The Egg-Roll Man

About 8 years ago, I was a STAY-AT-HOME mom to my 3 kids: a grade school, a pre-school and a toddler. Being in charge with all the house works and the children, I didn’t have any single time for myself. I felt like a fat, lousy, worthless bag of flesh.

Then one day, as I was about to pick up my middle child from school, I heard a loud voice yelling “LUMPIA! (Egg roll)”. It was the man selling eggroll in our subdivision. He was a tall, dark, lean young man who smiles at everyone he came across with. I suddenly felt the urge to buy some eggroll. Honestly, it didn’t look good, hehe.. But I just wanted to talk with him.

But before I was able to say anything, he spoke, thus began our conversation. I found out that he was a high school graduate. He couldn’t find any job that could support his family. His wife was 6-months pregnant and was at home taking care of their 2-year old son. I asked him why he didn’t he apply for a regular job. He said a high school graduate like himself has a slim chance of getting a job unless under employment agency and he had bad experiences with employment agencies like not being paid on time, not being given over time pay, not being given SSS remittances, among others. So, he just decided to sell eggroll.

When I asked him if it’s not difficult. He said everything is difficult and selling eggroll is better than not doing anything at all. He also expressed his regret for being not able to finish his studies and said that he would do everything he could so that his children will have a better life than what he had.

More than entertained, I was enlightened. If Eggroll Man with such very little in life had so much hope, how come I felt this way?

That day, something has changed. I started to see beauty in everything. Moreover, I became more hopeful that I had ever been.. Thanks to the Eggroll Man..

Tough Guy

I knew Jun-jun* since we were young. He was one of those dirty looking kids who roam the place around. Since my father had been operating a billiard hall from time immemorial, my chances of watching over it was a given. Needless to say, Jun-jun was one of our regular players.

He was the usual bum, smoking at 10, drinking at 12, gambling as soon as he learned to talk. He was also known for being rude to elders, talking obscenely with ladies and cheating on games no matter how small or high the stakes were.

So, I wasn’t the only one who was shocked when we saw him in clean and respectable shirt and with decently cut hair. Come to think of it, he smelled nice, too. Our shock doubled over when we saw him among the sacristans. Well, it seems like our parish priest was giving him a chance, so, why won’t we?

Though I still had misgivings, I started to talk with Jun-jun just like I do with everybody else. Before, I used to avoid him every chance I get. After a few months, Jun-jun became one of us, at-ease, funny and nice. I noticed, however, that he liked talking to me more than the others and I could understand that, we’ve known each other for a long time and now that we’re beginning to be friends, why not catch up for the lost times. Then, we were randomly paired in a newspaper dance where I had to step on his feet and put my arms around his neck just so we could win. Well, we lost.

But since then, Jun-jun started to take a new interest in me. That’s when I found out his weakness. No matter how tough a guy he was, he was extremely shy to the girl he likes. I knew he was starting to like me but he was too shy to tell it to me in person. So, he started giving me stuff, sweets (through his friends) and a cuddly little stuffed dog (through his friends as well). It went on and on until he finally realized he wasn’t getting anywhere unless he talks to me personally.

Sadly, he chose a very unfortunate time. He came to our house at the same time another suitor did. He smelled of beer, but instead of disappointment I felt only pity for this tough guy who needed to drink just so he could speak up. It seems as if my other suitor understood Jun-jun’s predicament, he left earlier and even gave him an encouraging tap on the back.

So, there we were, Jun and I, Jun-jun making unintelligible noises, probably convinced that I understood what he was saying, and I, waiting for Jun-jun to pack up his courage and get it over with. Fortunately, after two hours, Jun-jun finally spoke, and without looking at me in the eye, told me how much he likes me because I was cute, I was smart and that I treated him very nicely.

I didn’t want to break his heart so soon, but better sooner than later. So, I told him how nice it was of him to think I was cute and smart. I told him I like him too, but I like him only as a friend. And I would be happy if we would be friends in the years yet to come.

Jun-jun was broken-hearted nonetheless, so, I gave him time and space. After a while, he started to talk to me again and we, indeed, became friends, until now. Every now and then he would remind me of that night and we would laugh over it agreeing with each other that it was one of the funniest moments in both our lives.

*not real name

Does Mother Know Best?

I thought so. I guess I was wrong.. :(

Beth* is a mother of seven children. She made a mistake of marrying someone she thought was someone else and walked out on him after several miserable years. She had four children by her husband.

When Beth realized that no man would take her with four kids in tow, she sent the children to her siblings and she lived with a tailor. After a few years, Beth learned that the tailor would never accept her children, so, she sent them back to their father who sent them to school.

Beth had three more children by the tailor. But she was still unhappy. She wanted more in life. She made a mistake of marrying her first husband whom she believed to be a son of a wealthy politician. Now, she’s stuck with the tailor, who, though a good provider, was not willing to spend for her vanities. But she had no choice and had nowhere to go. So, she grew more bitter as she grew old.

When her children turned adult, Beth developed a habit of faking illness. One time, she sent a telegram to her grown-up daughter, telling her that she was sick and needed money. Scared and concerned, the grown-up daughter hastened to her mother’s side only to find out her mother was fine. Beth did it again, and again, and again, until her children didn’t want to believe her anymore.

When Beth realized that her children were no longer as concerned with her health as they used to be, she started to turn them against each other by making up inaccurate stories. The clueless children started to distrust and talk bitterly of one another.

Why a mother would do that to her children is a mystery to me.

 *not real name

The Little Miss..

It is somehow traditional for us, Filipinos, to hold contests and competitions during a celebration. For instance, it is common at town fiestas to have singing and beauty competitions, which are, unsurprisingly, joined by an enormous number of contest enthusiasts.

About 7 years ago, a neighbor of mine had her daughter join the 'Little Miss…’ in our subdivision. They bought the most glamorous gown they could find. The girl was taught to dance the latest dance craze at the time and she was practiced to answer different types of beauty contest questions. I nearly forgot to mention.. the girl is not so pretty.

When the contest was concluded, the girl didn’t get any place at all. The mother and grandmother, enraged with the result of the contest, called it nonsense and biased. After ranting about the injustice, all three of them marched off to.. we didn’t ask where and came back at the end of the day with a shining tiara and a trophy that goes with it. I heard they got a discount for the entire set and a free sash :D

And that’s how my neighbor’s daughter came to be the Little Miss…

A Widow's Gestures

My friend, Jay* is new in his job as a money lending collector. After the first few weeks of getting the hang of his new job, he is now beginning to enjoy his work, except for Mrs. Adonis*. Mrs. Adonis eh a widow. Probably in her late 40s, she has been a client of the lending company for quite a while.

When Jay met the older woman, he felt uneasy for some reasons but he tried to brush his uneasy feelings aside. But every time Jay comes for his collection, Mrs. Adonis would invite him inside the house and offer a glass of juice. Each time, Jay politely refused and would say he still had a long list of clients to go to.

Then last week, Mrs. Adonis went to a trip out of town and came back with a handmade key chain with Jay’s name on it. Jay’s uneasiness turned to extreme discomfort and eventually fear. Apparently, Mrs. Adonis’ friendly gesture was putting Jay’s job at risk because liaison with clients is prohibited in the company. He sent me a text message asking me for the safest course of action.

Honestly, I didn’t know either. So, I just advised him to tell his immediate superior about Mrs. Adonis’ ‘gestures’ and to be very honest about his ‘discomfort’ over them. Jay wasn’t at all surprised when he learned that he wasn’t the first collector to receive such gestures from Mrs. Adonis, but he was the first to stay away from her because the others seem to enjoy them but obviously in a very discreet way because no one was caught, yet. Jay was so relieved when his superior promised to assign another collector to the woman’s account.

Jay asked me if he was being so assuming. I said he probably was, but, it’s better to be safe now than sorry later..

 *not real name

Unreasonable and Unnecessary

About 20 years ago I met an extremely shy guy in our town, Lando*. He didn’t look bad actually. He was dark and tall and with a body of a farmer, muscled. Except for being unreasonably shy, I could say he was one OK guy.

One day while Lando was having lunch, a group of people passed by his hut in the middle of his farm. One of them, a very pretty girl, smiled at him and said..

‘Wow, that’s one enormous mouthful of food..’ (Ang laki ng subo ah..)

Lando was stunned but didn’t say anything.

That night, we heard a commotion outside. A pedicab was hailed to take someone to the hospital in town. It was Lando. Because of too much embarrassment, he drank a bottle of pesticide. It was actually funny if only it wasn’t tragic.

Lando died that night. He killed himself over a joke.. :(

 *not real name

On College Graduation

I graduated from the Far Eastern University, where I finished Bachelor of Science in Psychology, in October 1997. I did not attend the graduation ceremony. First, I did not find it very important at the time. Second, I did not have enough money for the graduation fee, toga, graduation picture, college ring and year book. I was simply too poor.

After 18 years, my daughter Candid graduated from the same school. We did everything so she could come to the commencement exercises. It was a simple thing for a cum laude to ask. Besides, I wanted her to know what I, myself, did not have a chance to find out, how it feels to graduate.

As I sat there watching, I finally realized how great it was; how happy the graduates were and how happier the parents were. It was overwhelming. All in all, it was a beautiful and wonderful experience for me.

However, I still do not feel regretful for missing my own graduation. After all, it is not the graduation, but what you do AFTER graduation that is MORE important.

My sincerest and love-filled congratulations, anak! There is just one thing I want you to remember for the rest of your life.. No matter where you go, no matter what you do, no matter who you become, always, ALWAYS, keep your feet on the ground.

Lab ka ni Mama…

My Neighbors.. The United LAUREANS

This is a re-post. It originally appeared on another blog on Oct. 23, 2011. It is re-posted for sentimental reasons.

Several months ago, I was added by a friend to a group in Facebook, the ALAM MONG TAGA LAUR KA KUNG…

It was an exclusive group of people from our hometown of Laur, Nueva Ecija. It was created by Mykel Lacuesta Dizon, a fine lad who is presently working abroad. According to him, he created the group to withstand the homesickness he feels from working far from home.

It started out as a group of people who share common memories of our hometown. Both my sister Liz and I are active members of this group. For some reasons, we find it comforting to talk about the past and things peculiar to our place like our customs, traditions, festivals, food, etc. At first, it was like a grafitti wall where you can say things you can remember. Then members started to share pictures old and new. It was as if it was a place where you can be yourself and you will be accepted no matter what. It became a source of happiness and joy to everyone. Members go there to comfort and to be comforted. The group became not only a form of diversion but also a sanctuary and something to look forward to.

Then, it was conceptualized and decided upon to form a formal organization to be more of service to the community we all love. Thus, the United Laureans was born. Officers were elected and the fun continued. Then, calamity struck in the form of Pedring and Quiel. The dedication and passion of the newly elected officers and members were put to the test for the first time. Donations came from everywhere. Every member wants to extend help to people he or she does not know and would not meet. The group has only one thing in mind… to help out.

The first relief operation was held in Betania, Laur, Nueva Ecija. Led by the officers, volunteers flock together to show the power of unity.

It may be too premature to rejoice over this simple success, regardless, we are proud of what we were able to do and we would continue to do our best to make our hometown a better place.

This is my neighborhood where I am an active member. We may be far apart from each other but our hearts beat as one, because we are the united LAUREANS..

Proud to be Pinoy! Proud to be LAUREAN!

Mabuhay tayong lahat!!!

The Clue

When you lose someone for the first time.. and the second time… then the third time, isn’t it clue enough? Do you still have to wonder why you keep on losing him?

My friend Adelle* and I met in college. There he met the man of her dreams. Though we were only 16 at the time, she was so sure he was the one for her. To cut the long story short, they broke up. Adelle was crushed and I hated James* for causing my friend so much pain.

So, when they got back together five years after their break-up, I was uneasy. But since I was just a friend and I could only hope for the best and expect for the worst, I kept quiet. And my expectations were justified when Adelle, after yearssss of waiting for James to make things ‘official’, decided to let him go and luckily found someone else who gave her the love and affection James was too much of a jerk to give.

But if I was uneasy the second time, I was outraged when Adelle told me, just recently, that James had been hanging around, which made it the third time he messed up with my friend’s life. This time I knew I couldn’t meddle. I wasn’t able to influence Adelle then, how could I hope to influence her now? So, I just watched from a distance as the loathsome guy broke my friend’s heart for the third time.

He’s just hateful. No matter how much Adelle tried to tell me that it was her fault for falling for him again, I knew in my heart that despicable guy was conscious of his effect on my friend. He knew as he had always known, and yet he chose to toy around with her feelings.

I know I’m being biased, but I can’t help it. It’s frustrating..

*not real name

The Woman on P. Florentino

When my sister Liz and I were in college, we used to live in a boarding house at the corner of M. dela Fuente and P. Florentino Sts. in Sampaloc, Manila.

Along P. Florentino St. roamed a woman dressed in rags. She must be in her mid 40s at the time. During the day, she walked along the street just like a typical beggar. During midnight, she cried and screamed and called her children’s names. In my first night at the boarding house, I didn’t sleep at all. I asked my landlady what it was about. I learned that the woman, let’s name her Bebe, was a teacher. For some reasons, her marriage didn’t work out so she and her husband filed for a legal separation where she won full custody of her 3 children.

In consideration for her parents-in-law, however, she allowed her ex-husband to take the kids out every once in a while and it seems like the man deserved her consideration and for 2 years, the arrangement went on and everybody appeared to be happy about it.

One particular Sunday, however, her kids weren’t returned to her and SHE NEVER SEE THEM AGAIN. Rumors had it that during the time that Bebe let her ex-husband take the kids out, the man’s family was making arrangements for the kids to be taken to the United States and for 2 years, they were able to provide the necessary papers required for the children to leave the country.

Bebe was devastated. The pain of losing her kids and the realization of being outwitted by the people she gave so much consideration, drove her to the brink of her sanity until she finally let go of reality.

Day after day, Bebe roamed the streets of Sampaloc looking for her lost children, and night after night, she called them by their names. I even heard her singing an off-key lullaby.

I couldn’t believe it, but I got used to Bebe. But every time I imagine that I understood her, I realize that I don’t and I guess I never will.. How would you feel if you are robbed of your reasons for living?

Love Stands to Reason

Twenty four years ago, I had the opportunity to sing with a great singer at the church choir. This guy, Fred* was a consistent winner in singing competitions and compared to him, we were small fries. So, why he even joined the choir was a mystery to us. But a mystery soon to be uncovered.. only to me.

It couldn’t have been obvious because Fred was a very reserved person. He usually kept only to himself. So, I was probably just.. perceptive. For some reasons, I always caught him staring at one particular choir member, Jenny*, so I joked him about it. But when he turned red all over, I knew I hit on something.

So, that was the reason. He joined the choir because he liked Jenny. He made me promise never to tell anyone, and of course, I did promise, after all, it was his secret not mine, therefore, it was for him to tell not me, right?

Jenny, whom we called ‘Tiffany’ (Fred thought her voice was like that of the 80s singer Tiffany’s) was pretty, smart, popular and sweet. No wonder Fred went an extra mile to be with her. But Fred was also aware that he had a very slim chance, if he had any chance at all, of winning Jenny’s heart. He was not good looking, he was poor (not poor as in pitiful but literally poor, without money, that’s why he always joined singing contests) and he was in the last section which means, he wasn’t smart, under ordinary standards. Still, he wrote her a very romantic letter to tell her how he felt. Out of curiosity, I asked him why he did that, when he knew he didn’t stand a chance. And he said he liked Jenny so much it was killing him unless he expressed it. And he certainly did. Well.. I understood that much.

But after a few months, he asked Jenny what she felt about him. This time, I felt a little embarrassed for him. Why would he ask Jenny when he knew it was impossible for her to like him back. But he said, he had to know, he had to hear it from Jenny.

Wow! This guy had some guts. And in fairness to Jenny, she had been very.. polite in turning down Fred. She said she was grateful and flattered for Fred’s affection, in fact she liked Fred, but only as a friend, and as if an afterthought, she said she already liked someone else, as in romantically.

Fred took it.. valiantly. He still joined choir practice, he talked to us as if nothing (painful) happened, only I was able to see through him and felt the sadness in his eyes. But when Jenny and the star volleyball player of our school were rumored to be going out, Fred dropped the pretense. He left the choir and didn’t come near us again.

Ten years after that, I could still see Fred wearing a customized shirt with ‘Tiffany’ printed at the front and the title of Tiffany’s song at the back. It didn’t look like an old shirt, in fact, it seems freshly printed, so, I had to believe he still held Jenny at high regard.

Fred didn’t know it and wouldn’t know it, but I learned a lot about love from him, love is kind, and patient, and brave, love accepts that which is true, love doesn’t enforce itself to someone and love stands to reason, among others..

 *not real names

Great Expectations

What happens when you expect too much from love? You get disappointed.

Well, I guess expectations are all right. However, great expectations are not so. Believing that the person would never mean to hurt you and would only want what’s best for you and would stand by you when the going gets tough is faith. But expecting this person to change his nature and to surrender his privacy is unreasonable.

Generally, girls are more expressive than boys. A guy who goes through the pains of painting an entire house pink for his lady-love, or sprinkle petals of four dozen roses so his girl could walk her way through them, or exchanging his sneakers with his girlfriend’s killer high heels so she could walk comfortably, is only one out of a hundred, otherwise exists only in movies and soap operas. To expect your boyfriend to go over the edge for you seems to me self indulgence and has very little to do with love if at all. Though there really are exceptionally romantic guys, there are more who prefer to express their affection more simply and if you happen to be with a guy like that, then accept him for what he is and do not expect him to read you poetry, or give you a long-stemmed white rose.

And what’s with girlfriends knowing their boyfriends’ passwords? And checking on his text messages and call log? If your boyfriend wants to hide something from you, he will, with or without your checking on him. You’re just helping him hide his secret more efficiently.

I’m not being KJ. I just know a lot of guys and I had a lot of guy friends. I also had some encounters with romantic guys, and they really are, well…. romantic. You may meet some of them, or may not. But that doesn’t mean you’re not adorable. You just don’t come across them and you are hardly to blame for that.

The Applicant

Sometime in the late 70s, a fresh graduate of Bachelor of Science in Education, Luna*, came home in the province. With her was her college diploma and her license from the Professional Regulatory Commission.

The first thing she did was submit an application to the only high school, a Catholic school, in our town. And to her felicity, she was scheduled for an interview with the school director, the current Parish Priest. So, she prepared. She was so excited that she slept very little. But her happiness was clouded with sadness and disappointment when she was greeted by a stormy morning. There was a typhoon.

As there was still no cell phone during that time, there was no way to notify the school that she couldn’t come. That left her no choice but to go on with the interview.

She fixed herself and dressed in business attire. Since there was no available tricycle because of the storm, Luna decided to walk amidst the raging wind and violent rain. After several minutes, she finally made it to the school. She went directly to the Parish house where the school director lives and takes office.

The moment the director admitted her in his office, the first thing Luna noticed was the shocked expression on his face. So, she hastily apologized for her pathetic appearance and ranted on about the awful typhoon and how she couldn’t find a way to let the director know she couldn’t come and since she wanted to keep her word and didn’t want to give a negative impression, she gathered all her courage and came for the interview instead.

What do you think happened?

Of course, she was accepted. In fact, she had been my teacher in high school. As what the school director said at the conclusion of the interview

“If you came over here despite the raging storm because you wanted to keep your word and that’s in addition to your impressive resume and transcript of records, then I do believe you will be an asset to this school..”

And she is..