Nanay

Atop the stairs of a rickety old house from the days of bayanihan, there sits a grand old lady, with silver and gold hair quietly rocking in her equally rickety old chair -- the chair that has been her throne for so long, and for four generations. Her face lined with experience and time, but her smile as new as the dawn. She rocks quietly, taking in everything around her. i sometimes wonder what goes through her mind, as she stares at the pavement down below, listening to her grandchildren play with the dogs and chickens and cats loitering in the street. She's 91 years old. She is the mother to seven children, with one boy passing away in childhood. She is the grandmother to seven, and a great grandmother to two babies. She has raised her children with her husband to the best of her ability, inculcating in them the same values her mother has taught her, never materialistic, never envious, never boastful nor wanting attention to herself. She has taught her grandchildren these same values, and they only wish they could be a fraction of what she is.

She has lived her life with dignity, shared everything that she had, seldom thinking about her own needs. She didn't ask for a grand life, but she was given a life full of blessings. She didn't ask for lands, but her name is respected far and wide. In her old weakened state, people would come to her, trying to serve her in their own little way, the way that she has given a part of herself to their mothers, sons, daughters, grandparents... People would come up to those rickety old steps to ask for her blessing, giving her the respect she has no doubt deserved from decades of being compassionate and giving.

When we were kids, we used to spend summers in Marinduque, going back to Manila as dark as pots and pans. Up until highschool we would be vacationing at my dad's hometown, just spending the day lazing around and going to the beach.

During college, my grandfather passed away, and i think that was the last time i went. It was after some years that i returned to the province, almost forgetting what it was like. I then made it a point to return at least once a year. I started appreciating my nanay. I think she is the most beautiful woman God had the wisdom to put on this earth. And i love her to bits.

Last year, I went for a vacation with friends for the Holy Week, and my friends lined up to ask her blessings, all trudging up those steps to hold her hand and bring it to their foreheads. True to form, my nanay gave her blessings to each and one of the girls...and reserved the hugs and kisses for the boys!!! (with matching sniffing) The old flirt!!!! hahaha, but jerry loved it. She's like that...old and sweet and regal. She would sit on her old rocking chair, and i would sit on a bench that is almost as old beside her. I will take her hand and give her a massage. That old, freckled, weathered skin has always had me captivated. It is a contradiction of roughness and delicateness. I'd run my hands over it, each time as if feeling it for the first time. If she knew i was going home, she wouldn't sleep until i'm safe and sound, every now and then asking everyone if i had arrived already. Even in her semi-senile state, she would ask and she would wait, even if she doesn't know why. Waiting for her children to come, waiting for a kiss on the forehead and on the hand, and then finally smiling, because her sons and daughters have remembered her.

She is the most beautiful woman i have ever met. and i wish i could be like her...even just a bit. And so it hurts to see her having a hard to time to walk. It hurts to see her not remembering the people that she has loved all her life. It hurts to see her in pain.

But she will always be the most beautiful woman to me.

Ho hum

with all the passwords and user IDs in the net, i can never keep up...thus, my most important account got disabled. funny thing is, i need a pin there as well and unfortunately, i can't remember that either!!! dammit

Intimidating

one guy recently asked me, why was i not dating anyone currently. and i gave him the answer people have had the audacity to tell me...because i was intimidating. and he said i can see why.

i first got irritated with that word when my aunt, who is a spinster, told me that i was too intimidating for men, basically because i spoke my mind, i have a focus in life, i am a professional, i come from the best academic institution (woohoo!!!) and i am independent. in short, i have a brain. and i don't see anything wrong with it. i hate it when people say that word as if it's my fault that i am making something out of my life. i hate when people say it as if it was a bad thing, as if it's something to be ashamed about. my aunt further warned me that if i didn't 'lie low', then i would be facing the future alone. of course i appreciate her somewhat twisted concern for me, since she didn't want me going thru what she was undergoing, whatever that may be...but for god's sake, i'd rather be alone with my brain and my beliefs that settle for a guy who is either too much of a wimp to step up or an egotistical maniac who can't see me as an equal but instead as competition.

one girl from school said to me once, she herself being 'intimidating', i give off the impression that i am the type to get even, to charge against anybody who gets in my bad side, so i'm kinda scary. that was a hoot. i'll let you in on a secret. when the situation gets too stressful, or when i'm in pain, i laugh. i don't cry, i don't throw things around (except maybe once in the august hallways of Malcolm when i got my grade from a corrupt, chauvinist professor who didn't even know what he was talking about). as a child, when my father punished me, i'd just stare at him sullenly, neither getting mad, nor crying out loud in pain or humiliation. in my adult life, i have only been mad four times: 1. when my ex cheated on me, but i just buried myself in my pillow and shouted, 2. when i had one of the worst days of my adult life and i was waiting for the driver of a car parked in my driveway for such a long time who turned out to be making out with my gay housemate (who made our apartment a freaking brothel while we were out!!!) and it was just the last straw, 3. when my brother and i fought over his attitude, (it's kinda complicated) 4. when i found two lesbians who are strangers to me on my bed, in my apartment one sunday morning after a 24-hour trip around luzon.

here's another secret, i am a pushover. i turn into mush if i'm in a relationship or the beginnings of one.

so for the guys who don't have the balls to go beyond the 'intimidating' exterior of all the girls out there, i can only say one thing...that's your problem. it's your loss.

Happiness

This is a weird title for this post. But well, when i think of the folks i've met in Cambodia, attending a conference, i feel happy. The travel was exhausting, i am still recovering from it all. body aching all over, headaches every hour or so...but meeting everyone made it all worth it.

I wasn't really too keen on going to Cambodia for the simple reason that business trips aren't really something to be too excited about because it means work, work and more work. I was however mistaken when i met these people who have made Cambodia much more fun...especially when you're trapped in a province in the middle of somewhere and nowhere and there's nothing else to do except sing 100 songs in the VIP Lounge at night...

there's Margreet, my roommie who, for one thing or another, i have a weird connection to, since we wake up in the middle of the night at the same time more or less for no apparent reason. seems such a pity really that we didn't get to sleep much in our very luxurious room.

Then there's Tassi, a very sweet sweet lady from Bangladesh who doesn't talk much English but that wouldn't stop her from being so supportive and so sweet! feels like i have my best friend with me when i'm with her.

Lolo Colin who promised to give me his camera!!!!! hahaha...wishful thinking. A guy who i said doesn't smile much, but deep inside, he is such a jolly good fellow! i don't have a grandfather anymore,but he made up for that. (I just hope he won't give everyone copies of my solo pictures!)

And of course, the smokers: Sammy, Khyram, Hla (is that spelled right?) Bobby who never run out of stories and stuff to talk about. They make tea breaks and mealtimes entertaining and interesting.

Then there's Tony, who has been like my dad, taking care of me while i was in KL. "If i only knew your children, i would say to them that they are so lucky to have a father like you..."

And of course, last but not least, Sean...the Half-Fil who hurts whenever people say he doesn't look Asian. Thanks for being my shield.


So despite the body ache, the hassles of traveling, the exhaustion, these people made the experience so much greater. When i left, i felt i was leaving my "barkada". bittersweet actually. I do hope we'd see each other again, and i promise i would be putting names below your pictures so as not to forget!!!! hahahaha!!!!