are about me. Coming back, I realized that a lot of good and bad things have happened to friends and loved ones.

--like a worrying number of friends or their loved ones diagnosed with cancer, with a few having passed away after a short bout of chemo;
--like colleagues who have celebrated new life
--like colleagues who have left their jobs
--like friends who celebrated milestones
--like friends who have enjoyed new additions in their families through adoption
--like friends who have fallen in love
--and some who have gotten married.
--like some who have moved away
--like neighbors who have returned.

…the list goes on.

Thankfully, some things remain the same, like good friends, good food, and good ol’ Manila--still as noisy, as riotous, as fun, as crowded, as dirty, as in-your-face as ever.

All this in a year.

I still can’t quite make up my mind if it is too short or too long. Can you?

Frustrated to the Nth Degree

2008-09-18T11:23:00.005+08:00

I STILL DO NOT HAVE INTERNET CONNECTION.

Grrr.....

Of Tears and Goodbyes

2008-08-29T06:46:00.012+08:00

I must be getting old.

I read a goodbye card today from a good friend and was surprised at the tears that suddenly sprung up! It has been ages since I cried saying goodbye. The last time I did, I distinctly remembered it, simply because it seldom happens to me. This is not to say that I have a heart of stone—though I have been (unfairly, though teasingly) accused at times by people who don’t really know me. I guess the reason why I don’t break down into tears whenever I say goodbye is because…hmmm….come to think of it, I also don’t know why exactly. The reason must be hidden deep in the inner recesses of the subconscious. But just because I am hard put to think of a reason doesn’t mean I don’t know what the reasons are not.

Not crying my goodbyes doesn’t mean:

--I can’t wait to get away from this person/place.

--I don’t value the friendship and the time spent with this person/place.

--I am cold and unfeeling.

--I only have shallow, inconsequential relationships where goodbyes have no impact.

--my heart is not right.

--I have no tear ducts.

--I have some deep psychological issues about attachments.

--I don’t need anyone.

--I am impatient to move on (which some of you might have an impression of after this post).

--I don’t care enough.

Well, I guess that’s enough negatives for one post. Anyway, it seems things have changed. Age supposedly does that to you. Well, the fact that I have to stretch my hand out further just to read something clearly should prove the age theory. Figuratively, this might be true as well for goodbyes—the further a memory gets, the clearer it might become.

Go figure.

SO VERY VERY PROUD!!!

2008-08-20T18:24:00.007+08:00

I am posting this with a stupid grin on my face which I cannot, for the life of me, wipe off. This is because of three important things:

First, I FINISHED MY DISSERTATION--every single one of the 18,000 words has been spelled out (correctly, I hope) and typed in. Now I can slowly get myself out of the landslide of books that I have been buried under. The thing is I have yet to give it to my supervisor for a final look through but since he has been looking at bits and pieces of it over the past couple of months, my guess is that it shouldn't take too much tweaking. (fingers crossed).

Secondly, I AM A PROUD IRISH AUNT!! My closest friends here are a young Irish couple. Husband Mark woke me up at 6:30 this morning with a call to say that Rachel has given birth to a bouncing baby boy at 530am, more than a week ahead of schedule! Ohhhh...I am so unbelievably chuffed and so deeply touched that I was one of the first to be informed...how I sooo wish I can just hop on a plane to Belfast and see my Irish nephew in person. I'm sure he will look like me, what with amount of Chinese food his mom has been eating with me this past year!

Thirdly, and this is actually not my achievement. Rafa Nadal is the world's no. 1!! Yes, after that historic 5-hour match at Wimbledon this year, I have become a bonafide fan of this 22-year-old tennis wonder from Spain. French Open champion four times in a row, then Wimbledon (beating the mighty Federer on grass) and an Olympic Gold. "Wow" is an understatement, si?

Okey, so I am slowly coming back...but this last week will be a whirlwind of tying up loose ends, saying goodbye, sorting, packing and all the "regular" stuff a gypsy's gotta do--will squeeze time to slowly get back to the blog community and visit all of you soon, thank you so so much for your comments and visits even when I have not been coming over to your place these past months. Appreciate you all very much!

Just a Wee Distraction...

2008-07-16T22:44:00.003+08:00

It is cloudy and raining outside…the usual, unpredictable British summer. The college corridors and halls are empty of the usual hustle and bustle of students rushing to classes or pulling tricks on each other. I am holed up in the library, trying to focus on my dissertation but really, looking for some distraction.

During term time, it was so easy to get distracted, what with nosey students plopping into a seat beside you and offering food or just "good banter," as the Brits would say. I thought to myself then how much work I could do when I have no more distractions. Now with the rain outside, there is no sun to lure me out—there goes another distraction. How ideal is this to settle down and get some work done!

Hah. Famous last words.

And now, having made myself a cup of tea, and having chatted with a friend back home who happens to be on line, I need to settle down and work and what do I do? Blog!! Oh well, the spirit is willing but the flesh is--otherwise!

Hauling myself into the library was suppose to get me all disciplined and productive but in the end, whatever I do won't get me working---I will just have to simply force myself to do it. As Nike wisely adviced, “Just do it!”

Right, okey, will do!!

Until the next distraction...;-)

Help. Can my 18,000-word dissertation just write itself?

PS. Still on my so-called leave. This is just a--er--distraction. So I will still be scarce in the blogosphere.

Cheers, mates!

On Temporary Leave

2008-04-30T01:01:00.007+08:00

Excuse me, folks, I don't think I have much good will and cheer to spread around these days. But instead of coming up with a whine list (and I could give you a really long one!), I will just go off line...for now, and besides I have gazillion-word essays to write, so....pray for me!!

I wonder what I ate that day I decided to go back to school?!

Oh well, will miss bloghopping for now.

******
Let me just leave you with this verse from the Bible I read this morning:

"The Lord your God is with you,
he is mighty to save.
He will take great delight in you.
He will quiet you with His love,
he will rejoice over you with singing."

Zephaniah 3:17

May this truth manifest itself in your life.

*******

Cheerio!

God Will Lift Up Your Head

2008-04-20T18:33:00.004+08:00

by Jars of Clay

"But you are a shield around me, O LORD;
you bestow glory on me and lift up my head.
To the LORD I cry aloud,
and he answers me from his holy hill."
- Psalms 3:3-4

Give to the wind your fear
Hope and be undismayed
God hears your sighs and counts your tears
God will lift up, God will lift up, lift up your head

Chorus:
God will lift up your head
God will lift up your head
God will lift up your head
Lift up your head

Leave to His sovereign sway
To choose and to command
Then shall we wandering on His way
Know how wise and how strong
How wise and how strong

Chorus

Through waves and clouds and storms,
He gently clears the way
Wait because in His time, so shall this night
Soon end in joy, soon end in joy
Soon end in joy, soon end in joy
Soon end in joy, soon end in joy
Soon end in joy, soon end in joy
Soon end in joy, soon end in joy

(3X)
God will lift up your head
Soon end in joy

(3X)
God will lift up your head
Soon end in joy

Jack's Back!

2008-04-18T18:20:00.007+08:00

Oh Joy!!

Disappointment over.

I just stumbled on a trailer of 24's season 7! Apparently it came out late last year--and I missed it. Oh well, better late than never. Can't wait to start another adrenaline-rushed couch potato adventure! Weeeee!

===
...and speaking of disappointments, Blogpal Swipe comments:

"No 24 this year though due to the writers' strike. sigh..."

Oh, well...life's not too good these days it seems. *sniff*

Tara Na!

2008-04-16T22:21:00.011+08:00

You know how it feels when you anticipate something and then it doesn’t happen? Yeah, disappointment is not the best feeling in the world. Sometimes, it may just be a small twinge that gets you all self-deprecatory, “See? Told you so—it won’t really happen...” And that’s fine, a day out with friends would easily erase the feeling—without even having it mentioned out loud.

And then there are the more crushing ones that could literally make you feel heartsick, or angry or sad. Those ones need more than just a pep talk from friends—for some, it would take more than a hug, or even a good cry. This is something not easily erased.

The strange thing is—what could trigger deep disappointment in one and just an “oh, well…” reaction from another could be almost the same thing. Not all the time, of course but on certain occasions anyway.

It all depends I guess, on how high you set your expectations, or how many disappointments you’ve already been through in life (some only have a diploma in disappointments while others have Ph.D's!).

Whichever the case maybe, the whole point I guess is when one starts moving on from that disappointment. And yes, the key thing is “when” not “if.” What a wasted life it would be if one decides to wallow in it or build a home on top of it. Yes, analyze it if you must, philosophize about it (like what I'm doing now), deal with it, cry over it—and if the disappointment redeems itself at some point, great--but for now, we’ve got to move on.

I have always loved the phrase moving on—in almost all areas of life, most especially in the area of disappointments. Because moving on means giving yourself the chance to heal, to hope again, to grow, to discover better things and to journey on.

So, if you are disappointed, just like I am today—what are you waiting for? Let’s go! Let’s get a move on! Or as we say in Filipino, “Tara na!”

The Voice of Our Own Gladness

2008-04-14T05:12:00.008+08:00

“The voice we should listen to most
as we choose a vocation
is the voice that we might think
we should listen to least,
and that is the voice of our own gladness.
What can we do that makes us the gladdest,
what can we do that leaves us
with the strongest sense of sailing true north and of peace,
which is much of what gladness is?
Is it making things with our hands out of wood
or stone or paint or canvas?
Or is it making something we hope like truth out of words?
Or is it making people laugh or weep
in a way that cleanses their spirit?
I believe that if it is a thing that makes us truly glad,
then it is a good thing and it is our thing
and it is the calling voice that
we were made to answer with our lives.”

by Frederick Buechner,
quoted by Ken Gire
in "Windows of the Soul"

"Seize" the Unexpected

2008-04-07T04:14:00.018+08:00

Just when I thought I could stow away my hoodies and my jumpers and put on my summery short-sleeved tops…
Just when I thought I would trade my comfy thick slippers with flip flops…
Just when I thought I should set the heater aside and get myself a pair of sunglasses…
Just when I thought I could start studying al fresco instead of the warm comfort of my room…

===
I woke up with a start at 5:30 in the morning and saw a narrow sliver of dim amber colored light between my thick curtains. I burrowed my head back into the pillow but then looked back again at that familiar looking amber light and sensed how still it was. Saw I snuck out of bed, tip-toed and looked out my window but couldn’t see much through the condensation but had an impression of ghostly white shapes. My curiosity peaked and I went out to the corridor and looked through the half open window…and my hunch was right: snow had fallen.

As glad as I was for another chance to crunch on snow, I couldn’t help but wonder on how capricious the British weather can be. The past couple of weeks, you would think that we set our clocks forward one hour to welcome summer instead of spring. The past couple of weeks, we were playing in the sun and eating our dinner picnic-style under the bright evening sky.

And then…suddenly spring/summer gets interrupted by a winter that seems to be making up (with much embarrassment, I am sure) for its weak showing during its scheduled season.

You can gauge its embarrassment by its timid showing of hardly a foot of snow dusting all surfaces except the pavements and roads…and how quickly it melted away by noon.

Leaving not a few disappointed folks who decided to sleep in on a Sunday.

But then who knows, it might decide to keep its promise to show up again tomorrow and the next day as the weather stations predict. If one is to gauge from the way the temperature has again gone all the way down and the heating’s back in full blast, then maybe we will see another white and wonderful world (limited edition) tomorrow?

===

But for now, I leave my flip-flops within reach…
I put back on three layers of warm clothes…
I continue to study in the warm comfort of my room…
And enjoy this temporary time warp.

Whatever the case maybe, it pays to be flexible and enjoy the day as it comes.

Carpe Diem (with or without snow)!

Have You Ever...?

2008-04-04T07:51:00.011+08:00

Facebook has this game called “Have you ever…” and after you answered whatever question is asked of you with a Yes or a No, you see the results on the following page accompanied by another question—and if I am going to base my sense of uniqueness on this test, then I’d probably fall flat on my face!

Imagine being asked,
“Have you ever licked the bottom of your shoe?”
…or “Have you ever eaten gum off the ground?”
…or “Have you ever been licked by a cow?”
…or “Have you ever swam with a crocodile?”

Hmm…

Naturally, the resulting percentage of people who actually said “yes” to the above questions are at a minimum. But the fact that they are not less than 8% makes me wonder about them. These are obviously some of the most interesting people on planet Facebook. I would say none of them would be people I know since I have a sneaking suspicion my friends are interesting but not in a “I-licked-the-bottom-of-my-shoe” kind of way.

Though some questions need qualification---like for example,
“Have you ever intentionally killed an animal?”
…well! A mouse does come under the animal category, right?

And then there are the questions that you don’t want to be caught dead saying yes to, like:
“Have you ever pretended losing your wallet so you don’t have to pay for a meal?"
Of course, I would say no (especially since this is on Facebook which would then eventually publish your answers) and I promise you, I am being TRUTHFUL in this occasion…

While some of them would constitute real abnormality if you say no to them, like
“Have you ever felt like dropping everything and escaping from everyone?”
…or “Have you ever felt alone in a roomful of people?”
…or “Have you ever missed someone that you actually felt the pain?”
…or “Have you ever wished you could turn back time?”
…or “Have you ever pretended that everything was alright when it wasn’t?”
…or “Have you ever been so confused that you didn’t know what to do?”

I am relieved that in these instances, I am actually with the majority--that is, I am normal!

But how about “Have you ever wished you were someone else?”
…hmm, what if I did wish this, even just for a rare second, when I chanced on a photo of a sparkling and sunny Kate Hudson? I’d venture to say that this still means I’m normal!

But then again, I was not asked certain questions that would show that even if I have never swam with a dolphin or gotten married in Las Vegas or been to Paris or Egypt, I still could say that I had some pretty exciting times.

Oh well, I guess one person’s excitement could be another’s “Yikes-I-wouldn’t-do-that-even-if-I-were-paid-a-million-bucks…” situation.

Whatever. At least I am over my “I-wish-I-was-Kate-Hudson” moment. I’m back to being happy with myself!

So what have you ever done that would put you on the normal-but-special category?

This Thing Called "Age"

2008-03-27T06:25:00.008+08:00

Age.

There’s no neutrality in this word.
No indifference.
No middle ground.
Either you hate it or you embrace it.
Even putting down your age in
innocent-looking official forms
is not neutral
--it can either open windows or close doors.

Age can limit a person,
Or become a passport to freedom.

It can gain one credibility,
Or it can make one a lightweight.

It can be a source of contention,
Or be the tie that binds.

It can make one sophisticated
Or soaking wet behind the ears.

It can be covered up with a lie,
Or declared out loud with pride.

It can make one reckless and brave,
Or scare one witless.

It can prove a point,
Or disprove some prejudice.

It can be a subject of ridicule,
Or trigger an amazed gasp.

It can be a goldmine for jokes
Or a can of worms.

It can be embraced eagerly,
Or fought against tooth and nail.

It can be a rude shock
Or a pleasant surprise.

What of you,
what do you think of age?

Whatever you think of it,
this is just to let you know: it’s my birthday
(says the attention-deficient blogger)

So, I guess you know where I stand
in the emotional pendulum on this subject matter.

This Day in Paradise

2008-03-20T22:55:00.004+08:00

This day in Paradise
new feet are treading through
high halls of gold

This day in Paradise
new legs are striding over jewelled fields in which
the diamond
is considered ordinary.

This day in Paradise
new eyes have glimpsed the deep fire ready
to flame the stale earth pure.

This day in Paradise
new blood, the rose-red juice that gushed at Golgotha
now ripples and races down the pure veins
of a recently arrived beloved.

This day in Paradise
a new heart pounds in praise
a new body, shaped by sacrifice.

This day in Paradise
the daunting dart of death
has no point
no place
and no meaning.
And whilst we mourn and weep
through these human hours
this day in Paradise
the blazing embrace
between Saviour and Son,
goes on, and on, and on.

- By Stewart Henderson in A Giant's Scrapbook.

A Reassuring Vision

2008-03-17T20:47:00.008+08:00

Sharing with you one of my favorite stain glass images...something to reflect on for Lent, maybe?

Click on image to enlarge

Grace Within You

2008-03-15T08:24:00.007+08:00

"I fell in love when I was 17…
with God.
A foolish girl with romantic notions
about the life of a religious,
but my love was passionate.

Over the years my feelings have changed.
He’s disappointed me.
Ignored me.
We’ve settled into a life of peaceful indifference.
The old husband and wife who sit side by side on the sofa,
but rarely speak. He knows I’ll never leave Him.
This is my duty.

But when love and duty are one,
then grace is within you."

-The Mother Superior in "The Painted Veil"

I Just Might Strike Twice!

2008-03-10T05:17:00.006+08:00

I was tagged gazillions of months ago by Lazarus on "What Type of Weather Are You?" but only just now got around to doing it. The fact that I am suffering from Blogger's Block helps fill the blog silence somehow...(blame it on too much reading assignments!)

So, anyway, here goes:
1. Below is my profile...

You Are Lightning

Beautiful yet dangerous

People will stop and watch you when you appear

Even though you're capable of random violence

You are best known for: your power

Your dominant state: performing

What Type of Weather Are You?

2. Contradict/Consent to the Result
I was actually quite surprised with the results--makes me out like a really frightening person, after all, who wants to be hit by lightning? But come to think of it, I DO have a temper which I manage to curb most of the time, though not a hundred percent of the time...

3. Share a Practical Weather Tip...
If you are in the Philippines, walking under a light drizzle is nice--but doing the same thing in the UK is NOT a good idea...BRRRR...!

4...and a Life-Giving Weather Quote
I'd rather be a lightning rod than a seismograph.-Ken Kesey

5. Tag 5 people...
Hmm...unlike lightning, I have been too slow in responding to this tag so I wonder if everyone else in my blogroll has done it. Anyway, whoever wants to do it, feel free!!

Thanks for the tag, Lazarus!!

Do You Look Like Your Passport Photo?

2008-03-04T03:49:00.003+08:00

“43 years of living out of a suitcase.”

Among other things, this was how the life of a couple who served God all over the world, was described.

And you would think that having their life described as 43 years of living out of suitcase, they would look much worse than their passport photos!

But they don’t. In fact, they look the exact opposite—that is, they looked like they’ve been living very well in a nice comfy house all their lives. The harsh realities of life that usually show in people’s faces left no marks in theirs. There was nothing in them that gives off a sense of rootlessness or unsettledness. They seem to be people who knew who they were, where they've been, what they’ve done, where they’re at and where they’re going.

Wow.

I’ve lived out of a suitcase for a significant number of years myself—and there are certainly times when I definitely feel like (and, I'm sure, look like) my passport photo! I can’t quite say that like this couple, I have no feeling of unsettledness and rootlessness. Many times I still feel that sense of what’s next--with which I would respond with either an “oh, no!” or an “oh, joy!” Hopefully, more often with the latter than the former.

But then again, I’ve obviously experienced less than what they've been through—or less than what God has put them through to get to where they are at this point in their lives.

I guess too, that there is this matter of attitude and choice on how to take what life dishes out to you. And one thing that life seems to be dishing out to me in heaps is air mileage (and no business class upgrade to show for it!)

Not something my environment-conscious friends will be happy about—polluting the world with my “carbon footprints.”

Carbon footprints aside, I will just make a commitment to myself to choose not to look my passport photo.

And hopefully, after x number of years of living out of a suitcase—and a pink one at that—I can, not only choose to look gazillion times better than my passport photo (through natural means, thank you)—but feel just as good, too!

Can Hardly Wait

2008-02-18T08:47:00.003+08:00

Outside the sun shines in all its brilliant glory. The gigantic plane tree is still naked—barely a leaf to cover its many scrawny arms and fingers. But under its stark monstrosity, a carpet of lavender flowers is slowly unfurling, spreading out and overtaking the green grass that had held on to its vibrance through the winter months.

And its just mid February. It seems like spring can hardly wait to come in and shoo the bitterness of winter away.

And I can hardly wait to go out and enjoy the brilliant weather outside, especially knowing how the warmth of the sun has taken the edge of the winter chill that still lingers—hopefully not too long now.

Can hardly wait. How impatient I sound! But these days, I find myself not being able to say, “I can hardly wait to go home.” A few months ago, that would have been so easy to blurt out and mean it. But with friendships formed, life settling into a comfortable, predictable pattern with splashes of spontaneity, the strange has become the familiar—and I find myself singing a different tune.

But then again, as I remember the warmth of the weather back home, the good friends back home, the food back home, the work/lifestyle I enjoy so much back home, I find I can actually say, I can hardly wait.

There are still a number of months before I finally go home but my feelings are as ambiguous and unpredictable as the English weather—now dark and damp, now bright and dry, now sunny and foggy.

If life can simply be like neat little compartments, things would be less ambiguous, less complicated, less of a hassle…and then again, less of a life.

Oh well, I can hardly wait---for life to continue its unfolding. Ambiguity can be the spice of life.

The Odds are Good!

2008-02-12T00:37:00.000+08:00

Speaking of "odds"...here are some photos of odd and not-so-odd stuff around the UK...

Speaking of British Dry Wit....

Nothing is impossible...(oink if you agree!)

Huh?!

Guess who?

Seen him around?

Speaking of chunky...could this be him?!

How...organized!

A refreshing (and life-saving!) sign for the mildly dyslexic (like me!)

You Just Have to Laugh...

2008-02-04T22:57:00.000+08:00

At the city center one night, while enjoying the chill in the air, and steaming hot coffee, a strong aroma of grilled beef made all our heads turn. It was from an open-air hamburger stall that said “THE BEST BRITISH BEEF.”

Rachel turns to me and says, “So, what do you think of our British Beef?”

I whispered loudly to her ear, “MAD COW.”

Her husband, Mark, pokes me with his finger and says, “How dare you call my wife names!”

=====

George from Uganda touches his 1/8 inch close crop of hair and sighs.

“What’s wrong?” I asked him.

George gives another loud sigh, “I need a haircut, my hair is so long!”

======

Rachel’s dad nudged Paul, the only single guy in the party and with a sideways glance at the group of us single girls, “Hey, aren’t the odds good for you tonight?”

Paul looks at us chattering away and sighs, “Yeah…but the goods are odd.”

RAIN

2008-01-24T17:48:00.000+08:00

This video of Rob Bell speaks to me so profoundly. Thought I'd share it with you. Hope you will be blessed just as I was.

My Best Friends

2008-01-22T22:50:00.002+08:00

These days, these two are my best-test friends. If not for the two of them--I would be cold, uncomfortable and miserable...hopefully these are temporary conditions...

...a warm comfy pair of slippers...

...and the heater I inherited from an old student...

..and I SO look forward to the day I won't need them to be my best friends anymore...

Unwritten

2008-01-14T08:12:00.000+08:00

I think I am not only speaking for myself when I say that the past is made up of jigsaw pieces of unexpected moments that finally fit together on hindsight. Looking forward to a new year means bracing ourselves for more of those unexpected moments to happen. Even though we have certain things penciled into our calendars, who’s to know how those supposedly planned events play out?

I find the song “Unwritten” by Natasha Bedingfield reflecting much of the mood I am in as I face the new year. Each day is a blank page and its up to us what to write on it—yet, in a divinely strange way, each day is also a page filled with God’s invisible ink, authoring the events of our lives—but its up to us whether to trace His handwritten words on each page or not. I wonder what blog posts I will be writing about? I wonder how things will look like when I look back to 2008?

I am unwritten, can't read my mind, I'm undefined

I'm just beginning, the pen's in my hand, ending unplanned

Staring at the blank page before you

Open up the dirty window

Let the sun illuminate the words that you can not find

Reaching for something in the distance

So close you can almost taste it

Release your inhibitions

Feel the rain on your skin

No one else can feel it for you

Only you can let it in

No one else, no one else

Can speak the words on your lips

Drench yourself in words unspoken

Live your life with arms wide open

Today is where your book begins

The rest is still unwritten

I break tradition, sometimes my tries, are outside the lines

We've been conditioned to not make mistakes, but I can't live that way

Staring at the blank page before you

Open up the dirty window

Let the sun illuminate the words that you can not find

Reaching for something in the distance

So close you can almost taste it

Release your inhibitions

Feel the rain on your skin

No one else can feel it for you

Only you can let it in

No one else, no one else

Can speak the words on your lips

Drench yourself in words unspoken

Live your life with arms wide open

Today is where your book begins

The rest is still unwritten


Staring at the blank page before you

Open up the dirty window

Let the sun illuminate the words that you can not find

Reaching for something in the distance

So close you can almost taste it

Release your inhibitions

Feel the rain on your skin

No one else can feel it for you

Only you can let it in

No one else, no one else

Can speak the words on your lips

Drench yourself in words unspoken

Live your life with arms wide open

Today is where your book begins

Feel the rain on your skin

No one else can feel it for you

Only you can let it in

No one else, no one else

Can speak the words on your lips

Drench yourself in words unspoken

Live your life with arms wide open

Today is where your book begins

The rest is still unwritten

The rest is still unwritten

The rest is still unwritten

Irish Highlights

2008-01-10T00:45:00.000+08:00

I’m back!!

Do you remember how when we were kids we all had to do essays about “My Summer Vacation” almost every beginning of the school year? Well, that’s how I felt about blogging about my Christmas break! But unlike those summer vacation essays where you write about the usual went to the beach, watch TV, and all that, I actually have special stuff to write about—coupled with the excitement of being back in cyberspace. It is a small miracle that I survived the limited internet connection I had during my break but then again, I thought it would be pretty pathetic to be holed up in a room surfing the net when I should be out enjoying my first time in Northern Ireland! So there—hopefully that will excuse me for my long absence from cyberspace.

Anyway, what was it I was going to say? Oh yes, highlights, highlights of my Northern Ireland adventure—oh how do I count the ways?? Anyway, here goes..

A Blast in Belfast
Not the political sort, thankfully, as Northern Ireland has experienced peace for about 10 years. I had fun scouring through different shops and just enjoying the sights of Belfast—including going on a bus tour on an open top bus on a rainy day! The tourist guide’s Belfast accent was so thick that I did a double take at one point on her short spiel about the docks where the Titanic was built (they claim not to be responsible for the sinking!) and pointed out the presence of “two giant yellow Koreans” that was a testimony of the busy shipyard of the Belfast past. Koreans?! Oh…cranes! Oh well, she almost got me there. (And yes, I did manage to go a few rounds in the Belfast wheel!)

Awesome Sites

I loved the walks down the beach that I did with friends on Christmas eve and on other occasions—though nobody would ever-ever dream of going in for a dip, except maybe for a few odd Irish who has made it a ritual to freeze their behinds for a few seconds, I guess just to check out how it feels like to get hypothermia! Anyway, I was happy enough to hear the sound of the waves crashing while some of my friends decided to lie on the sandy shore in their warm jackets—a pathetic but funny sight, if I may say so!!

And wouldn't miss the chance to see the famous Giant's Causeway--even if my hosts rolled their eyes when I asked if I could go there--apparently, they have been there a million times, since every single visitor who goes Northern Ireland wants to see it. One of my hosts happily obliged--wee!

Irish Hospitality

I spent time with a number of friends and that meant sleeping in a total of 5 beds in 5 different houses over 20 days—which meant literally living in my suitcase but it also meant being able to spend extended times with friends and getting to know their friends and family as well. I think I can safely say that I know half of Northern Ireland’s population—and if you talk about six degrees of separation, I think I must be then “know” every single person in Northern Ireland somehow—you see, I found out how all my Irish friends knew each other, or at least knew somebody who knew them who knew me. Oh well, you know what I mean!! The Irish culture is such a warm inclusive culture that it didn’t take too long for me to feel at home (which also meant lots of tea, coffee, potato bread, minced pies, Christmas pudding and chocolates.) Speaking of chocolates, I found out the secret of winning the Irish over--just feed them chocolates!

White New Year

THE highlight of my stay turned out to be the fact that my holiday was snow-capped—literally!! You see, on my third to the last day in Ireland, I decided to spend it staying overnight with a retired couple who are long time friends (from their days in the Philippines) in the seaside Irish town of Newcastle. The plan was for them to drive me back to Belfast the next day at about 530pm after I have seen the sights. So we spent that day enjoying the sights—the fact that the wind was strong and bitterly cold by the shore and up the Mourne Mountains did not deter us (though it was the first time my cheeks were frozen!) from enjoying the sights. Almost the whole day, there were drops of ice that intermittently rained down and each time I would look eagerly at Sam, my host and ask, “Is it snow?” and he would say no each time I asked (which was problem a hundred times) and then finally 530pm came and it was time for them to drive me back to Belfast so that I can catch my flight back to England early next morning. By 530pm the sky was already dark and so I could hardly make out the shapes outside the window. So how was I to know that the lumps by the side of the road as we drove more inland was actual snow? Until Sam pointed it out to me, “There you are—snow!!” The more inland we went the more excited I was as I saw the white sheet that seemed to cover thing around the countryside—but as our car came to a crawl and as we looked out at the gazillion of red taillights in front of us, thrill turned to worry. After twenty minutes of inching our way and sometimes just waiting on standstill, we were able to ask the cars on the other side, seeming to be coming back from Belfast and realized that most cars were unable to go up the slopes because of the slippery road conditions. So my hosts decided to take another route and with the same results! So we decided that I should just miss my flight the next day and book a flight two days later just to be safe. And so I did miss my flight and returned home with my hosts in Newcastle-but hey, I was not really all that put off—who would since missing flight meant enjoying an hour a half’s walk on 6 inches of snow (it felt like taking a tour of Narnia when the Ice Queen still ruled), taking in the awesome sights around me and building my wee snowman? (I could hardly go into snowball fights with the retired couple I was with so had to settle with crunching on snow--which was just as great).

Back to Reality

There is so much more to tell (Like my first fox and reindeer sighting, like the first time I ate blue cheese...)!! But alas, since my flight was three days late, I came back to college hitting the ground running—that is, having to do all my pre-class readings, housekeeping, etc etc. It is indeed back to reality, and after hugs and hellos from classmates, it was great to find out that even though this meant the end of a great break, I was still happy to return to Gloucester.

May the New Year be a great adventure with the Lord--for me and for you.

No Room for "Perfunctory"

2007-12-17T08:22:00.000+08:00

The weather outside is supposed to be -2c but “feels like” -7c, that is according to uk. weather.com. But no matter, I survived the short evening walk with a friend going to church for the carol service tonight. There was for me a feeling of “settled comfort” in celebrating Christmas the traditional way—that is, singing traditional carols and hearing angel monologues and reading the Good Book and again reflect on the fact that what is being celebrated and remembered is an event so awesome it impacted history and humankind more powerfully than any other thing under heaven.

Yet after the whole thing, we stayed behind and over warm cups of tea or coffee, biting delicately on mince pies, chit-chatted about where everyone was going for Christmas, how the weather was getting really chilly, how some still have to wrap up work and all that. How ironically perfunctory life can settle back to be after a carol service.

An hour’s reflection on Jesus---or maybe a season, and lives move on--until the next season. I feel a bit of sadness that I could actually be so perfunctory about Christmas. It means more than minced pies, or the funny Christmas decoration of a stuffed Santa climbing into a window in the house beside the church, or hot tea with milk or a box of chocolates, or the number of Christmas cards I’ve received and arranged nicely in my room.

It’s a good thing that God is never perfunctory—that word may not even be in His dictionary…oh well, I simply breathe a little prayer, that my heart may be eased with this fact because I know that my love even at its best, can never even begin to match up to a whisper of His.

I pray that He will amaze you (and me!) with His love this Christmas.

Chocolate-Covered Bliss

2007-12-14T01:03:00.001+08:00

I'm sorry that I'm not really sorry about not being able to share these unbelievably rich, melt-in-the-mouth pieces of bliss with you...

London 101

2007-12-11T07:33:00.000+08:00

One of the first things I was trying to work out when I first came to the UK was how on earth I can get myself to London. And the answer came in the form of blogpal Jen! Like a true jetsetter, she came to UK for a visit after a job-connected training in France and asked if I wanted to come over and stay with her in her friend's place in Essex and go around with her in London. So, what else would be a better motivation to finish three 4,500-word essays, I ask you?

So here's the state of my room pre-London...

Anyway, Jen and I had a lovely (so Brit of me, ey?) Friday of walking around Central London. We took turns taking photos, enjoying the architecture of the Natural History Museum...
...enjoying clear blue skies (for a change, no rain, at least for that Friday anyway...),

...feeding a squirrel with skyflakes crackers (and yes he/she loved it and came back for seconds!),

...enjoying the scene at dusk at Kensington Park...

until Jen's hands turned numb from the chill...and mine, too a few minutes later. So a mug each of Starbucks' Eggnog Latte (yum!) to hold helped defrost our hands nicely.

It was great to have Jen as tourist guide since the London underground system looked scary...

...and her expert guidance gave me more of a handle on it--so actually being with Jen was like taking a course on London 101, which was a great help!

Hey, Jen--come back again when I'm still around, okey?

A Night in the Life of a Student in Panic

2007-12-05T22:48:00.000+08:00

typetypetypetypetypetypetypetype……hmmm…. typetypetypetypetypetypetypetype

wordcount…435…*sigh*

typetypetypetypetypetypetypetype (yawn) typetypetypetypetypetypetypetypetype

wordcount…1080

typetypetypetypetypetypetypetypetypetypetypetypetypetypetypetypety….

coughcoughcoughsneeze!sneeze!sniff!sniff!

checkblog

bloghopbloghop

typetypetypetypetypetypetypetype typetypetypetypetype

typetypetypetypetypetypetype

wordcount 1504 *sigh*sigh*

coffeecoffeecoffeesipsipsip

checkinbox

readreadreadreadeditediteditreadread (I can’t believe I said that!)deletedeletedeletedelete

coughcoughcoughsneeze!sneeze!sniff!sniff!

wordcount down to 1301 *sigh*

typetypetypetypetype...

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stomachgrowls…waterwaterwaterglugglugglug

glanceatpacketofpotatochips *sighs*

“butidontwannabrushmyteethagain!”

*sigh*

typetypetypetypetypetypetypetype typetypetypetypetypetype

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wordcount 2300 coughcoughcoughsneeze!sneeze!sniff!sniff!

checkbookcheckreferencecheckinboxcheckblog…

yawnyawnyawn

checkinboxcheckblogchecktime

yawnyawnyawn

*SIGH*

Stare@screenstare@screenstare@screen…

wordcount still 2300 (ofcourse)

yawnyawnyawn…

typetypetypetypetypetypetypecoughcoughcoughsniffsniff

typetypetypetypetypetype

coughcoughcoughsneeze!sneeze!sniff!sniff!

wordcount 2700

clickxclickx

blinkblinkyawn..yaaaaaaaaaawwwwwwwnnnnn.....

*sigh*

stretchstretchstretchyaaaaaaaaawwwwwwwnnnnnnnn.....

poweroff

….1800 words more to go….*sigh*

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PS. Sorry I am so deluged right now...will bloghop when I am free from all these...

Excitement Is In The Eyes of the Beholder

2007-11-30T01:18:00.000+08:00

Events this week:

In the Philippines…
An earthquake hit Manila!

In Gloucester…
The sun sets at 4pm!

In the Philippines…
A typhoon hits Zamboanga!

In Gloucester…
The temp’s down to 6c at night!

In the Philippines…
A coup attempt was squelched!

In Gloucester…
There’s a Christmas Market at the Town Centre!

I miss home.

When in Rome...

2007-11-27T04:05:00.000+08:00

..spell as the Romans spell...*sigh*

Globalization in a Dish

2007-11-20T22:20:00.000+08:00

No, not to worry, this is not cute Miss Squirrel from my previous post.

The story behind this dish is:

A Welsh classmate went hunting for rabbits with his friends over a weekend and promised to bring two 'trophies' to a Gambian classmate. My Gambian classmate decided to cook it for Sunday dinner for some of us. One he decided to make into rabbit in peanut soup and the other (in photo) into fried rabbit. He didn’t have any seasoning for the fried rabbit, so I gave him a packet of Indonesian Ayam Goreng (Fried Chicken) Mix to marinade his fried rabbit in (which in the end I had to do for him…men!) His other problem was the peanut soup mix which he didn’t have, so he substituted it with cheap peanut butter from Tesco, which worked quite well. While he cooked his best friend from Malawi and a classmate from Korea assisted him by mashing the onions, all the while complaining that onions should be chopped not mashed.

An Indian friend realized that some of the Brits found it hard for their sensibilities to eat cuddly rabbits for dinner and so she decided to make some Indian chicken curry. The Irish classmate decided she will forego her ‘principles’ this time around and have rabbit for dinner. I cooked Thai Jasmine rice to go with the meal since Indian Basmati was more expensive.

While we were eating another classmate from China dropped by and joined the meal while another classmate from Zimbabwe asked “Is this really rabbit? Are you sure it’s not chicken?” three times while eating.

All the while we wondered if we can get the Italians do dinner next Sunday…

...just a wee personal take on globalization.

...and yes, it tasted like chicken.

..and yes, they are thinking of squirrels next time.

A Morning Visitor

2007-11-16T04:37:00.000+08:00

"Could you be so kind to spare a cup of tea, love?
There's a bit of chill out this morning..."

My 110th Post

2007-11-12T23:34:00.000+08:00

**WARNING: LOOOOONG Post.

Since I missed celebrating my 100th post, (I think I was in the midst of transition then), I decided to celebrate my 110^th post instead, first, by turning my blog pink and now, listing 110 of my favorite 'stuff' in life , in random order…

Sleeping in, tucked under smooth, fresh-scented sheets on a queen-sized bed on a rainy day.
Eating my favorite instant noodle while watching a really funny movie on DVD.
Chilling in Baguio.
Blogging.
Taking “artsy” photos that actually come out really artsy.
Rainbows.
Chatting non-stop about everything and anything over Figaro coffee with my favorite people.
Reading a page-turner late at night when the world is still.
Walking along nature trails in cool mountain retreats.
Wide windows.
Tomato ketchup.
Worshipping at Christ Commission Fellowship.
Going for a one-hour thai massage at my favorite massage place.
Mining up spiritual treasures from my Bible.
Longsilog Breakfast (with tomato ketchup).
Having “whatever” conversations with my nieces.
Serving friends my specialties: Chicken Curry or Spaghetti Bolognese.
Sudoku.
People-watching at airport lounges.
Swapping belly-aching jokes with friends.
Foot spa.
Getting around on my own in other countries.
The smell of the ground after the rain.
Practicing my meager Thai.
Bringing foreign visitors around Manila (on public transport!!) and getting them to enjoy our local food.
Earrings.
Spur-of-the-moment out-of-town trips.
Giving the right gifts to people.
Dark chocolate.
Crossing out stuff from my TO DO list.
A good bargain.
A good sneeze.
The scent of Sampaguita (I think its Jasmine in English?)
Meeting up with long lost friends I never thought I’d see again.
Filling up forms. (Yeah, I’m weird that way).
Figuring out people’s personalities/temperaments through Myers Briggs (and finding out I am right.)
Finishing assignments.
Flip flops.
Finally making use of stuff I’ve put aside (read: hoarded) for future use.
NOT getting spam in my inbox for a change.
That “Eureka” moment when I finally understand the convoluted sentences written by academic scholars.
Surfing for and installing nice desktop images.
My Canon digicam, TK.
Listening to foreign friends talk about behind-the-headlines stuff about their countries.
Japanese Green Tea.
Some structure in life.
No-beating-around-the-bush people.
Pleasant surprises.
Writing.
McSpaghetti.
Tulips.
Making lay outs.
Warm hands and feet even when it’s cold.
Warm “jumpers.”
Long emails from my favorite people.
A heater (at least, while I am here in the UK).
Jack Bauer (in case you didn’t notice).
My laptop, CK.
Denzel Washington movies
Ice cold Diet Coke or Diet Pepsi (whichever is available).
Crossword puzzles.
Sushi
Freshly laundered clothes
Staying in Thailand.
Carnations.
Summer rains.
A warm tight hug from a friend.
Light romantic comedies like “While You Were Sleeping”
Yahoo Messenger (alas! My friends are online while I am asleep, and vice versa)
Being the first to “get the joke.”
Witty people.
Babies (when not crying)
Nice clothes.
Josh Groban
Rich, deep colors
Treats and freebies.
Strong warm shower.
Violin music.
Sharing.
Reminiscing about my time at the refugee camp. (No, I wasn’t a refugee, I worked there.)
Picking up a foreign language.
People who know how to say “Thank you.”
Comfortable chairs where I can sit with my feet up or tucked under.
Bailey’s and/or Kahlua
My space.
Autumn (for the colors not the chill).
Fresh air.
Considerate people.
Pure unadulterated silence
Mushrooms (not the magic ones!)
Common sense.
Sincere smiles.
Nice, accessible, hole-in-the-wall restaurants that serve good and reasonably priced food.
Latin music.
Class discussions (yes, yes, I am a bit of a nerd.)
Thai/Vietnamese/Indonesian/Malaysian Local Coffee (served with condensed milk!)
Different types of bath products (shampoo, shower crème, etc.)
Nice immigration officers.
Summer.
Contact lenses (not the colored ones)
Efficiency.
Wings. (Ladies, you know what I mean.)
Well-composed, powerful, emotive photographs.
Everything from the 80’s (excluding fashion and hair)
Picking an unfamiliar dish in a menu and discovering that I made the right choice.
Philippine Mangos
Pinikpikan manok at Café By the Ruins in Baguio. ( I don’t want to explain this dish to the faint-hearted.
Clean, spacious, well-decorated, nice-smelling bathrooms (amply supplied with toilet paper and liquid soap).
Neon yellow highlighters.
Lists.

**whew!

Owning Up to Pink

2007-11-10T19:06:00.000+08:00

No, you have not made a wrong turn, my friends.

This is still Gypsy's Haven...only pink!

A big "Thank You" to Aleks who helped me set this up! When I wandered over at Paolo's Blog some time back, he had all these different links to nice blog template designs and I found this template to be quite nice...and gypsy-ish....until it was set up. And Aleks, bless his soul, with his busy schedule and with blog celeb interviews, even walked the extra mile (and did a great job!) by tweaking the template design a wee bit to make the posts readable in this template.

I just didn't realize it was so...pink!

Life can be ironic. But, as we sometimes say, "C'est la vie!" Some of you might think just because I am a gypsy, I love change and spontaneity--well, not really, not all the time. I can be a really boring, cautious creature of habit. (For example, today is a sunny Saturday and instead of going out with friends to the city center, I opted to have a warm mug of tea, stay in my room and finish my readings and essays as the deadlines are about to break down my door!)

So this will take some getting used to, but I do feel it's high time I get out of the dark (blue), so to speak.

...I know my pink luggage will be happy.

What do you think?

38 Questions

2007-11-05T00:01:00.000+08:00

**Answered on Saturday Night.

1. Name one person who made you laugh last night? A schoolmate who slurred his words, pretending he was drunk.

2. What were you doing at 0800? Sleeping in.

3. What were you doing 30 minutes ago? Struggling to understand a book on Globalization.

4. What happened to you in 2006? I spent six months in Davao and worked out my enrollment to a college in the UK.

5. What was the last thing you said out loud? “Most of the financial growth has occurred in the form of high risk ‘hedge funds’ and other purely money-dealing currency and securities markets that trade claims to draw profits from future production.” I read out loud hoping this would help me understand what sounds greek to me. (Didn’t work.)

6. How many beverages did you have today? 3 cups of hot tea with milk and sugar and a cup of coffee and a punch.

7. What color is your hairbrush? Cream.

8. What was the last thing you paid for? A box of cup soup

9. Where were you last night? Talked til 2am with some friends in the dining hall.

10. What color is your front door? Murky avocado green

11. Where do you keep your change? Small thai woven purse

12. What’s the weather like today? Cold and gloomy

13. What’s the best ice-cream flavor? Mango (Selecta only)

14. What excites you? Opportunities to travel and meet up with long-lost friends

15. Do you want to cut your hair? Did that before I came to England-- too expensive here.

16. Are you over the age of 25? Yes.

17. Do you talk a lot? Yes but I discovered I can be out-talked.

18. Do you watch the O.C.? No, am loyal to Jack Bauer.

19. Do you know anyone named Steven? Yes, a good friend’s cousin

20. Do you make up your own words? Yes, sometimes.

21. Are you a jealous person? Think so, sometimes.

22. Name a friend whose name starts with the letter ‘A’. Aileen

23. Name a friend whose name starts with the letter ‘K’. Keith

24. Who’s the first person on your received call list? My classmate here.

25. What does the last text message you received say? “Sorry for late reply, when are you coming? I am excited to see you soon!!”

26. Do you chew on your straw? I used to chew on a pencil.

27. Do you have curly hair? Nope.

28. Where’s the next place you’re going to? Ireland for Christmas!!

29. Who’s the rudest person in your life? Rude people are never “in” my life.

30. What was the last thing you ate? Cold buffalo wings and a caramel apple.

31. Will you get married in the future? No idea.

32. What’s the best movie you’ve seen in the past 2 weeks? East is East (it is hysterical!!)

33. Is there anyone you like right now? Does liking Hugh Jackman count?

34. When was the last time you did the dishes? This evening.

35. Are you currently depressed? No way, even if the weather out is gloomy.

36. Did you cry today? Why on earth would I?

37. Why did you answer and post this? Because I have no idea what to blog about and was tagged by Lazarus and Niceheart.

38. 5 people you tag next? Mon, Hoop, Jenny, Major Tom and Kayni.

Warm Autumn Ramblings

2007-10-31T10:06:00.000+08:00

The clocks turned back an hour last Sunday. For me, this seemed like an official goodbye to summer in the UK. There have been other indications of summer leaving:

Like the frequent rainshowers (hello, umbrella and waterproof jackets)

Like the gazillions of leaves that you “crunch” on while walking. (hello, vacuum cleaner on my room’s carpeting)

Like the drop in temperature (hello, heater, jumpers, socks, socks and more socks)

Like the sun retiring early (hello, lamps)

Like the number of hot coffee and tea I have sipped from a warm mug (hello, caffeine!)

Saying goodbye to the summer months also meant one very sad thing for me—that is having to say goodbye to my flipflops pretty soon. I have been able to still wander around the corridors (and a few short trips outdoors) with it but my love for flipflops is not to the point of frostbite, so it will have to stay indoors or maybe parked in my room for sometime.

Not that everything’s all that bad now that summer is over—rest assured, the novelty of being in England has not exactly worn off. Autumn brings its own charms and most them are seen in the molten colors around me as I take walks. Thankfully the sun still comes out
most days. I also get to look “posh” ankle-length boots (bought from good ol’ ukay ukay) and nice jackets and scarves (courtesy of good friends).

Another hello that autumn brings is the warmth of new friendships. Having settled into the community life in college and finding your niche in it helps warm one up—it could be a hug, a cup of warm tea especially made by a friend, a special dish of extra hot Indian curry, a sweet, encouraging anonymous note slipped under your door, an exchange of private jokes and hand-signal greetings (too complicated to explain!), saturday DVD nights all huddled together in the warm TV room.

As a new friend would tease me when she clasps my perpetually cold hands, “Cold hands, warm heart.”

It’s nice to know that for every goodbye, there are hellos—and that for every draft of cold air, there is warm company to ward it off.

---and there's English (Part II)

2007-10-26T07:35:00.000+08:00

...and I also learned that...

Bangers are not some kind of gang but actually something you eat (and we all have eaten it as sausage.)

Aubergines are what you put in moussaka and this makes it sound more posh than saying, “I put eggplant in my vegetarian lasagna.”

Barbies are not what little girls play with, in fact, kids are not allowed near it since its where they grill their bangers and burgers.

“Pee” is not what you do in the toilet but that’s the price range I can afford (and happy to pay for).

Chips are also made of potatoes but they are not thin and crispy (those would be crisps!)—and they are said to go well with fish and vinegar. (and I, of course, still prefer ketchup!)

Courgette sounds more romantic thus the Brits prefer to eat this than the humble zucchini.

Jacket potatoes do not mean fashionable spuds in leather, they’re just spuds baked in their skin. (Ouch!)

When you’re chuffed, it means you’re happy and not irritated or itchy with rashes.

Runs are not what you do everyday to keep healthy---in fact, if you have them everyday, you’d get dehydrated and have to admit yourself into the hospital (so be careful what you stuff yourself with!)

A garage is not where you park your car and leave, its were you “fill” your car and leave. (Fill it with…what? Remember the previous post? Yes! Petrol!! Well done!)

Powerpoints are not produced by Microsoft, but you need to get your computers plugged into them to use your Microsoft (or Mac).

A coach is not somebody who yells at you when you shoot the ball into the wrong basket, its what you might want to take when you need to go out of town.

A jumper is not the coverall Dennis the Menace usually wears—well, actually, he might need to wear a jumper when its cold…

A chemist is not somebody who works at a laboratory, it's a place to buy your drugs, I mean, your medicine.

A hole in a wall is not what you haunt for if you’re on a gastronomic adventure but it’s where you might need to get money from if you do go on one.

The Subway is where you get a nice (and pricey) sandwich and the underground is where you catch the trains.

Broody is not when you are in the mood to brood but when you are in the mood for a brood (ie. bushel of babies!)

I could go on and on…but hey, I 'm still learning! Cheerio for now, mates!

There's "English"--and there's English (Part I)

2007-10-18T06:43:00.000+08:00

Last week, one of doors to the shower cubicle had a post-it sign that said ”Shower not in use.” I thought that was a strange—but I figured that maybe the lock wasn’t working and so you need to use that post to indicate when it's in use or when it's not. But since it wasn’t the shower cubicle I normally use, I didn’t give it another thought. Until one day when I was using one of the sinks in that bathroom and a bathrobed-Brit dorm mate came in and groaned, “Oh no, not again!” and left with a sigh for the other bathroom. It was only then that it dawned on me that “Shower not in use” actually meant it was NOT WORKING.

Obviously, there’s "English"---and there’s English—and no two are the same (nor created equal as the Brits would insist, and I know from experience since they have observed loudly that I spoke American English--observed with an accusatory tone, I might add).

I’ve learned that…

Rugby here is not to be sniffed or administered in “gaping” shoes, but actually it is all about grown men groping and clawing each other for the sake of an oval ball.

A bonnet is not where a bee flies into but where men stick their heads into when they're fixing their cars.

When you go into a surgery, nobody will cut you open, they might just check your tongue and make you say, “aahh.”

You can have dinner at lunch time and have tea in the evening, and be quite full.

A rubber is the innocent eraser and not something that controls population growth.

A boot is not what you give people who are not performing well but its actually where you stick your luggage in (or in the case of the Mafia, dead people).

The first floor is on the second floor and the second floor is on the third floor.

Half nine is not 4.5 but 9:30--am/pm.

People walk on pavements not sidewalks, and so do their dogs.

Brit cars prefer petrol to gasoline.

A crèche is not something you eat but it’s where you put your baby if you have to go somewhere else.

There is no yellow color on their traffic lights, only amber.

Afters are what you look forward to when you've finished your main meal but when you are dining with the Queen you will have dessert instead.

3 in 1 Meme!

2007-10-12T05:29:00.000+08:00

Even with my assignments breathing down my neck, I know that I must respond to the three—yes, three!—tags from Ipanema over the past few months (read: centuries ago!!). My sense of duty and responsibility to my fellow blogger is strong and therefore cannot be ignored, so assignments can just wait a wee bit for now. Anyway here goes!

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A. I was given the Thoughtful Bragger, ooops, Blogger award which is my third award from Ipanema (and the forth award if I go back to childhood, this would include my poster-making win at elementary, I think I mentioned this before so you can see how pathetically thrilled I am!). So thanks, Ipanema, my friend, you know you are always welcome if you decide to visit the UK ( as if I have a proper home here, but will definitely make a cup of tea with a spot of milk, my lovely.) See how thoughtful I am? *wink*

=======

B. I was also tagged (also by Major Tom) to write about my second name (or middle name as some would call it), which I unfortunately do not possess and for this reason I sometimes get suspicious looks for immigration officers in airports because I obviously share my not so unique name with a couple of hundred other people. In fact, on my first trip abroad when I was about 17, the immigration officer in the then called Manila International Airport wanted to detain me because I shared the same name with a drug pusher. As if!!

But anyway, I have recovered from the so-called traumatic incident and so will simply give myself a second name and surprise, surprise, its GYPSY. *grin* So, okey, heeeere goes! First, the rules:

1. You have to post these rules before you give the facts.
2. Players, you must list one fact that is somehow relevant to your life for each letter of your middle name. If you don’t have a middle name, use the middle name you would have liked to have had.
3. When you are tagged you need to write your own blog-post containing your own middle name game facts.

Here’s what GYPSY means to me:

G – gallivanting. As many of you know, due to my job (and my nature) I do a lot of travelling. Sometimes I feel like I can’t do anymore but when I do stay put in one place for some months, I think my feet literally itch. For a month now, I am “stuck” in Gloucester since travel is incredibly expensive here and I need to save up for it. So, to keep my feet from itching, I go out for long walks. In fact, last week, I walked around town for two hours (that’s a personal record)!

Y – you. I am almost always curious about the people I meet. I ask questions and wonder why they are where they are, who they are, and what makes them tick, among other things. The problem is that I'm a talker myself and if you share something that piques my interest, I would end up gabbing about it! Oh well..

P – peer. As in a colleague. I had a long talk with a colleague who insists that I should develop my leadership potentials, but I believe that I can be of better help to people by coming alongside them than by leading them. Plus there’s less pressure, at least, expectationwise!

S – space. Somedays it means outer space. Depending on my mood, sometimes I go off somewhere into outer space and end up asking the same question a few times before the answer registers. It’s a good thing my officemates are patient with me. Somedays this means personal space, I am an extrovert who has a pig-headed hermit living inside me, and its name is Gollum (my precioussss ssssspacceeee…..).

Y – That’s “why” in text language. I have been accused of being over-analytical sometimes. I like to ask why about a lot of things and sometimes it takes a long series of whys before my curiosity is satisfied. But after only a month here in the UK and with the demands of the course I am in, I might just get tired soon of asking why since the lecturers here expect me to answer my own question. But why?! *sniff*

=======

C. The third tag I got has to do with my deskstop. Boy, I feel like some celebrity being obsessed about by a movie magazine! (Humor me…!)

The tag calls for a screenshot of one’s own desktop, including all the possible icons thereon.

As you can see from my desktop--I am sooo missing the Philippines!!

Anyway, for those tagged, here's a complete set of instructions, please read this:

*Upon receiving this tag, immediately perform a screen capture of your desktop. It is best that no icons be deleted before the screen capture so as to add to the element of fun.

You can do a screen capture by:

Going to your desktop and pressing the Print Scrn key (located on the right side of the F12 key).
Open a graphics program (like Picture Manager, Paint, or Photoshop) and do a Paste (CTRL + V).
If you wish, you can edit the image, before saving it.

For MAC users: Press [ Apple] [ Ctrl ] [ Shift ] and [ 3 ]

* Post the picture in your blog. You can also give a short explanation on the look of your desktop just below it if you want. You can explain why you preferred such look or why is it full of icons. Things like that.

* Tag five of your friends and ask them to give you a Free View of their desktop as well.

And so…I am tagging Beng, Abaniko, Aleks, Ate Grace, and Jap!

Thanks again, Ipanema, for the tags! It was a fun diversion from my reading assignments!

Prayer on My Window

2007-10-07T21:37:00.000+08:00

The prayer written on my window is in Portuguese. Inherited from a former student from Brazil. Perhaps it was written during times of loneliness, or times when her studies felt like it was too much, or times when all the "foreign-ness" around her seemed overwhelming. Then perhaps she felt she needed to look outside of herself and to God and how He would wish her to respond.

Perhaps.

And if this is so, I share her prayer. Here it is in English:

"Like a lighthouse that shines in the night,
like a bridge over the water,
like a shelter in the desert,
I want to be used in a way that pleases you,
in any place you might place me .
Here is my life, use it."

And I say, "Amen."

Hugging the Space Away

2007-10-01T19:00:00.000+08:00

I had to be the shoulder to cry on last week to two new friends. One because of terrible news from home of a relative’s death, the other from having to say goodbye to her boyfriend who stayed only for the weekend. As I put my arms around each one, I felt very keenly, how I was purposely causing the “space” between to disappear. And for the first time in the past couple of weeks, I didn’t mind.

Space—a word that people do not generally associate with Asians. But as a friend once said, and only half-jokingly, “Those who generalize, generally lies.” How true! Because in my case, space is so important. If I could get a restraining order out and keep people at about an arm’s length away, I would…generally.

Now that I am back to dormitory living, space is fast becoming a rare and, therefore, precious commodity. When I was shown to my room a couple of weeks ago, I felt relief wash over me just realizing that I don’t need to share my room with somebody else. But the relief was short-lived since a closed door does not seem to guarantee unlimited enjoyment of private space.

Well, wholly my fault, too if you think of it. My extroverted nature started making friends to the detriment of my introverted side. And so like Smeagol and Gollum, the battle rages, and the points actually go to the extroverted side. You see, I cannot ignore a knock on my door, even though I should actually bury myself under a pile of books stacked up beneath my desk.

But as I hugged a sobbing friend, I realize that part of what makes one human is the need for comfort from community and a sense of belonging—which I would not find if I choose to simply stay within the space. You cannot hug yourself properly, nor can you cry on your own shoulder.

It’s reassuring to know that one day when I myself will need a hug, I will get one.

So you see, Simon and Garfunkel, I can't be a rock, nor a mountain.

Walking Around Windsor

2007-09-27T17:33:00.000+08:00

Just thought to share with you my Windsor walk three weeks ago (was that only three weeks ago?!)

To Keep Me From Getting Homesick...

2007-09-25T05:14:00.000+08:00

Aleks told me about this wonderfully indigenized version of "Troy" but never got around to watch it, until I got hit by the homesick bug in the middle of my reading assignments. So this got me snickering in my room, discreetly, though, as the Brits would. Enjoy!

Promises to Keep

2007-09-20T22:07:00.000+08:00

There’s a nice apple tree outside my window. Everytime I look out to it, the word “temptation” comes to mind--and how I need to resist it.

The temptation to...

Go out and enjoy the remaining days of summer sunshine – or be holed up in my room starting my reading assignments.

Go out and have a cup of coffee at the dorm lounge with new friends – or go and check out reference books in the library.

Go out and watch a movie at the TV room – or do some research on the net for assignments.

Go out and learn how to play “cricket” with my dormates – or settle down and write a paper on this controversial topic called “postcolonialism.”

…and I am gently reminded by Robert Frost:

“The woods are lovely, dark and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.”

The Extravagance of God

2007-09-18T04:48:00.000+08:00

*written on Sept 10.

“God cannot do things that are not extravagant.”

The preacher said on my first Sunday service here in England. How apt. How true. I’ve been here for 5 days and still I find myself incredulous that I’ve managed to get here. Many months back when I started the whole process, I was less than positive that I would make it—there were too many hurdles and hoops. But the whole process went amazingly smooth that I could not help but think that this must really be something that God wants me to get into.

Of course, I have yet to get myself to campus and face whatever academic hurdles there is--but the past 6 days have shown me so many glimpses of God’s extravagant grace.

He’s provided me with generous colleagues who have opened their home to me for a week’s stay. This didn’t just mean a roof over my head but food and hospitality!

He’s provided me with the best sleep I have ever had in ages—I’ve had a full 8 hours of sleep and at British time as well…funnily enough, no jet lag. I just slept when the sun went down and got up when it rose. Well, it didn’t hurt that I had an unbelievably cuddly duvet!

He’s provided me with fabulous food—and yes, I can honestly say that the English meals I’ve had have been good and they were as English as it could get: Toad in the Hole (not what you think it is), Scotch Eggs, Tea and Cream, Scones. Unfortunately no Fish & Chips as of yet (I wonder what they’ll think if I dip them with catsup instead of vinegar…)

He’s provided me with great sunny and comfortably cool weather, so I could take walks and enjoy the neigborhood I’m in (it’s obviously a fancy—or as the Brits would say—posh neighborhood, what with houses having names instead of ordinary numbers with the street name attached to it—like No. 10 Downing Street…)

He’s gotten my generous hosts to bring me to some sightseeing at Windsor…and with the Union Jack flying high on one of the Castle’s tower, the queen was even in residence! I never got to visit the Queen or chase the little mice under her chair (ugh) but just going around the outside grounds, watching a Society wedding from the outside of the Guild House where Prince Charles and Camilla exchanged vows, and having tea and cream in the Windsor church that the Queen frequents, taking a walk along the River Thames…how could I complain?

He’s given me the best Sunday I’ve had. After a stirring sermon, I was able to enjoy a scrumptious potato and beef stew lunch with my hosts’ family friends in their farm, then go off for apple picking and “brambling” that is picking blackberries in their orchard. Perfection was ending this whole fun day with tea and scones.

All I expected was a place to adjust my body clock and maybe some introduction to British culture but God have me The Works---and how extravagantly! I wonder sometimes why He bothers, but He does and I am thankful.

My Humble Conclusion

2007-09-07T17:08:00.000+08:00

I have concluded, from my very limited (read: next to nil) experience, that the best time to arrive in London is at noon—when the immigration officers have just had their lunchbreak (and therefore too sleepy to bother with incoming travelers like moi) or going into lunchbreak (therefore too hungry to bother with incoming travelers like moi)!

I just figured that must be one of the reasons why I breezed through the whole process of coming into merry old England. The biggest problem I had was not being able to produce my letter of invitation from the college. “You should have brought it with you,” said Mr. Immigration Officer, looking at me sternly. “I’m sorry, but I gave it to your Embassy already when I had to submit all my requirements to get my student visa.” I said, widening my chinky eyes ever so innocently (a feat). Which to me means, “Hello, don’t you have records?! It’s YOUR government who gave me a student visa…”

Anyway, I somehow had the last say. He then kindly directed me to the Health officer. I got there and the lady in the counter asked me for results from a recent chest x-ray. “Huh?!” Nobody ever told me that! No, don’t worry, I wasn’t too cheeky this time. I just said, “I didn’t bring them with me, but I’ve had a chest x-ray and I did have my medicals done when I applied to the college.” She goes back into the office, called somebody and spent a few minutes chitchatting, I guess, about me. She comes out and says, “Well, the radiologist says you don’t need to have another x-ray since you got it done back in your country…so, could you have somebody send it over?” I said yes and that was it, I was sent off my merry way with the needed stamp on the back of my travel card. I went back to another immigration counter, handed the card to a nice lady staff. “Oh, lovely!” she says with a smile as she handed me my passport. I never had a more pleasant experience going through any immigration (even our own). I guess these guys just had lunch.

After collecting my luggage (and yes, Barbie Bag came along for the trip) I went to the sign that says 'NOTHIN TO DECLARE' and wondered if I would get into trouble with my instant Lucky Mee Pancit Canton…only to stroll through because there was no one around to man the counters. I guess they were on lunchbreak! Everything took less than an hour.

So I offer you my humble conclusion: that the best time to arrive is noon (and maybe this works in any airport in any country!)

Half and Half

2007-09-04T19:18:00.000+08:00

**posted at the old NAIA, which, to my delight, has a weak wifi signal.:-)

That is what I would have to reply when people ask me whether I am excited to leave for the UK. Half of me just went through a 2006 issue of Trafalgar Travel Book and got really excited about the places I will be able to visit while there, and the other half wishes I could stay on in Manila to do some more work.

The thing is, a lot of good things have been happening in work and it seems a pity to leave them. I am actually leaving them to able hands but still…

It’s the control freak in me who wants to always be around to set things up and work things out—but God reminded me, “You know what, the world actually continues to spin on its axis quite without incident while you sleep!”

Oh yeah, Lord, thanks for reminding me You’re in charge of my work since it is after all Your work.

So I take a step of faith—both ways—away from the work that I love, and into a new and unknown future.

Now I am 100% excited.

Cheerio, and may you also experience how it is to leave things to the Boss!

PASTILAN!!!!

2007-09-03T09:00:00.000+08:00

When I get very frustrated, I lapse into Cebuano…and this is the only word that can do justice to how I feel since yesterday afternoon!

I had mini-despedida merienda with a good friend and she, out of the blue, suddenly asked the “so-called” seasoned traveler, moi, “So you leave September 5 midnight? You do know that you have to be at the airport September 4 early evening, right?” Well, you would, of course, expect me to say, “Duh!! Of course, I know that!” I would expect me to say that---instead of the stunned silence and the hanging jaw.

No, Sireee, it didn’t occur to me! And for this silly oversight, I would have missed--err--nice airplane food! (?)

I could really knock myself on the head on this—especially as this is not exactly the first time I had my dates worked out wrongly. (Confession: I came late for my Davao-Manila flight last year—one day late, because I got my dates mixed up.) I also get my times wrong (I am not good with military time—why do they have to say 1300hrs when they mean 1pm?! Okey, please don’t bother to comment on this, I know why but I just don’t want it that way for myself.)

My friends, who know I have been getting schedules and dates mixed up (like expecting to go out with some friends on June 3 and then finding out later that I actually told them June 30.) , aside from being accused of dyslexia (can’t read time and tell my left from my right), are also now accusing me of on-set Alzheimers!

Anyway, all’s well that ends well—but wait, I haven’t exactly boarded the plane yet, so who’s to know if I get something else mixed up again??

Pastilan!

THINGS

2007-08-29T13:26:00.001+08:00

As I sat on my bed, still recovering from a short trip, and surveyed the things strewn around me, trying to put away stuff from my recent trip, trying to sort out what to bring to the UK, what to put away and what to give away. I am overwhelmed.

Things. A vague word we use to refer to what we cannot or are too lazy to give specific labels to. Yet, what a meaningful, burdensome word.

Shoes.
Clothes.
CDs.
VCDs.
Photos.
Letters.
Toiletries.
Bags.
Magazines.
Books.
Knick knacks from travels.
A collection of rupiah, ringgit, Singapore Dollars, Thai Baht.
Gifts hardly used: coffee mugs, trinkets, wallets, souvenier items, T-shirts, and more coffee mugs.

Pile them all together and they’d be a Mount Everest of things. Imagine if I were married, the pile could probably fill the whole stretch of China’s Great Wall…shudder.

I would like to think that there are worse ratpackers than me, but just looking at my collection of things—many of which are hardly used but never disposed of—I wonder.

Why is it so much easier to accumulate than to throw away things? Why can’t I throw away my old Kathmandu T-shirt which has been mothballed to one side of the closet for the past 6 years? Why can’t I give up a pair of well-worn (during its heydays) sandals that has not seen the light of day for two years? Why can’t I just give up a lot of these stuff.

Beats me!

There is a saying that goes, “The one who dies with the most toys, wins. Wins what, I wonder? Anyway, what does one do with all these toys if one is six feet under? Somehow, these “toys” or things hardly make me feel like a winner---more like a “drowner.”

Sigh.

Ironically, I just found out that my airline has graciously granted me extra 10kg luggage allowance…to make room for more “things” to bring to the UK. Now my feelings are mixed.

Talking to Myself

2007-08-22T13:25:00.000+08:00

On the eve of an overseas trip:

Me: (taking a deep breath) Okey..I’m using Barbie bag tomorrow…

The Other Me (TOM): What’s that deep breath for? It’s just a bag!

Me: ..but it’s pink..*sigh*

TOM: So what? The important thing is for you to use it a few times, sort of like a test drive, before you bring it to the UK.

Me:…but I’m worried what people will say…it’s just sooo not me.

TOM: My goodness! Just because you got free media mileage from Snglguy’s blog post yesterday doesn’t make you famous enough for people to take notice! What an ego you have…

Me: But I’m worried about my colleagues when we meet up tomorrow night at the airport, I am sure they’ll laugh at me!

TOM: You don’t only have an over-active imagination but you’ve also got an overblown sense of self-importance…the thing is, who cares?!

Me: I can already see them snickering away—maybe I should just use the green one.

TOM: No, you are suppose to use this one and see if it works okey, besides you are only away for a week, you don’t need a bigger bag.

Me: Yiiiii-ikes…I can see myself and Barbie bag glowing beside me…

TOM: You know what, there are more important things to think about…like making sure you’ll bring your passport, your ticket, your money…

Me: Oh yeah, I’ve got that covered…sigh…it’s pink…

TOM: (frustrated sigh) Hello, will somebody out there give this girl the “Silliest Blogger Award?”

I Don't Mind...Really!

2007-08-20T15:29:00.000+08:00

The fervently prayed-for rain has come and everyone cheers—of course! Since the lack of rain has been a real issue these past months, the rainy days has been a welcomed inconvenience for many of us commuters….yes, really, a welcomed inconvenience!

I don’t mind, really, that I get splashed by muddy water by passing cars, tricycles, buses and motorcycles…

I don’t mind, really, that the rain has made commuters sitting ducks to taxi drivers morphed into opportunistic sharks (hmmm….come to think of it, when aren’t they sharks?).

I don’t mind, really, that this means getting your shoes and pant legs all soaked because of the floods or water that has pooled up in our uneven sidewalks.

I don’t mind, really, that this means double the traffic especially along Cubao where, if you’re a commuter on a bus, you have no right to use the express underpass (only those who can afford cars or taxis have the right not to be late for their work or appointments, it seems).

I don’t mind, really, that you have to think three to a hundred times whether to make/keep appointments that would mean getting out of your house (where you stay warm and dry).

I don’t mind, really, that it means having to share an MRT ride with others who are all sweaty under their rained-soaked jackets.

..really! I don’t mind!

Five Over Three

2007-08-15T20:48:00.000+08:00

That is, five goodbyes in over three days. Two of them are to people I am not sure I will ever see again. For the rest, if things go as planned, I will see them again in a year’s time. But then again, who’s to know in this unpredictable planet we live in?

It can be a trying practice, this goodbye business. No amount of farewells, hugs, despedida meals or goodbye gifts can take that pang away.

But, as I always try to tell myself, life goes on—everyone moves on. It would be unnatural to hang on to someone and refuse to move from a certain spot in your life unless that person moves with you. Now, that kind of messy goodbye, I can do without, thank you!

We all have our journeys to walk, and along the way we bump into people, we get helped—or lend a helping hand. And when that patch in life has passed, we go our different ways. Sometimes we meet again somewhere in the future, sometimes we don’t. Sometimes we keep in touch, or try to, other times we can’t--or don’t want to anymore.

Some people will be sorely missed as we go ahead with our journeys, others will become pleasant memories, still others will be forgotten. In some ways, forgetfulness can be a real gift—when the pain of separation, through the help of forgetfulness, will fade into hazy but good remembrances.

We then can go on with life, embracing new friends, not keeping them at arm’s length—knowing that friendship is worth risking the pain that goodbyes, which eventually comes, bring about.

Just as I thought, life is a bed of roses—you have to lay down on both the petals and the thorns.

Crying for Jack

2007-08-13T09:24:00.000+08:00

*written a couple of weeks ago.
**WARNING: If you have not seen the last episode of 24’s Season 6, there is a bit of a spoiler here... but only a little bit, I promise you!

I haven’t cried for such a long time. But Jack Bauer had me sobbing away. Since he can do almost anything humanly possible, that shouldn’t surprise me, I guess. Just watching him fight to get his own life back for a change, at the last episode of 24, made me root for him all the more.

“Way to go, Jack!”

“About time, Jack!”

Season 6 ended with everyone in the United States of America getting their lives back after a series of terrorist attacks, with CTU staff, the president, the vice president and the rest of the gang, including the pregnant Chloe getting their much needed sleep after a stress-filled 24 hours.

Everyone but Jack.

Yeah, I know, I sound like a starry-eyed fanatic who can't tell my fact from my fiction. But just thinking of Jack Bauer made me realize how even in fiction, our heroes are all too human.

Whoever our heroes may be, like Jack Bauer, when they say “I promise you” they will not always be able to deliver, even if they promised with all their hearts and tried their very best. They will fail us somehow, sometime. Once you’ve walked with them and witnessed their own angst and struggles, you will root for them, cry with them and pray for them—but you will know for sure that they cannot always be there for you. Because they are just as human as we are.

Whatever the case may be, we hope to see you again soon, Jack!

Rocking Away!

2007-08-08T20:21:00.000+08:00

After a scholarship, after a one-year visa, what would be the icing on the cake?

How about an award?

Imagine that, I was given another award from that girl who rocks, Ipanema! Oh wow, to be awarded twice is such a privilege--especially from someone I look up to as a really rockin' blogger herself!

So now, I need to pass the blessing again--and this is one other reason why I am so happy I got this award, I can pass it to those I would have also wanted to award the other time...

So here's the list of rockin' girls I am delighted to pass this award to:

Jenny! She writes well, she takes great photos and she speaks French! Trés cool, don't you think?

Toe! Which should not come as a surprise to many of us who are so much entertained by her posts...and the fact that she is making a difference in Cambodia, that rocks, too!

Chesca! She is a great gal who has a great family and loves to share her diving adventures with us. The fact that we both used to work in this unique place in Bataan makes her special to me, too!

Jojie A! Because not only takes great photos but she is an eagle-eye when it comes to those really funny ones that make my day! Plus she was my classmate in my college days--where we first discovered we have the same warped sense of humor--that keeps us both afloat through the rough times. Right, girl?

ZJ! Another lady who is making a difference in Cambodia! I am sure the Khmer people are know that they are blessed with your contribution there. You rock, girl!

And, Ipanema, you know, I will also have to give this award to you, too! I know I may not be following the rules, but hey, I rock (as you say) so I have the license to break some of 'em rules, don't I?

Happily Tired

2007-08-03T23:35:00.001+08:00

Ever been tired and happy at the same time? That is how I feel today. I just got back from an overnight trip out of town and had one meeting after another today—after a couple of hour’s trip back to town. The last meeting just wrapped up a couple of minutes ago.

But even with the tiredness, it’s nice to know that many things got done and that you can go to sleep happy, even though you know that there are still about a week of "meeting marathon" (one more long-distance travel included).

Two factors that make my work meaningful and fun are the fact that I believe that what I do and where I am in what I do is my “place in the sun,” so to speak—my niche—and the other factor is that I am with colleagues (though only here for a short visit) who are so easy to work with and who share the same vision and passion I have with what I do. It does help that we’re able to “click” in such a short time (two days!), so much so that we can swap jokes and laugh at each other’s bloopers and antics without fear of being misunderstood.

If only everyday were like this, then there is nothing else I can ask God for …well, almost nothing!

Okey, better go and get ready for bed—another big day coming up tomorrow! And the next day…and the next…

Have a happy (even if you get tired) weekend!

Living with Our Choices

2007-07-31T13:17:00.000+08:00

A pink piece of luggage. Nobody who knows me would ever have imagined me buying such an item. But buy I did. I made the choice to buy it because it was the right size, the right quality, the right price. I chose it for these reasons---never mind that it was not the neon green piece I saw the week before (Alas! out of stock) but Barbie-pink.

So I endured the guffaws from a good friend who picked me up at the airport recently: “Wahahaha!!! Pink!” and my dear brother: “Eeow! What happened?!” I patiently, albeit defensively explained my choice (see above reasons).

But this doesn’t keep me from sighing everytime I look at it, innocently, quietly standing in the corner of my house…a silent reminder of my need to stand by the choices I make.

The worst that could happen is that I’d grow to like it, despite the fact that it is so against the very grain of my personality to go with pink-hued accessories of any sort. (No offense to pink-lovers, “It’s not you …it’s me…”)

The worst that could happen is the persecution I will have to endure from my friends (having already gotten initial, painful feedback, I think I can handle some more).

Whatever the case maybe, I will have to live with it.

Other choices that I may have to live with it in the future might not be as easy this.

In some sense, I thank God for this pink “thing,” at least I am reminded to be careful with my choices in the future, on more serious matters.

….like, maybe, dying my hair pink…!

Don't Know Any Better

2007-07-27T10:14:00.000+08:00

“What should I do?”
“What must be done?”
“Why won’t she listen?”

He is frustrated.
She is in pain.
They are confused.

“It’ll be okey.”
“Do this.”
“Do that.”

I suggest.
I counsel.
I comfort.
Or try to.

Inside me, I sigh.

“Don’t ask me!”
“I don’t know.”
“I can’t help you.”

I don’t know any better!
I don’t DO any better.

They ask me this.
They ask me that.

“Counsel me.”
“Hear me.”
“Help me.”

But I don’t know how!
Can’t even follow my own advice.

I'm as weak as you.
As helpless as you.
Make mistakes like you.
Stumble like you.
Whimper like you.

I don’t know any better.

...and sometimes, I don’t want to come alongside.
...and sometimes, I just can’t come alongside.

I can’t.
I wish I can.
Will a hug do?

...and I need to fight my own battles.
...and you need to win your own wars.

Ask Him!
He can.
He wants to.
And He will.

After all, He did say,
"Come to me , all of you who are weary and burdened,
and I will give you rest." Matthew 11:28.

Who Knows?

2007-07-22T16:31:00.000+08:00

It’s Sunday and I am enjoying my last few hours in this temporary haven in Baguio. The only sound I hear are the soft whirring of CK’s fan and my fingers dancing on the keyboard—otherwise, it’s pure, unadulterated silence.

My workshop finished at 9 pm yesterday and with the SONA tomorrow blocking my way to the office in QC, what’s the point of rushing down to Manila today? So I decided to just stay here for one more day, chill (literally) and enjoy the fog-enveloped view from my window.

Who knows, I might catch another technicolor sunset like the one I caught on camera the other day! Who knows if I would get to enjoy such a rare awesome treat again?

Then again, who knows if I will ever come back again to this nice haven in Baguio?

Who knows if this nice haven will still be around a year from now when I come home? Who knows if I would ever be able to enjoy this unadulterated peace and quiet again?

Who knows what life will throw at me tomorrow?

For now, I am A-OK and life is good. Cheers!

15 Weird Facts and Feats

2007-07-19T21:49:00.000+08:00

Since Wil, as payback, tagged me to list down 15 weird facts about myself, I have been mentally working on the list on and off for the past couple of weeks. I thought myself to be quite normal since I found it difficult to come up with a list of 15 weird facts. Hmm…should I just say I bite my nails 15 times a day? Would that qualify for all 15?

“Oh, wow,” I thought at first, “I must normal!” Until I am reminded of certain facts like…

I can only sleep well if I sleep on my stomach, and with my arm around a baby pillow.
I graduated 13^th honor after 10 years of Chinese language classes…and am still only semi-literate in Mandarin (I fooled my teachers! BWAHAHAHA!!).
I can put on my contact lenses in under 15 seconds--without the aid of a mirror!
After a traumatic first-time experience of baby sitting, it took me many years to get over my fear of children…and I have rarely babysat since--even with my own nieces!
I am embarrassingly slow at telling time with analog watches…thus all my wristwatches have been (and always will be) digital.
I have difficulty figuring out the “open” and “close” symbols in elevators…I am sorry to the many I have victimized because of this…err…lapse.
If I do not get to eat McSpaghetti or McDonald’s Longganisa Rice within a couple of weeks, I don’t feel well.
I have an earthy, politically incorrect sense of humor that gets me snickering at the oddest, most inappropriate occasions.
From childhood until now, I have moved house 24 times—and even then, I am no expert. I still lose something after every move ( a pair of shoes, a belt, a blouse, a pair of earrings, and lately, a pair of sandals, and, soon, quite possibly, my head.)
I have seen “While You Were Sleeping” so many times I have memorized the script.
I consider “The Simpsons” a serious comedy that accurately portrays/ parodies a certain segment of American society. I feel the same way about “Third Rock from the Sun” which parodies modern society and human behavior.
I am proud of the gap between my two front teeth—it gives me “character” and puts me in the same league as Madonna and Lauren Hutton. So I can’t understand why my dentists are obsessing about closing it up or getting me braced!
And speaking of dentists, I love to go for prophylaxis so much that she has to shoo me away and tell me to come back after 3 months.
And speaking of dentists, I am proud to say I have very high pain threshold. The dentists don’t need to give me anesthesia when I go for major tooth filling projects.
And speaking of prophylaxis, I meet regularly with a friend who is a trained counselor, over a cup of coffee. We vent, do small talk, a bit of soul searching and self-examination. She gives me what I would like to call my psychological prophylaxis—just so I know my neurosis is still within socially acceptable levels. (And I guess the fact that I do this would already tell you I am certifiably weird!)

Fear not! I won't be tagging people--but anyone who wants to re-evaluate their WQ (weirdness quotient), feel free!

Like IV Drip to A Patient

2007-07-16T12:36:00.000+08:00

Like IV drip to a hospital patient.

Like Diet Coke to a model.

Like face lift to an aging movie star.

Like Starbucks to yuppies.

That is what internet connection is to me, I’m afraid. I came up to Baguio yesterday, two days early for a seminar hoping to catch some R & R before work takes over. I was planning for some peace and quite in a haven tucked somewhere in the hills of Baguio. It’s stillness, I thought, would be such an ideal place for me to rest, reflect and be silent.

Sounds like a great plan!

Until I found out the phone lines were down. *gasp!*

Then I realized that I was only enamoured with the idea of quiet rest and reflection. In the end, this is still pathetically conditional to the presence of internet accessibility.

And so after a moment of reflection this morning, I went off to Session Road, logging my hulk of a boyfriend CK, in search for that IV drip called FREE WI FI ACCESS. The sign on the window outside Zola Café was the sole reason I wandered in.

Not so much the fact that they were playing Pop Goes my Heart when I came in.

Not so much that they actually have tomato catsup which I need to go with my tocilog breakfast.

Not so much for the efficient and friendly service.

If the place were a dump and the service bad, I would still be a happy camper as long as there is free wifi…and as long as they don’t throw me out even if I have hogged this table for the past couple of hours!

Ain’t I easy to please?!

Advices, Advices...

2007-07-13T17:44:00.000+08:00

It is great to have so many friends. It’s great to have different people to turn to for different sort of things, like on travel, movies, foodtrips, and pity parties. But one thing all friends seem to have in common is the giving of advice!

Advices on keeping healthy…

Advices on primping yourself…

Advices on the cure for a bad cough….

There are certain peak seasons when advices fly all over the place—like now, when I am preparing to leave.

The most common advices are:

Bring warm socks.
Buy warm clothes there.
Make sure to go to Paris.
Make sure to visit Ireland.
Make sure to visit the Queen.
Try hard to find yourself a husband! *sigh*

Guess what.

Nobody adviced me to study hard.

Hmmm….

Perfect Timing

2007-07-09T17:34:00.000+08:00

As I’ve said once before…waiting has never been my strength. But once again, God has proven that:

“Since ancient times no one has heard,
no ear has perceived,
no eye has seen any God besides you,
who acts on behalf of those who wait for him.”(Isaiah 64:4)

Yep, you guessed it. My UK student visa has arrived! Just this morning—after much waiting…and what a wait!

I had resolved not to worry but that didn’t mean that the worry wart in me wouldn't rare its ugly head. In those times, I would keep reminding myself that God is in control and He will see this through for me…no matter what the circumstances may seem to suggest.

It took nearly two months before my visa arrived. Those who've gone for studies in the UK have remarked that it seemed like an unusually long time of processing.

Had I not begged off from a meeting in Singapore that was scheduled last week, I would’ve wasted our organization’s money and cancelled the trip since my passport was still at the embassy.

Had my documents arrive last week, while I was in Davao, I wouldn’t have been able to get my hands on it since they would not have handed it over to simply anyone else.

Had I not get the call early this morning for instructions on how to get to our office (a bit complicated, what with the road widening project of the MMDA), the courier would've gotten lost along the way…and I might have to get my visa myself!

Oh well, all’s well that ends well…but wait! This is just the beginning!

So cheerio, mates, I have to go and look for the cheapest way to fly to London!

When I Was 18...

2007-07-02T15:12:00.000+08:00

I was tagged by Niceheart on listing my favorite songs when I was 18. I thought, “Wow, I will have to reach some light years back for that!” Thankfully, I realized that I didn’t exactly have to do that since many of the songs are still on the airwaves, if not revived!

Ahh..the 80’s! How do I love thee?

I love thee for letting Rick Springfield wisely advise us, “Don’t Talk to Strangers.”

I love thee for Michael Jackson (when he wore his true colors and still had a nose).

I love thee for Gary V. who sang and danced his way to our hearts (up to now!)

I love thee for the Bagets gang through whom we vicariously lived out our adolescent follies.

I love thee for Tears for Fears who told us its okey to “Shout” and let it all out.

I love thee for Billy Joel who made Honesty cool.

I love thee for the fantastic duo Eurythmics announcing “Here Comes the Rain Again.”

I love thee for the dazzling Miss Piggy, those two funny cantakerous old critics and her consort in “The Muppet Show.”

I love thee for the swashbuckling adventures with Dr. Indiana Jones.

..and many more.

Though I would not be requesting the comeback of big hair, shoulder pads and baggy trousers…!

Anyway, here’s a list of the hits I loved when I turned 18…I wont be able to give detailed reasons why I like them, I just do—and mostly for the music rather than the lyrics—I seldom analyze lyrics, especially since half the time, I can hardly really figure out what they’re singing! Anyway, here goes:

Take My Breath Away – Berlin

True Colors -Cyndi Lauper

Broken Wings – Mr. Mister

Rock Me Amadeus – Falco

These Dreams –Heart

Walk of Life-Dire Straits

True Blue-Madonna

Meanwhile, let me share with you this MTV of Hugh Grant from Music and Lyrics—it just gets me all giggly about the crazy 80’s and nostalgic at the same time, sorry I have no idea how to upload a video so just click on this!!

Award! Awards! (Bow)

2007-06-27T12:59:00.000+08:00

For the first time since grade school (where I won an award at a poster-making contest), I won an award, courtesy of Ipanema, Thinking Blogger par excellence (almost hall-of-famer). She has graciously bestowed me with the

(your obligatory applause please....ahem)

I’ve been told by friends that I think a lot—and they do not mean it in a positive way (read: over-analysis of everything). So its nice for someone to look at my thinking in a positive light. I guess that is what blogging does to people who would otherwise need P500 per hour sessions with shrinks!

So I’m supposed to award 5 bloggers with this same award. Honestly, not an easy task since each one of those in my blogroll are great thinkers and have triggered me to think further about a variety of issues—ranging from the serious (world issues, social issues, etc.) to the not-so-serious but important (shopping tips, standards for mr. right, etc.).

But anyway, here goes!

Beng (When I need to calm down and think happy thoughts, I visit her!)

Verns (Yes, dear, you get me thinking funny and weird thoughts!)

Single Guy (I vicariously “vent” through you!)

AnnaManila (Who couldn’t learn from one who has so much to offer at this point in her life?)

Kathy (Mother/Filipina Scientist in Japan—need I say more?)

I wish it was a list of 10!

Anyway, over to the 4 ladies and one single guy to pass on awards to five of their own choices!!

Insanity

2007-06-26T12:56:00.001+08:00

Albert Einstein once defined insanity as doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results.

Quite a number of organizations have actually adopted this as a corporate mantra. Some days I feel like I am in one...other days, I think we're only slightly neurotic (whew!). It all depends on the level of insanity thrown at me in meetings and the issues I hear.

There are times when I just want to throw in the towel and join another organization. But I've since realized that each organization has its own level of insanity. So why not stick to insanities that I'm used to and can do something about? Who knows, I might be able to contribute equally insane alternatives that just might help move the cart along? Like maybe triangular wheels?

Now to stop pushing and start fixing those wheels…

Better than Oprah!

2007-06-15T17:28:00.000+08:00

Finally! After a week of letting these questions brew in my so-called brain, I have come up with satisfying (I think) answers. All I can say is, the following interviewers are better than Oprah because they let me speak my mind without interruptions of “Yes, that happened to me, too! blah blah blah..” as Oprah would’ve done. Not that you have a choice in this medium!

Annamanila asks:

1.You seemed to have said goodbye a lot. Describe a goodbye scene where you figured, (and doesn’t include moms, and the like) you find most memorable.

Wow, first question and you already pack quite a punch. Saying goodbye so frequently has somehow made it almost a perfunctory exercise for me…maybe unconsciously, this is for the sake of self-preservation. Ironically, the most memorable goodbye for me is when I said goodbye to my dad many years ago when I was leaving for a three year study in Singapore. It was going to be three straight years in Singapore as I didn’t plan to come home for vacations because of financial constraints. I go, “Pa, I’m leaving for the airport!” Pa peers at me over his reading glasses and grunted, “U-huh.” And goes back to his newspaper. Three years later, I come home and what do you know, I go over to my dad and go, “Pa, I’m back!” And he said, you guessed it, “U-huh.”

2. When the gypsy has settled down, stayed put, how does she plan to change her site to square with her more stable status?

I would want to settle somewhere in Davao where many of my friends. Hopefully a wee house just right for one person in a place not too urban (I would need a slower pace of life) and yet not to rural (I still need my internet access!!). I would probably do some writing and lots of reading and some entertaining (brewing coffee and cooking curry for friends!). I would still do some traveling of course, to satisfy my itchy feet. How on earth this becomes a reality, I have no idea..but it’s nice to dream!

3. Are arranged marriages no longer prevalent among lannangs (did i spell that right) in the Philippines? Has there been an attempt to arrange one for you? What is your take about this practice?

I have no idea if arranged marriages are still prevalent here! But I know "Kai Siaw" (where you are introduced to a potential spouse) is still a practice. Nobody has dared to attempt an arranged marriage on me—it would be waste of their time and resource…however, some have attempted introducing potentials to me—which ended up nowhere. This has been a “fruitful” practice for some but not for me, obviously…maybe I am too fixed in my ways and to mixed up to ever find somebody who is a good match!

4. You meet TK (sigh...) out of the blue and he tells you he is free to talk for 10 minutes with only you. What will you tell him? The he asks you for an instant souvenir from you. What will it be?

Oh, wow, may your wish for me come true!! I would probably display my scintillating personality to him (Har-Har Har) and bowl him over in 10 minutes…so much so that he would NOT be asking for an instant souvenir but would rather whisk me away to the altar! How’s that for a delusion!

5. How can you tell if you haven't had (enough) coffee?

Unlike the impression I tend to give to people, I’m not really a coffee addict—I just sometimes feel the need for a caffeine hit first thing in the morning. But if I can’t—it’s no skin off my nose (as some would say.)

Abaniko asks:

1. A month-long luxurious tour in Europe for you---all expenses paid. But right after the tour,you'll be jobless for 5 consecutive years. Deal?

Hmm….does jobless mean no pay? Then if that’s the case, then no deal..I think I would not trade a month-long luxurious tour of Europe if it means being without pay and without a sense of accomplishment—I am not very good and twiddling my fingers. I need something to do! Now if you switched the situation around and say, a 5 year luxurious tour and then jobless for a month—that’s another matter!

2. Which movie character do you strongly identify yourself with? Why?

Eowyn of Rohan. I loved her character as a loyal niece to King Theoden and remaining strong through the difficult times when the king’s mental/spiritual illness. I also loved her courage to go out and fight evil—and through all these she didn’t have to put aside her being a woman.

3. If there's a law in the blogosphere that limits your blogroll to only 3 blogs, which blogs would remain (exclude mine. You don't need to be nice. Hehe)?

Then I thank the Lord to high heavens there is no such law! Imagine if God would put as law that we can only have three friends in this whole wide weary world? Tsk, tsk.

4. Why do you love spicy food?
Because that extra kick livens up the dish! It’s also representative of how I prefer life to be. (Ahem).

5. Choose: a smart and caring husband who is a foot tall or an ugly and dumb husband who is of your height?

Hey, this is a no-brainer!! Of course I would choose the former one—since I am already short, I need someone to help me reach stuff that’s unreachable to me and navigate directions in a crowd. So it is primarily for practical reasons I choose the former one. *wink*

Verns asks:

1. If you are to make a music video of your life, what song will you use and what will be the theme?

I fell in love with Hawaiian singer IZ’s version of Somewhere Over the Rainbow/ What a Wonderful World. I love his use of the ukulele for its background. It’s sweet and melancholic and makes you think of the good things in life. For the theme, I think thatis it—the good things in life. There’s just too much problems that we are forced to dwell on aready so it’s good to insist on seeing life as half-full rather than half-empty.

2. Say you can change a movie's ending, what movie will it be and what will be your new ending?

The first movie that comes to mind is that really old Christopher Reeve-Jane Seymour movie “Somewhere in Time.” Even though I have seen it countless of times in the past, I still get all tragic whenever Chris Reeve reaches into his pocket and accidentally touches a coin from the future that would zap him back to the present and away from his true love’s arms. He tries to find his way back to the past but couldn’t and he eventually dies trying and see his lover in heaven. My ending would be that he does get back to the past and they live happily ever after—how simplistically happy is that!

3. Among the 4 main characters in the famous TV series Sex and the City, who's character is closest to your personality?

Hmm…I’m sorry but I’ve never really even seen a full episode of Sex and the City. But if it’s a movie character..see my answer to Abaniko’s second question! But who do YOU think comes closest to moi? I would like to know what YOU think, Verns. Hehe.

4. If you are a writer of a "what women want" book..what will be your top 10 on the list?

To be pursued.

To be wooed not only at the start but all through the relationship.

To spend quality time with girlfriends.

To be respected for our contribution to society, because of the contribution--not because we're “women.” (none of that affirmative action stuff).

To be allowed to enjoy pretty things without being misunderstood as shallow.

To be actively listened to (versus lending an obligatory ear).

To have solid platonic friendships with men without people speculating about the friendship.

To eat all the stuff we want without worrying about weight or health issues.

To look good without having to spend hours in front of the mirror!

To not have beauty measured according to appearance. (I guess this goes against the previous statement, but it's a woman's prerogative to change her mind, right?)

5. What is the best way to break up with a guy?

Gently but firmly. Hopefully you can still respect each other and keep the friendship without all the hang-ups.

================

Want to go through my brand of grand inquisition?!
Here are the rules:

1. Leave me a comment saying “Interview me.”
2. I will respond by emailing you five questions. I get to pick the questions.
3. You will update your blog with the answers to the questions.
4. You will include this explanation and an offer to interview someone
else in the same post.
5. When others comment asking to be interviewed, you will ask them
five questions.

My House Guest

2007-06-12T13:10:00.000+08:00

The first time I saw my tiny house guest was when I was coming out of the bathroom. The guest, probably thinking it was all alone, decided to flagrantly attack my trash can for left overs (too bad for him there is no such thing in my house!). Hearing the creaking sound of my bathroom door, it scuttled out of the trash can with amazing speed and hid behind the fridge. I only caught a glimpse of its small dark body but I could tell (with a chill running down my spine) that this was not of the 6-legged variety but was of the vermin family.

I soooo wish it was a cockroach. Some might think me crazy but I am a bona-fide, expert cockroach killer. Whether they’re flying or crawling, they are sitting ducks to my torpedo-slipper.

Now, a tiny mouse is totally another matter. I hate it with a passion but I'm also deathly afraid of it. The past two days saw us playing an uneasy game of hide-and-seek. Me sneaking around and looking right and left, afraid I might encounter it while crossing my kitchen…and, I’m sure, it is huddled in some dark corner, making sure not to make a sound and nervously chewing on its tail, scared of being caught.

Is there any other situation as stupid as this?!

Or maybe I should ask, “Who has more reason to be afraid?”

Me, who has every right to be in this house since I pay rent.
Me, who is gazillions times bigger than this vermin.
Me, who’s brain (and therefore IQ) is much more superior than this half-witted vermin who, after two days, hasn’t gotten the drift that there is NO FOOD in this house he can get his dirty paws on.
Mouse, who knows that house owner is a giant compared to him.
Mouse, who has no weapons to protect itself.
Mouse, who obviously has not contributed to the payment of rent or utilities.

If only common sense can cast out fear...

Household Remedies (Ahem)

2007-06-05T20:01:00.000+08:00

The following is not because I have become domesticated in any way, as you'll see, if you read carefully:

1. If you are choking on an ice cube, simply pour a cup of boiling water down your throat. Presto! The blockage will instantly remove itself.

2. Avoid cutting yourself slicing vegetables by getting someone else to hold while you chop.

3. Avoid arguments with the Mrs. about lifting the toilet seat by using the sink.

4. For high blood pressure sufferers: simply cut yourself and bleed for a few minutes, thus reducing the pressure in your veins. Remember to use a timer.

5. A mouse trap, placed on top of your alarm clock, will prevent you from rolling over and going back to sleep after you hit the snooze button.

6. If you have a bad cough, take a large dose of laxatives-- then you will be afraid to cough.

7. You only need two tools in life: WD-40 and duct tape. If it doesn't move and should, use the WD-40. If it shouldn't move and does, use the duct tape.

8. Remember: Everyone seems normal until you get to know them.

PS. I do not take credit for these clever tips (I wish I could!) Got this from a good friend who knows better than to try these at home!

Why I Blog

2007-06-01T13:39:00.000+08:00

Mon tagged me a while back and after much in-depth soul-searching and tapping on the subliminal part of my grey matter, I came up with these reasons…

Baring Private Thoughts Publicly.

As an extrovert, I feel better putting my thoughts out there and having people giving feedback on them rather than keeping a private journal and feel like I am talking to a wall. Of course there are still some things I would never dare blog about-especially as I have inadvertently spilled to certain friends I have a blog, thus making this blog less than anonymous…

The Bliss of Being in A Blog Community.

I enjoy being part of a blog community. This is an unexpected thing for me. When I started blogging, the only reason I had was the above one. I didn’t expect to become part of a fun, unique and caring community of people who not only share some of my thoughts and concerns, but enjoy (and share) my idiosyncrasies!

Dishing Out Corn

I get to “talk” about stuff I feel corny verbalizing. There are things that are better read than heard. Many times these “better-read-than-heard” thoughts and feelings bubble up inside me and I find the need to express them. The thing is, I find verbalizing some of them “corny.” Its easier for me to write them down for people to read, and as you read them in the safe cyber-distance, at least I can’t see the “this-is-so-corny” look on the readers' faces—and because my cyber community I am in has been a great accepting community, I know I am safe to share my corny thoughts without fear of persecution (or prosecution).

Serving Up A Bit of Blessing

Outside of myself, I hope that what I share can bless people. I want to share some of the corny stuff that might possibly stir somebody’s heart out there. To comfort where solace is needed, to inspire where inspiration is needed, to humor where laughs are needed. There’s too much grief around already, I find no need to contribute to it (except for the occasional rant I need to get out of my system) but if I can help in someway to provide some cheer, that is what I hope to do when I blog (this fourth entry also helps me sets parameters for myself—to commit me to keep a positive attitude and not allow the “Mr. Hyde” in me take over too much).

Polishing My Prose & Prepositions

To hone my writing. This is where I practice writing better since I really love putting words together—not just the art of it but also the skill of it. This is where I experiment with my vocabulary and prepositions, showcase my sometimes-sorry-attempts at picturesque prose and poetry (only one lonely entry on this one). And if I did get my tenses wrong and my prepositions mixed up, be gracious in “editing” me!!

Whew! I never thought I could come up with reasons. See? That’s why I love blogging, it forces me to use more of my so-called brain. So, thanks Mon, my bro, for tagging me on this (you should get your bebé to blog, I would love to hear her thoughts)!

TK's Take of Singapore

2007-05-25T12:49:00.000+08:00

The photos below are TK's trial run in Singapore--mostly of Botanic Gardens since I stayed somewhere in the area. The others are from The Esplanade, Orchard Road and the East Coast. It was a rainy, cloudy week when I was there, so no brilliant skies when these were taken! But anyway, here they are!! No more captioning...too complicated for a low-tech person like moi!

The Waiting Game

2007-05-21T09:05:00.000+08:00

3.5 hours. That was the total number of hours I spent staring at nothing, simply waiting for the three different counters at the UK Visa Application Centre (UKVACS) to decide if I submitted all the requirements needed and if there were any other gaps I needed to fill. I couldn't even fiddle with my cellphone since every person who comes in has to surrender their handbag and extra stuff to the guard at the entrance.

By the second hour, I could feel a pounding headache coming...probably because I came in with an empty stomach. I stupidly assumed that the whole submission business (since it was just submitting papers) would take at most an hour and a half, so I opted to skip breakfast and have a good brunch when I get out of the UKVACS office. At 1:30 in the afternoon, I came out with my head full of pounding hammers and a stomach empty of anything except probably for acid hissing for something to burn.

Whether I came in well-armed for the waiting game or not, I suspect I would still be ticked off when I was done.

You see, like most (all?) people, waiting is not exactly my favorite hobby. I have done my share of waiting…whether it is for a delayed flight to take off, for a friend to show up for an appointment, for results from whatever tests, for decisions to be made by higher-ups, for problems to be resolved, for prayers to be answered…ad naseum.

There are certain things/situations when I find waiting senseless—and other times when I find waiting worth it. Whatever the case, one thing is for certain: the reason we have to play the waiting game is because much of life is beyond our control.

I once stumbled on a verse in the Bible that says, “Hope deferred makes the heart sick." (Proverbs 13:12). How true! How true!

The wait is especially unbearable if it is something that you have pinned your hopes on. And the letdown that sometimes come after a long wait (with baited breath) can be shattering.

Another time, I saw a signboard at the front of a cinema-turned-church building that announced the pastor’s message for that Sunday and it said, “Delayed by Design.” That time I saw the sign, I was actually waiting for something and somehow the sign was comforting. It tells me that though I was not in control, Somebody far wiser, way more powerful was. He knows what is best and He knows when is best.

I realize how true this is since I found out that because I couldn’t submit my applications earlier (before May), I found out that the agency (UKVACS) that handles the visa submission has waived its processing fee starting May. Then after submission, I went to check my visa status on line through a reference number, and found out that by end of May, the visa processing will change again and become more complicated. I submitted my application at just the right time!

As I wait for the results of my visa application. I keep the above truth in my heart: God, who knows best, delays by design.

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My dear Wordpress friends, I don't seem to be able to get my comments uploaded in your blogs!! Mon suggests to ask you to de-spam my comments (if that's the problem.) Thanks, Mon for the tip!!

Musing on Maslow

2007-05-15T12:44:00.000+08:00

Two weeks ago, over a tasty dinner of garlic prawn and asparagus spears, I listened to my Singaporean friend talk about her dissatisfaction with Singaporean society. She didn’t have any qualms about leaving Singapore and planting her roots elsewhere. Her main gripe was that government policies, in the hope of creating an almost-perfect society, have, on the downside, stemmed innovation and creativity—producing instead a nation of employees. “That wily old man,” as she calls the Senior Minister Lee Kuan Yew, “didn’t even show a hint of regret when he was accused of being too much of a dictator!”

The problem was, I had the hardest time sympathizing with her. As a Filipino living in Manila and having to endure, day in and day out, the obvious traces of corruption and poverty everywhere—from potholed streets to nursery-aged kids weaving in between moving cars, selling sampaguita leis—I was hard pressed to complain about Singapore society. Especially as I walked home from her place that night at 11:30 in the evening—nay—I didn’t just walk home—I sauntered home in the well-lit sidewalk in the heart of Singapore. Sauntering home is not an option in Manila—either you’ll get hit by a car (since there are hardly any sidewalks for you to walk on) or you’ll attract some unsavory types trying to “earn their keep.”

So as I sauntered home, I took advantage of the safe environment I was in, and stopped to listen to the stillness once in a while broken by the swishing sound of a passing car—chances of it to be either a BMW or a Jaguar are high. I also stopped to take a couple of photos—wondering if I had steady hands to take photos of the night scene (I don’t!). I also realized that I could actually sit on one of the bus stop benches and enjoy the cool evening breeze—without being eaten alive by mosquitoes (I guess they know to keep away from humans--or else they’d be fined!)

Our conversation played in my head again and I realized it’s all about what Abe Maslow said. Once your basic needs are met (food, shelter, security) you turn your attention to higher needs (emotional, spiritual, intellectual). The thing is, we Filipinos are barely getting our basic needs met—so how are we to look beyond that?

Half of me wish I had my Singaporean friend’s problems—but then again, would I be any happier?

Glimpses of South Thailand

2007-05-08T09:03:00.000+08:00

Bird Cages are typical of the South. I love their elaborate designs!

Those white stuff on this little girl's face is baby powder. They make sure traces of white powder are obvious--so people will know they are clean!

I love these elaborate lamposts!! They're along the major streets in Yala.

The Michelin Man knows he needs to "wai" before he can sell tires to the Thai!

This is what I never got to do while in Yala: picnic at the park!!

This is a typical Thai house. It looks like an exotic lamp at night when the yellow lights in the house are lit.

On my way to Hatyai, I noticed that the van I rode had a Muslim talisman dangling from the mirror--and a white Buddhist lei on the aircon vent in front of me (dont know if its just for the scent or for safety like the Muslim talisman in front). Ironically, I just noticed while uploading this pic that a military vehicle happened to be in front of us..for additional safety precaution too, I guess!

Moi enjoying the pine tree-dotted beach in Songkhla, Hatyai province.

*apologies for the lousy lay-out! I don't know how to put the caption in with the photos properly. Hope you enjoyed the photos, though.

My First Thailand Adventure

2007-05-07T22:27:00.000+08:00

This is the Yala Train Station. This is the very first place I arrived at in Yala way back in 2003…by car. Let me explain.

I was scheduled to go to Yala from Bangkok by train and spend a few months in this Southern city of Thailand. The plan was for me to meet my host in Bangkok and make the 16-hour train ride to the South with her. Now if my host had just stuck to the original plan and showed up--that would’ve been pretty straightforward!

“I guess you’ll just have to pray for God to send you a couple of guardian angels!” She said via email…written with an evil grin on her face, I bet!

So with a sympathetic friend in Bangkok accompanying me to the train station, I made my lonesome way to Yala.

“It shouldn’t be a problem,” I thought. “I’ll just come down when I see the sign that says Yala—that is, if the sign’s English print (under the Thai script) is big enough for me to see!”

On the train’s third stop, an elderly Thai man with a ponytail sat in front of me. I knew the key thing about traveling alone is to make friends—if nothing else, for safety’s sake. So I started practicing my Thai with him using my Thai phrasebook. We obviously didn’t have any profound discussions on Gautama Buddha but surprisingly, I was able to figure out (or maybe it was more of his communication skills) that he was a landscape artist on his way home to Sungei Golok, a city further South from Yala.

When evening came, a train staff came to make the beds—flipping out the chairs to make beds was an interesting sight. As I watched them make the beds, a lady who was sitting behind me started chatting with me. I found out that she had been eavesdropping the whole time and was actually an English teacher going home to another Southern city, Narathiwat. She just came back from Bangkok after receiving a “Best Mother of Narathiwat” award from the Queen herself! Wow.

The night on the train was bumpy but comfortable. I could feel the train stop a few times during the night but rumbled on again after a spell. I woke up to a sunny morning and enjoyed the view of the mountains from my window—until I realized that the train hadn’t move for quite a while.

So after saying good morning to my Thai seatmate who slept on the upper bunk, I went to freshen up in a surprisingly clean bathroom and came back to see the Thai English teacher smiling at me beside my bed. She treated me with a cup of coffee and chatted for a while.

Then a guy in a brown uniform came on board and made an announcement in Thai. I turned to my Thai lady friend for translation and found a worried look settling on her face.

“The man says we cannot move on from here, there is a train that got derailed up ahead and blocked the rails. We cannot go through.” She said and immediately grasp my hand and reassured me, “Don’t worry, we can travel together by bus, they are preparing buses for us.”

The funny thing was, I wasn’t at all worried. I somehow knew that I would get to Yala—and this was before I discovered roaming (I know, I’m a late bloomer!).

The man came up again and made another announcement. I presumed it was about the buses. I was right. The lady told me with dismay that the buses were assigned to go to the respective cities. So this meant we had to take different buses.

Again, she fussed over me like an adopted mom and discussed my almost-going-to-doomed-fate with the elderly Thai man. Leave it to God to put me in the hands of a Best Mother awardee!

“Come to Narathiwat with me! Then I will take you to Yala the next day.” She said. I declined even if I knew I could trust her with my life. I just couldn’t not show up when I know my host would be waiting for me at the train station…and I knew I was already a couple of hours late.

Suddenly from across the aisle, a man who was with his girlfriend spoke in Thai. I caught the word “Yala” in the conversation. It turned out that the couple were going to Yala. So the Thai lady “endorsed” the care of a poor Filipino lady traveling alone to this couple—who had zero English.

The Thai lady left her phone number, so with the old man and asked me to keep in touch. I said my thanks and went off following the couple to the bus. The sign on the bus did say ‘YALA’—in Thai script—oh, well.

It was a good thing that the Thai English lady had already left instructions with them that I should be “delivered” to the train station where my host will be waiting for me.

On the bus, again I whipped out my phrase book and practiced my then less-than-meager-Thai. After a few hits and misses, I found out that the guy was Chinese-Thai and could speak Mandarin---Hallelujah!! At least I could tell him to please ask his girlfriend to bring me to the toilet on our next stop!! Thank God for small blessings.

When we got to Yala, he suggested I get down with them in front of their store and then he would bring me to the train station in their car. While in the car with them, I saw the girlfriend using her cellphone and asked to call my host. Imagine my host’s surprise when she answered her phone and heard me on the other side telling her I was coming over to the train station chauffered by my new Thai friends in their nice little car.

After staying in Yala for many months, I hadn’t heard of any other incident of cancelled train trips. I also found out much later that many of the Thai English teachers don’t really speak good English and the Thai lady who was on the train with me was one of those rare finds.

I have traveled alone countless more times after that--on planes, trains and automobiles (Vintage Mercedes, to be specific), to further places, crossing borders and on complicated travel routes. But after that introductory lesson of God’s faithfulness, I have never worried about traveling alone since.