Busy Bee

Yes, I have been too busy lately. No, I've been busy forever and I envy those who have so much time in their hands. But when I think about it more seriously, I think I should pity those people especially when I see the look of boredom in their eyes. I'm like.. 'what??? you don't know how to use your time wisely?'

Anyways, I guess I'm just.. jealous? Because I can't seem to do even half the things I want to do. I have more than a thousand books in my reading list and the list grows long every day and I can't even put a dent to it no matter how fast I read. And I keep adding more 😄 

Then, I have a huge folder of tv series that I've been meaning to watch. Ohhh! If I could only find time to watch even one episode a day. Would you believe it if I say I haven't finished the 'Legend of the Blue Sea'? That bad, huh?

Then, I haven't finished the dress that I've been crocheting since March 😧. But the good news is I'm nearly finished with the new bolero that I started three weeks ago 😃  

Oh yeah, I have a problem with priorities. I guess that's the real problem why I don't get to finish things, right? But believe me, I'm trying. 

Anyways, I'll be posting some of my work here for promotion. When I say work, I mean my book reviews and crochet products. 

Well, got to go! 

Too Many Things to Do, Too Little Time

I know, I know. It’s cliché. But still true. But that’s not actually what bothers me this very moment. I’ve been busy for as long as I can remember. I can’t even remember any time that I wasn’t doing anything, so it isn’t a big deal anymore.  

What really gets to me is the fact that so many people, some of them I know personally, have so much time in their hands that they can actually post their entire itinerary on FB, and update it, too, from time to time. Where do they get so much time?

Is it because I wake up late? Okay, 8am is much too late to get up I’ll give you that. But I sleep late, too, like 12midnight, or even later. But even then, it seems like I accomplish too little at the end of the day. I don’t even get a chance to pick up the cross stitch I’m working on, or the beanie hat I started crocheting last May.

Could it be that I have more chores than they do? Well, I have the usual housekeeper stuff like cooking, washing the dishes, washing clothes, folding clothes, sweeping the floor (I mean, when I don’t forget), mopping the floor. Those are the usual stuff, right? Then, I update my blog, read books, two at a time, one from my tablet and another one from my cellphone when I use the bathroom (Ok you don’t need to know that), then write book reviews. And before I get to blink, the whole day is gone. Just gone. I am flabbergasted!

The problem is ‘TIME is not for sale’ and even if it is I wouldn’t have enough money to buy two hours to add to my 24.

Okay. What if you can actually buy time? What are you going to do with it? Seriously? What would you do if you have additional two hours on your day?

The Luckier Ones

This is a re-post. It originally appeared on another blog on May 07, 2014. It is re-posted for sentimental reasons.

It's summer here in the Philippines and it seems like the hottest summer so far, though we say that about every summer.

Everyone finds a way to get through the heat, from the most to the least expensive. The rich leave the country to spend the season in a much colder place while those who can afford spend almost everyday going to beaches and various resorts.

For us ordinary citizens, however, we hole up in the coziest part of the house with a pitcher of iced water permanently sitting on the table. Electric fans are turned to #3 the whole day and turned off only to cool the motor down.We are luckier than others.

I saw people toiling under the ruthless heat of the sun because they have no choice. I saw construction workers, street vendors and hired hands at the farm who labor the whole day to earn money to put food on the table.

And every time I think about them, I feel ashamed. I feel ashamed for complaining about not having enough money, about the pile of bills on my desk, about not being able to go somewhere, about the heat, about everything, when I should be grateful for what I have.

Lord, teach me to be thankful for the gift of comfort..

Lights Out Brings Back Memories

Last Saturday, we joined the 2014 Earth Hour. And since it was very hot inside the house with all the electric fans turned off, we preferred to stay outside while the Earth Hour was going on.

With the lights out, I suddenly remembered my childhood in the province, the quiet and peaceful nights usually spent singing and strumming guitar, playing guessing games, throwing around corny jokes and half-truths about everyone in town.

We had no gadgets to play with or watch on to keep us entertained, just the starry sky with all its secrets and mysteries. I know it’s not healthy to dwell on the past but looking back brings up happy memories to keep hopes up in order to look forward to the future..

My Childhood Games

I grew up in the province during the 80s. In those days, computers were unheard of yet. There were no gadgets except for Game N Watch which only the rich families could afford. There was no cell phone either, and even land line phones were scarce and only installed in the city which was an hour drive from our town.

So, what games did we play back then? Well, plenty! And absolutely much more enjoyable than the computer games kids play these days.

For girls, we played piko (hopscotch) on the street, we made mud pies and clay pots, Chinese garters, jump ropes and foot jump.

While for boys they played mostly black one-two-three which is simply running around and chasing each other, touching ball, luksong baka, baseball and other ball games.

For both boys and girl, we play sipa, patintero, hide-and-seek, luksong tinik, syetong, 7-up, touch the color, tug-of-war, and a lot lot more.

We may not have computer, tablet, DS, PSP, cell phone or whatever gadgets kids have today, but our childhoods were more memorable and I, for one, wouldn’t exchange mine for any piece of technological innovation.

Enveloped in Darkness

This is a re-post. It originally appeared on another blog on March 16, 2014. It is re-posted for sentimental reasons.

On Friday night, with my two kids already asleep and I was preparing to go to bed myself, the lights went out and we were enveloped in darkness.

I waited a few moments for the electricity to come back. Few minutes, several minutes, half an hour later, it didn’t. So, I brought out the candles which I kept for such situations and felt grateful that I still have enough to last for hours. I also brought out our rechargeable light with fan. It didn’t last long, however. Probably, someone used it before and whatever power it had was just a leftover of the previous charging.

The minutes turned to hours. It seems like our subdivision or probably the entire city of Caloocan was covered by a thick suffocating blackness. It was then that I realized how dependent we become to electricity to live.

During the 80s, when I was in grade school, some remote areas in our province didn’t even have electricity and they were living just fine putting up mosquito nets at night and opening door and windows to let some air in. But right now, sleeping without electric fan is nightmare and a day without checking out the computer (which requires electricity) for social media updates is depressing.

Five hours and six pieces of big fat candles later, the power came back and we were finally able to sleep.

What Do You Think of NOSY Neighbors?

Ah.. They are a pain..?

Well, I happen to have nosy neighbors and they are very good in what they do. I always find them chatting about everyone and everything in the neighborhood. Every time a door opens and closes, they stop talking and look as if their lives depend on what’s going on behind that door.

What I don’t understand and probably wont for the rest of my life is their irrational desire to know what’s going on with other people’s lives. Why it drives them mad not knowing what other people do, where they go and whom they go with? And when they couldn’t get the information on their own, they need to ask the person herself. Don’t they even realize that the person isn’t talking because she doesn’t want them to know anything basically because they don’t need to?

And the worse part? Whatever they learn or whatever they think they learn, they would share to everyone else. Don’t they know I’m not interested in what they have to say about others? It’s not that I’m callous or something like that, it’s not that I don’t care even a little. It’s just that I respect other people’s privacy so I tend to stay away from their business. And that I have better use of my time than to talk with them so that they could talk about me afterwards.

I know I’m being called a snob and so unneighborly behind my back but I’d rather be that than be like them..

Funny But Horrible

During the 90s, there were only a few people in our neighborhood in the province who knew how to use the sphygmomanometer, or commonly known as the BP apparatus.

Among such people was my cousin who lives in the house next to ours. One morning, right after breakfast, a neighbor a few houses away, called on him. She asked him to take the blood pressure of her husband who had been very sick for some while. My cousin packed the BP apparatus and taking my brother with him, he went to the neighbor’s house.

At first he had a really difficult time feeling for the patient’s pulse. Then, when he finally felt what he thought was the pulse, he wrapped the pressure cuff around the man’s arm and pressed the bulb repeatedly. He didn’t hear anything. So, he tried again.. Then again.. And yet again.. There was no sound. There was no blood pressure.

He took the earpiece out and said in a troubled tone…

“I’m sorry about this.. but I can’t hear any sound. He doesn’t have any blood pressure…'”

The woman who fetched him rushed towards her husband and put her ear on his chest. Then she looked up and said..

“He doesn’t have any heartbeat either..”

Well, obviously, the patient was already dead but no one realized it right away.

After a few years, when we talk about it, it sounded funny at first, the idea of taking the blood pressure of a dead man was hilarious, but when we think about a dead man lying on the bed without anybody knowing he was dead, well.. that sounds horrible..

We don’t just realize it but things like that really happen in the neighborhood.

The Jerk at the Terminal

My friend is a tricycle driver. Though he loves being a driver, he wouldn’t do it if he has a choice. I understand him, of course. Being a tricycle driver is difficult. It is tiring, it feels hot, it feels cold, it can be dangerous and a lot more. But then again, if you have no choice, then, just accept being a driver and be a good one.

So, my friend got irked when another driver approached him asking if he has smaller bills for a one hundred pesos. He said he had and handed the driver one fifty peso bill, two twenty peso bill and a ten peso coin. The driver took the money and left..

He didn’t come back.. at all. He took the money with him but didn’t give my friend back the one hundred peso bill. My friend waited. He waited until noon, then afternoon, then evening, but no… the driver just simply forgot to give him back his one hundred pesos.

Knowing how my friend worked for that money, I felt bad for him. But I also know that it wasn’t actually the money that irked him a lot, it was the attempt to outsmart him. It was the conscious effort to make a fool out of him. It was the malicious intent to rob him of his hard earned money.

Well, what can I say but there are a lot of jerks in the neighborhood..

Life Isn't Easy

Arman* and Julia* had been married for nearly 20 years. Without tertiary education, it had been difficult for both of them to get a job. Eventually, Arman found work as a porter in a wet market. Julia, however, didn’t find any, which was for the better as she had to stay home to take care of the kids.

Things seem to be going well. But then, Arman developed an ugly vice, drinking. Half of what he earned went to the bottle. Moreover, Julia developed an even uglier vice, card betting, and that in addition to the expanding family.

A few years after the birth of their 6th child, Arman got sick. He got it from too much alcohol. Julia was too distracted to find work. Then, she became pregnant for their 7th child.

What to do?

The family had to interfere. Arman’s parents helped him to get proper medication. And when the baby came out, the family decided to put the child up for adoption. With Arman under medication and Julia out of focus, the family sought for a distant relative who, they believe, would take care of the baby as if it were his own. Fortunately, they found one. He was a cousin who wasn’t blessed with a child of his own. He and his wife took the baby in.

That was 2 years ago. The baby has grown up to be a healthy child. Arman has gotten well and is now back to work. I just hope that Julia would get cured of her card betting and start thinking of her family.

*not real name

Don't EVER Drink and Drive

Last Christmas, my friend had the traditional drinking session with his buddies back home. Naturally, they got drunk. One of his drinking buddies tried to borrow my friend's motorcycle but since they were all drunk, he refused.

The night wore on and my friend got so drunk he fell asleep. He woke up late in the afternoon with a splitting headache. But there was worse than his throbbing temple. His motorcycle was gone and so was his key.

He was gripped with fear, and in his mind he begged the Lord not to let whatever was in his mind happen. But the arrival of a grim-faced friend was almost a confirmation.

As my friend feared, his drinking buddy stole his key from his pocket, rode his motorcycle and crashed against a checkpoint. He was taken to the nearest hospital but was transferred to another, bigger one because of the severity of his injuries. The motorcycle was a total wreck.

Though I am thankful that it wasn't my friend who had an accident I felt sad and bad for his drinking buddy. He should've known better than to drink and drive..

The Most Assuming Guy.. EVER!

We’ve been living in our subdivision for exactly 11 years now. We moved her on February 2003. So, not surprisingly we have numerous acquaintances as is common in an ordinary community.

Among our ‘nickname-basis’ acquaintances is Don*.Well, as far as I know, Don is known around the subdivision because he is a tricycle driver, so, chances are, most of the residents know him by face.

But one thing I noticed about Don is that, he is very friendly and he assumes that he is close to everyone, especially girls. He has a habit of greeting someone and talking to her as if they are grade school classmates that sort of thing.

I also learned from others that he has a habit of hugging a ‘friend’ as he greets her with overly enthusiastic and exaggeratedly cordial '’Friend!!” which is how he calls everyone.

But on New Year’s Day, as he was waiting for passengers outside the church, he actually saw an acquaintance and as is his habit, he approached and hugged the ‘friend’ in his usual sunshiny tone. But the warmth in his voice was stopped short by the icy palm of his friend on his face. He was, in short, well.. slapped.

He immediately got on his tricycle on drove home. He never showed up for the rest of the day.

Well.. Isn’t he assuming or what?

*not real name

When Water Gets Thicker Than Blood

Fernan* is the youngest of 8 children. Their father was an austere and tough man who believed everything could be settled by fist fights. Uneducated but hardworking, the old man did not send all his children to college and none except the one who supported herself for a higher education made it through tertiary level.

When the old man got too old to work in the fields, his children began to fight among themselves over the big parcel of land their father has accumulated through hard work. So, the old man decided to divide the land. As soon as he got his part, each sibling turned his back on his family and went on with his own life, including Fernan.

All of them did well except for Berto* who happened to be a little sickly and therefore physically weak. When problem arises, Berto would try to ask help from his siblings who were willing to help him out as long as he would give them back whatever he borrowed. Berto tried, but somehow he failed to pay his siblings back so they turned their backs on him.

Then, a few years back, Fernan got sick. He needed an operation but he didn't have enough cash. He approached his much wealthier siblings who were willing to lend him money IF he would give his land as collateral for the loan. Fernan had no choice but to accept his siblings' condition. He needed to get well so that he could support his family.

That was a few years ago. Fernan is now completely recovered from his illness but his land is lost altogether to his siblings who are now enjoying the fruits of their brother's land.

I don't know but there is something sad about this. And the worst part? They are my distant relatives.

*not real name

A Little Bit of Tact

I know several people who have issues concerning tact. I, myself, have problems controlling what comes out of my mouth every now and then. But compared when I was in my 20s, I think longer now before I talk which saves me a lot of embarrassing situations.

So, when I heard about Mr. Naga*, an old and stern preacher, I felt vindicated(?) well, better off. Mr. Naga is a severe and very outspoken preacher who felt it his Christian duty to remind each and every one of his or her fault, IN PUBLIC.

It was for this reason that my cousin, Rica* started to miss masses. She felt that he was picking on her. Then, Rica started having marital problems which led to a painful separation and which was aggravated by her miscarriage. Rica nursed her bruised and bleeding heart by refraining to talk about it with anyone except her family.

Then one day, Mr. Naga came and asked about her condition. It seems a very sweet and humane gesture.. at first. Because before he left, Mr.Naga said that Rica’s separation from her husband and her miscarriage were punishment for all her sins.

Rica hasn’t set her foot on the church again until now.

 *not real name

No Record

My aunt has been living in the United States for decades now. She helped me and my cousins through college and helped my sister come to the US as well.

Last year, my aunt suddenly decided to try to file a petition for her siblings to come live with her in the US. It was such a marvelous idea my cousins sprang up to apply for their parents’ passports. But the promising world came crashing down on them when they learned their parents have no birth certificates.

Well, how did it happen that two old men near their sixties don’t have any proof of their birth?

It seems like, during that time, women usually gave birth at home and not in hospitals. As soon as the baby came out, the local midwife would ask a neighbor who was going to town to ‘have’ the baby registered at the municipal hall. Now, if this neighbor was not able to do it because he had his hands full of errands and forgot to mention the little detail to the mother, the truth would stay undiscovered until such time as this, getting a passport.

Quite common but undeniably annoying, this is an issue that we can only solve by late registration.

To avoid such inconvenience, I got copies of my children’s birth certificates early on to make sure there was no mistake in names, birthdates, names of parents and so on. Because it may sound funny if it happens to other people but seriously inconvenient when it happens to you..

Accident or Negligence

This happened last year. I decided not to post about it because it made me feel very sad but for some reasons I feel I should, at least to warn other people about it.

Back in our province, washing clothes in the river is still done. One day, this young mother brought her laundry in the river. Since she had no one to leave her son with, she brought him with her. While she was doing the laundry, the boy was playing around, running by the riverbank, picking up pebbles and splashing water.

The mother probably got too busy she didn’t notice that her little boy was no longer around. She waited for a while hoping that he would come running back from his hiding place, but he didn’t, so she started looking for him.

She found his lifeless body several meters from where she was washing. It seems that he slipped on a mossy rock, fell and drowned in the knee-deep water.

If only she found him sooner.. But nobody knows, right?

A Pair of Shoes

Several years ago, I was getting ready for the christening of one of my goddaughters. I was almost ready when I realized I didn’t have nice shoes that would match my nice dress. I felt sorry for myself. If only I had a lot of money I could buy several pairs of shoes to match every dress I wear. But since I hadn’t, my only pair of sensible and old shoes will do.

Then I went out of the house to wait for a tricycle out of the barrio. As I was at the waiting shed, I caught sight of a trio of dirty and big-eyed children walking with, presumably, their mother towards me. I recognized her as one of those who lived in a compound somewhere in the interior of the barrio. All the kids had hollow cheeks. They were skinny and dressed in oversized old shirts and they were, all of them, barefooted.

Knowing how hot and rough the pebbles on the street were, I, impulsively, asked the mother..

“Why are they barefooted?”

“They don’t have any slippers..”

And that was that.

I looked at my old shoes and realized how ungrateful I was a while ago.

The Report Card

This actually happened more than eight years ago but the memory still stings.

I can’t remember which grading period it was but it was the distribution of cards. I took a short bath and rushed off to school hoping to get back to my chores as soon as possible. But of course, it wasn’t as simple as that. When I arrived there were a few parents already there apparently waiting for the class adviser. I sat beside an old woman who was supposed to get her grandson’s report card. Since I don’t talk much with people I don’t know I simply smiled at the old woman who just as simply smiled back at me much to my relief.

After a few more minutes, the teacher came out but announced first that those students who had some unpaid accounts(?), I didn’t know what it was called because it referred to PTA contribution, test paper, etc., would not have their cards released.

So, we approached the teacher one by one and she checked her list if the student is paid or not then handed the report card over. As soon as I got my daughter’s card, I got ready to leave when I heard the teacher talking to the old woman. I didn’t mean to eavesdrop but I didn’t need to because the voice was loud enough for me to hear. It seems like the old woman’s grandson had some unpaid stuff and that his card was being held until the account was paid.

The old woman simply nodded in understanding then waved for her grandson to come over. She explained that she could not get his report card because of some unpaid things and that she didn’t have enough money to pay it just then, and that as a matter of fact she just walked from home going to school just so she could come.

I’m not, normally, a generous person. I don’t offer help so spontaneously but my heart went out to the old woman. I opened my purse to check whether I had enough money to cover the unpaid amount and thankfully I had with me a few hundred pesos. I don’t usually carry much cash as I don’t expect to buy anything. But when I looked around for the old woman, she was already gone, probably to go home.

I tried to run after her but she probably turned an alley because I didn’t see her at all. I felt sad. I’m not rich. I don’t worship money, I believe that money is the root of all evil,  but I know I need it. But at that time, more than any other, I felt how much difference a few hundred pesos can do. I felt so sad I couldn’t bring myself to be grateful for what I have. It took me a few days before I could finally set aide the memory of the old woman and her grandson. But I never forget it to this day.

Money-Loving People

I like money. Who doesn’t?

But I like it for the things it could buy and for the services it could provide for me and not for what it actually is, pieces of colored paper with the presidents’ faces on them. So, when I met people who love money for the sheer idea of money, I was.. amused?

When I have money, the first thing I usually buy is.. food. I would treat myself to a nice diner and eat. Then, when I’m stuffed, I go to bookstores, preferably one that sells second hand because they are cheaper. I would buy something to read that is good for a month or so. Then, when I still have time, I would go to the department store and shop for clothes, shoes and bags. I usually go home empty-handed. I don’t buy, I just look. Or when I do buy, I usually hunt for the cheapest of all.

Then I met Sophie and Andrea. They are the most hard working people I know. They get up at the break of dawn and go to bed as late as they could. With such unmatchable dedication to work, I wouldn’t be surprised if I find their houses overflowing with stuff they buy for themselves.

They didn’t have any. Sophie doesn’t even have a decent television set. She works like crazy but doesn’t buy anything for herself or for her family. When I ask her what she does with the money she earns, she says she counts them every day. The same goes with Andrea. They work because they love the sight and the feel of money in their hands.

Well.. what do I have to say about that? That’s… individual differences.

Life is Harsh

Last week, we received a text message from the province telling us about a terrible news. One of our neighbors, probably a distant relative, took her own life and that of her three month-old child.

Dying is sad. Killing oneself is three times more so. As the rumors went, the girl had enough of the extreme poverty that battered the lives of almost all the residents in our barrio. With mind apparently clouded by hunger, she woke up early, fetched a pail of water on which she drowned her child before she hanged herself by a rope. Probably unsure she would die instantly, she even stuck a knife on her chest making sure whoever might find her first would not be able to revive her.

People have various reactions. I only felt extreme sadness for the girl. How difficult was life that she chose death over it?

The Good Son

Randy* is a smart boy. He graduated valedictorian both in grade school and high school. Needless to say, friends and relatives have been expecting so much from him.

He took up Architecture and did well in his first year. In his second year, however, he got sick. He missed so many of his lessons that he finally dropped out. He was hoping to reenroll the following year but his father had a stroke and was paralyzed.

When his father was brought home from the hospital, Randy took care of him for the next 13 long years until the old man died.

Old, bony but unbeaten, Randy accepted his siblings’ offer to send him to school. Having completely lost his momentum and interest in Architecture, Randy took up Education and after five years he received his college diploma. He took the board examination and passed making him a licensed teacher.

He’s been teaching in a public school for several years now and has earned the respect of his friends, relatives, colleagues and students. He’s one of the most remarkable people I’ve known in my entire life.

Salute to you, Randy!

*not real name

The Renewal Applicant

For a few years now, renewal of driver’s license here in the Philippines has required a drug test to ensure the safety of both drivers and passengers. It was sad, though, that many of the applicants had failed this important test.

Alvin* was known to be a drug user. He wouldn’t admit it but for some unexplainable reasons, we just couldn’t believe that he is actually cleared of it. So, when he applied for the renewal of his driver’s license, we waited, I must say, skeptically. We weren’t surprised when we learned that he failed. It was, for us, an affirmation of his guilt. He indeed, is, a drug user.

But his cousin, Albert* contradicted our conclusion. He didn’t show up positive for drugs. What actually showed was that he was positive, as in PREGNANT.

How could that be? Well, it seems like he submitted his wife’s urine sample instead of his. On the lighter note, we congratulated him for the new baby.. :D

The Feeling Was Gone

Yesterday, one of my closest high school friends sent me a text message. It seems like she met up with an ex-boyfriend. I could tell by her messages that she was relieved but regretful. I asked her about it and she said I was right, she had mixed feelings about the meet-up.

She said she had waited for the meet-up for a very long time and the anticipation was filled with anxiety. She had loved the guy for as long as she could remember and for some twist of fate, they had not ended up together. She got married. He got married and they didn’t see each other for quite some while. Until she received a text message from an unlisted number. It seems like the guy took the pains of finding out a way to get in touch with her.

Though unsure whether meeting up with him was a good idea or not, she agreed to it. She said she wanted to know whether the guy still has a power over her.

And so, they met up.

It was just like meeting a long lost friend. She was happy to see him after all this time. She was also extremely relieved to finally know that she could resist his charm now. However, she still feels regretful that they didn’t end up together adding a ‘what-if’ to her growing pile.

So, what could a friend, such as myself, say in a situation like that.. They were probably not meant to be together. But if they are, probably not here and not now…

The Pee Problem

How long can you hold your pee? My friend May* attended a birthday party. She drank a few bottles of beer then bid the celebrant goodbye after staying for a few hours.

While riding a jeepney home, she felt an urge to pee but found no place to relieve herself. So, she held her pee for as long as she could until she finally saw the gate to their subdivision. As the jeep entered the gate, May couldn't hold her pee any longer and decided to just.. let it go, and she did. She peed on her panties and pants inside the public transportation. Good thing it was already dark, the other passengers didn't see the fluid flowing out of her pants.

May felt so good letting her pee go that even when the jeep was about to pass by their house, she couldn't bring herself to stop it. Only when her bladder was empty did she finally stopped the jeep, got off and walked back to their house with a relieved and complacent grin plastered on her face.

 *not real name

She's Losing It

My friend, Janine* had had a problem with her husband for a very long time. She believes that he has another woman and even though he keeps denying it, even we, can feel that Janine's suspicions are true. In view of that, the soundest advice I could give her was to either accept the situation and endure the pain of having to share her husband or get out of it and suffer the consequences of a broken marriage.

She chose to keep her marriage. But when his husband, who keeps denying having an affair, started to ignore her, she began to entertain text mates. It seems harmless at first, until she told me that she went out with her textmate, who, I learned was a personal acquaintance of their family, and DID IT. I wanted to berate her but I was wise enough to keep my mouth shut. After all, we're of the same age. She knew what she was doing when she did it. Still, I warned her. It was the least I could do.

Months went by and her relationship with her husband did not improve. She and her kids already moved out of the house and stayed with her mother. But there was still no formal split up because her husband still denied his affair though a lot of people claimed seeing them together.

Then, one day, a guy we knew from our past came and expressed his undying love to Janine. It seems like he's been in love with my friend forever but wasn't given any chance to tell her and so married someone else, but is now separated from his wife. Now that he found Janine again, he considers it the works of fate and that they were meant for each other. So, he courted Janine the most romantic and traditional way and made her feel so special, then went back abroad where he works.

Even from out of the country, the guy continued to court Janine. But based on what I hear from my friend, she wasn't ready to have an affair with him and my conclusion was that she really didn't like him though she likes what he did for her and how he made her feel.

Then, two months ago the guy came home from abroad and wished to see Janine. She went out to meet him and DID IT despite the fact that she doesn't like him.

I have no right to judge my friend or anyone. The least I could do is give advice when it is asked. I told her to keep it together because I feel that she's losing it.

 My friend needs help but she wouldn't listen to me or to anyone else. I can only pray that she find peace and learn to accept life the way it is..

*not real name

The Girl With a Snake

Several years ago, I attended a wedding. As one of the bridesmaids, I stayed at the bride’s house the night before the wedding day. As was tradition in the place, there was a dance to celebrate the bride’s last night as a maiden.

Boys from the entire barrio were expected to come. The bride’s family invited girls from other barrios to attend the dance. Boys who wanted a chance to meet and talk with the girls they fancy were supposed to pay a price for a dance in which nobody was entitled to the floor except the one or ones who paid. Usually, a group of four or five boys contribute their money to raise an amount for a dance. The more money they have, the more chances they can get of meeting the girls they want.

I experienced one such dance. I was led by my partner to the dance floor and we started to get to know each other. We were beginning to feel comfortable with each other when we heard a commotion from the public. Then, a girl shrieked and everybody started to run to and fro. The father’s bride took control of the crowd and got to the bottom of the problem.

We learned later that the bride’s cousin, a girl of 17, brought her pet snake to the dance, coiled it in her arm and held it for everyone to see. Now, what kind of idiot would bring a snake in public no matter how harmless it is?

Then I realized that my partner left me on the dance floor and I never saw him again. So, the girl with the snake wasn’t the only idiot that night.

How Common is Miscommunication?

According to love veterans, one of the most common reasons why relationships don’t work out is miscommunication. Couples don’t talk the way they should. Apparently, women usually don’t say what they mean and they don’t mean what they say. They say something when they actually mean another. They usually assume that the guys know, or rather guys should know. Whoever gave them the idea to assume that guys know what they want, well.. I don’t know.

As for guys, most of them hate, and consequently, avoid confrontation. They would rather give in to the girls’ whims than to explain things they think they don’t need to and end up feeling miserable, example of which is accompanying the girls when shopping. Moreover, they would rather keep something hidden than to go through the complicated task of explaining to the girls, example would be talking with an ex even when the meeting was accidental.

Going back to the girls, the problems with them sometimes is that they don’t believe the guys. They want to desperately, but for some reasons they usually end up not believing them anyway. And for the the boys, they believe everything. So, when the girls say ‘I’m fine’ they are ok with that. After all, that’s what the girls say and they can’t see any reason why they shouldn’t believe them.

Well, in this case, I would say it’s not miscommunication, it’s failing to acknowledge the nature of the opposite sex :D

The Critic in Town

When I was growing up in our small town, I knew of a guy who had a say about almost any one in the entire place. That he did have a say about everybody was irritating enough, but saying negative things about anybody, now.. that was extremely annoying.

It seems like nobody pleased him at all. No one did his work well, something was always wrong with someone and a lot more. If he was critical with boys, he was ruthless with girls. Imperfections were always pointed out and every girl was supposed to turn out bad.

Now the unfair part is that, this self appointed critic was a man with deformed legs. He never walked his whole life. Ever since I’ve known him, he was walking on his hands and knees, dragging his bony legs and deformed feet along the streets.

That he droned on and on about the imperfections of others when he couldn’t even stand up straight was a fact that we chose to ignore. But no matter how annoying this guy was, he and I had something in common, we both loved books. Among the materials that I read when I was young were from him. I could say that he was one smart guy. Maybe that’s what made him arrogant and critical.

Last week, I learned in FB that he already died. I felt sincerely sad for this person who introduced me to the world of books. And I wasn’t surprised when I saw a multitude of sincere condolences from people in our hometown. For a critical handicapped guy, he surely had a lot of friends.

Farewell, Francisco, may you rest in peace..

Will Love Keep Them Alive?

Rose* is only 26 years old. I assume she was very young when she got married to my cousin Bert* because her eldest daughter is of the same age as my daughter, Mika. Her husband doesn’t have a stable job and Rose gave birth to their  youngest child, a boy, about 3 years ago. They already had 4 kids.

Late last week, I met with Rose. I found out that she was pregnant, again, to their 5th child. I was.. stunned. With my cousin jobless and Rose stay-at-home mom, how are they going to feed their 4 kids plus a baby? Obviously, they weren’t as worried as I was otherwise, Rose wouldn’t be pregnant right now.

Or maybe I was just overreacting. Maybe since I settled for just 3 kids I thought that other couples should do the same. Then, I asked Rose about her husband and she said he’s just the same which, I assume, means he still doesn’t have a stable job and he just drives a pedicab when someone lends him one. How often that happens, I have no idea.

I don’t judge them, nor discriminate them. I’m probably just an obsessive worry wart who thinks too much. But sometimes I wish they would think, too, not necessarily for themselves but for the future of their children.

*not real names

Keeping Together and Pulling Apart

Just a few years ago, I didn’t know what Facebook was and what it could do to me and to other people. Then, by the constant urges of my friends, I made an account and was, at first, excited to see my childhood friends, college friends and former co-workers. It was magical..

But then again, I noticed people exchanging hateful comments and I felt sad. Facebook is basically a nice thing, but if used for evil purposes, then it can be a dangerous tool.

Last year, I joined a group in Facebook. The group was formed primarily to keep old acquaintances together. It felt nice at first. Then, eventually, as if inevitable, some members  began to bicker and threw unpleasant comments at each other. The sad part is that they knew each other personally. How someone could say something bad about his friend for everyone to know is for me… pathetic.

Then last week, I learned that one of the members in my group was terminated from work because of a negative comment he posted on the group’s wall. I can’t remember what it was, or maybe I just hardly noticed, but surely, it must be something bad to have cost him his job.

I do believe that, with or without the magic of technology, we are blessed with wonderful things around us, but how to use them constructively or destructively is totally up to us..

The Real Victim in a 'Third Party' Issue Part 3

Is it always the wife?

Generally, I should say, yes. No matter how much Ruben* tried to control his feelings and avoided Glenda* in every possible way, his wife, Lena, is the obvious victim. She may be the worst wife in the world, nagger, slothful, dumb and so on, she doesn’t deserve to be duped.

Lena is jealous. She checks on Ruben as often as possible. As soon as her husband arrives, she checks his cellphone and asks about every single text message he sent. She rants on Ruben when he arrives late even for just ten minutes. She checks Ruben’s uniform for any sign of lipstick or make-up or any indication that he’s been another woman. She spends all her time checking on Ruben that she barely notices they have three children to take care of. That one of her children couldn’t read yet despite the fact that the child is already in first grade.

When she is being eaten by jealousy, she would snap at her kids as if everything were their fault. She is so obsessed by the idea that Ruben is cheating on her that she ignores the mess around the house, totally oblivious of the soiled clothes scattered everywhere and the various toys that cluttered the floor.

Lena may not be the best wife in the world, but it doesn’t justify Ruben’s falling for someone else. It doesn’t matter either that Ruben didn’t intentionally fall in love with Glenda, he fell in love with her violating his marriage vows to Lena, he is AT FAULT. And Glenda, her feelings don’t mean anything nor do her intentions, she got involved with a married man. Period.

We usually judge at face value, basing our judgment on what we see and NEVER in what we don’t see. The real victims here?

I think we are. We are victims of our own prejudice. We spend meaningless moments mulling over something we know nothing about and something that are none of our business.

*not real names

The Nice Guy

Fifteen years ago, my husband and I met at a park near the public transportation terminal. Since we were both tired and hungry, we went inside a diner and ordered chicken and rice.

When we were seated, we saw three boys entered. From the looks of them, they practically lived on the streets. In the tallest boy’s palm were a heap of coins. It took them a long time to decide what to order and finally settled for two cups of rice and a piece of chicken. They thanked the crew who gave them their order and they took the table right beside ours.

They broke the warm chicken into small pieces and took turns with the spoon and fork. They were halfway with their meal when I asked my husband if we could give my rice to the boys so they could eat more. But then I saw a neatly dressed guy who left his friends in their table and got another order of the same meal the boys were eating and served it to them.

The boys were speechless at first. Then, they found their voices and thanked the guy in unison. This time, they ate with gusto and even joked between mouthfuls. Though they came in last, they were still the first to finish eating.

When they were done with their food, they tucked the chairs and went over to the ‘nice guy’ and thanked him again. The guy just nodded and told them to ‘take care.’ Then, they left the diner obviously full and happy. I looked at the retreating figures of the boys and the serene face of the nice guy and realized how a cup of rice and a leg of fried chicken can make a difference.

The Real Victim in a 'Third Party' Issue Part 2

A man who has another woman is always the object of contempt among girls. He is a jerk and he deserves to suffer the most painful of all pains. He should be left alone, unloved and unwanted and all the painful things we could think of.

But… Are they all like that?

In the case of Glenda* and Ruben*, I couldn’t help feeling sorry for Ruben. He didn’t want to mess up his family. All he ever wanted was a peaceful life, a stable job, a loving wife and wonderful children. But by some twist of fate, the very thing that he wanted more than anything else, is something that is very difficult to get, no matter how simple and common it may be.

He was content with what he had. He was happy with what he did, working hard to provide for his family. Who would ever guess that he would meet a very special woman, sweet, funny, and very nice to be with. He didn’t want to be disloyal, he didn’t want to be unfaithful. He tried to stay away while he could, but fate sometimes plays practical jokes on us but instead of laughing, we end up bleeding.

Ruben fell in love with Glenda, the kind of love that tends to be protective and nurturing. He wanted what’s best for her even if it means losing her in the long run. He was willing to suffer in silence and let go if it would mean she would be happy. He wanted her to find the very thing that he could not give her, marriage.

He didn’t mean it. In fact, he didn’t want it to happen. But it did. And even he had no power to change how he felt. He loved Glenda and it hurt him more than he could admit that she became a victim to such a complicated situation where she would be at the losing end eventually.

People view him as a heartless and unfaithful jerk. Nobody would even consider that he is a victim just as well…

*not real names