How Lucky We Are

I heard a sad story the other day when AM, one of the maids here, left permanently.

With all the maids that have made their way to my family's home since I was a kid, this is one of those "aalis na po ako" stories that I may never forget.

AM decided to go when she heard that her aunt, who's taking care of her father, passed away. She had some sort of disease that had the doctor no choice but to amputate both her legs to prevent the disease from spreading. I guess after the doc amputated the remaining leg, she couldn't bare to see another day.

AM has a monthly salary of 3,000 pesos. She sends 2,000/month back home for her family's spending while the remaining 1,000 she keeps for her life savings.

According to B, they never saw AM spend a single centavo of that 1,000. When B and the other maid go out to buy meryenda, AM would not join. She would simply eat whatever food is portioned for the household help, nothing else.

B even said that the slippers that she uses were so old that the soles of her feet are already kissing the ground since the slippers were so worn out. She never wanted to spend her savings.

But then her aunt died and she wanted to go see her for the last time. She had planned to go back with her sister who also works as a maid here in Manila.

But then, going back by sea is cheap but it will take them 3 days for the trip. She might not be home in time to see her aunt. Thus she and her sis decided to take the plane, a faster but costly route.

To shoulder the airfare, she had no choice but to use up her savings to fly back. Her 1,000/month savings, all gone.

The Last Straw

Badminton, as you know, is the sporting craze nowadays here in Manila. Courts are popping up like mushrooms all around, and many people have taken up the sport ---much to the dismay of the missus.

Ten years ago, badminton was just like any other neglected sport here. But the missus and her friends were regular shuttlers, meeting weekly at Camp Aguinaldo to play. But ever since the sport picked up its popularity, she lost the energy to play.

Why you ask? Let me put it by this example:

Imagine you bought an album of your favorite artist/band. Some of the songs are already getting their regular airplay in the radio-stations, while there are some songs that are still unknown to the listening public.

You then find one particular song that hasn't been aired. You listen to it, and you love it ---more than the other songs, including the ones getting airplay. You christen it as THE song that you like most in the album and best of it all is that only you, and the other people who bought the album, are the only ones who get to listen and enjoy that song.

Then, after two weeks buying the album, you turn on the radio. Suddenly, you hear a familiar intro.

It's THE song that you love, and it's now being played on air!

Now everyone hears it. Everybody now knows it. It not only gets airtime on the radio, but you'll see it on TV, with the ultimate insult of some lame-ass forgotten hearthrob actor/actress trying to sing it on a non-favorite Sunday noontime show ---out of tune.

Your song, for all terms and purposes, has been mutilated.

Now use that analogy to the missus on badminton, you'll understand why.

She was ok with me starting to pickup the sport (Before, I didn't like badminton AT ALL). But then her dismay began to pickup when the basketball-clad guys hitting the shuttles came, then came the Sexbomb Dancers on the cover of Inquirer-Badminton magazine, then came Boy Abunda being interviewed in a weekly Badminton show.

Then, well, the last straw came:


Yes, that's good ol' Ronald McDonald hitting a shuttle.

Good thing football isn't that popular here.

Yet?

Oh please no.

GaryV

The missus and I went out last Thursday to watch "GaryV @ 23" at the Music Museum. This was our 3rd time to watch him live and, once again, he didn't dissapoint.

The crowd got excited everytime he'd walk towards the seats. This was where most of the fans would cry out, "Gary here!" to grab his attention so that they can have the opportunity to touch, hug, and even kiss him. The damatans were particularly the kilig-est of the bunch.

There was this old lady on our row who I assumed to be a die-hard fan. It was halfway thru the show that Gary then jumped to the aisle where she was and started walking. She, overcome with excitement, threw both arms in the air with hands signaling Gary to come on over. Kulang na lang eh sumigaw sya ng "Too! Too!" as if calling her favorite pet. Sad to say Gary didn't reach her and had to walk back up the stage. Later on there was another old-lady who was brave enough to walk towards the edge of the stage and Gary obliged by taking pics with her and kissing her on the cheek. Our old-lady then signaled his now embarassed husband to take her picture with Gary since she wanted to do the same. Unfortunately for her (and fortunately for the husband), the plan didn't pull through.

Seeing that Gary didn't reach their area (which was near the missus), a group of middle-aged women were crying out for Gary to come over. I was just smiling at how these women wanted to be near him. Good thing the missus wasn't like this, I thought.

Suddenly, I was surprised to hear a faint cry "Dito naman!" from my left side.

It was the missus.

Well Gary did walk her aisle but he was 3-5 rows short of her. Oh well, at least she got to enjoy the concert, as always.



Hmmm...maybe next year she'll request me to get the front-center seats. Hehe.

Motivation

I saw this coming down from the 29th floor.


Now that's something to aim for.

The Missus Missing Palmville

The missus has been missing our condo in Palmville for quite sometime now. The odds of us going back there is slim so we might as well reminisce with this video clip I took before I left Malaysia for good.

Sporting Options

One of the things I like being back home is the numerous sporting options for the week. Here's what I have so far:

Badminton. There's 3 groups that I can join for this, 2 of which are from my ex-colleagues from Globe, and the 3rd are with my collegemates. I've started playing with the latter group every Sunday at Libis. The playing fee is cheap (P75/head for play-all-you-can) although the shuttlecocks are still pricey. If I only remembered to buy a bunch before I left Malaysia (sigh).

Basketball. I've started last Monday with my collegemates. It was an off-night for me since the last time I played was early this year. Rusty on the 3-pointers but I think with constant practice I'll be in shooting-form next time.

Football. Last but not least, my favorite sport. I used to play regularly every Saturday afternoon with my highschool's alumni football club. I hope they're still there since I want to play again. Hopefully tomorrow I get to go and play.

Golf. Naaah, just kidding. Maybe 5 or 10 years from now. Who knows?

Since I still need to help with the baby I have to limit myself to at most, 2 activities a week. It's just a matter of prioritizing which one to go for.

Of course laziness-level is a determining factor if I go or not. Last night I forced myself to workout with the missus' walker-equipment. I opened the garage cabinet, saw the walker, and looked at it for the longest time.

Nakakatamad buhatin.

So I closed the cabinet, went back up the house and just passed the time on the laptop....with the missus' sauna belt of course.

Tinamad eh.

Please?

The Chinese engineer is at it again with his "exemplary" writing skills.

Here's his latest email:

"...engineer helped us to do it.I will please Mark to add it again."

Hmmm....

Lucas @ 6 weeks

The word CUTE doesn't even begin to describe this shot that I took this morning.

More pics here.

Leave A Tender Moment Alone

I was going to do some surfing with our laptop when I chanced upon these two fuzzy "animals" having a tender moment.


Nope, I didn't place them there on purpose.

Spooky.

King Cobra

Just one of the reasons why Eat Bulaga is unbeatable.

Being Frank

This was an email sent by one of our Pinoy engineers to one of the Chinese vendor-engineers:

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

But you need to be clear and describe exactly why the platform is rejecting a normal message.

IMPORTANT NOTE: PLEASE COMMUNICATE VIA EMAIL. I AM SORRY BUT I DON'T UNDERSTAND YOUR ENGLISH BY PHONE. ALWAYS, THERE IS A LOT OF INTERFERENCE.

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

Note that a lot of people were copied in this email. Kawawa naman yung Intsik. Kaso eh di daw talaga maintindihan yung English eh. Biglang-bawi na lang yung noypi nung dinagdagan nya ng “interference” sa huli.

I think the interference that he was referring to is the accent. Hehe.

The Pregnant Man

Is this for real?

S.M.

Yes, I've started working again. It's a big leap from my previous one in terms of position so I just can't help but double-click on my name on the email recipient-list every now and then just to see my title, just to be sure that I'm not dreaming.

An S.M. at 32?

Not too shabby. ;-)

Sarrrrrap

Fatherhood

It's been a week since I've arrived from KL and I just have to say that being with the missus and my son has been overwhelmingly fantastic.

Changing his diapers, feeding him, burping him, and cuddling him to sleep have been such arduous but rewarding tasks ---for the missus. I have to admit that since I arrived I've, pardon the pun, been sleeping like a baby all night, unaware of Lucas' demands for milk and diaper-change. The missus was kind enough to let me catch my Zzzs while she wakes up for almost 2-3 times a night to heed my son's call.

I've only started to learn the above tasks for the past 3 days now. Even my 11 year telecom working experience meant nothing when it came to such a simple task as changing diapers. At first glance it looked simple. But when I tried it on Lucas it wasn't as easy as it looked. A certified engineer slash board-passer doesn't know how to put a diaper? That's right folks. But at my 2nd attempt I was successful. Now I can say it's definitely a cinch, as long as he's not crying, hehe.

Who would've thought that such a simple piece of compiled cotton can hold an enormous amount of pee and sh*t! How times have changed. I find it really amazing ---and smelly.

But besides the smells and the occasional cries, I can now agree to what most of my friends say. That it is such a wonderful feeling to have a child. Just holding him in my arms while he tries to visualize this other pair of eyes looking at him, singing to him a tirade of light-rock oldies such as "Father and Son" with missed lyrics is such an amazing, A-M-A-Z-I-N-G feeling.

Priceless.

Jesus, St. Jude, and I (The Conclusion)

"There was another passenger earlier who was rejected by Immigration since she had no clearance-letter. I’m afraid I cannot book you on this flight.”

Several images crossed my mind the moment I heard this:

I could be checking-in at the Pan Pacific Hotel nearby the airport, wait for Monday and hopefully things get sorted out with Immigration;

OR

I try the airport-immigration and when they find that I’ve no clearance-letter, they shove me into the immigration office, get interrogated, and possibly jailed for trying to leave the country without their clearance.

But then I thought, I’m a Filipino. We are known to be more astig than the locals wherever we may be. “Unahan lang sa sindak yan,” a colleague in Singapore once told me. So, I took a deep breath and said to the lady at the check-in counter:

“NO! That letter is not needed! Immigration has already rescheduled my visa-expiry to an earlier date so that means they have checked and found nothing pending from my end.”

She paused, lifted her landline, and called to whom I assumed to be her manager. She then covered the mouthpiece and told me,

“Here’s what you can do. I will book you BUT I will not check-in your baggages for an hour. That will be enough time for me to assume that immigration has ok’ed you to travel.”

I agreed. I would have to proceed immediately to immigration which meant skipping my intended McDo breakfast meal (darn).

On my way to the escalator leading down to immigration, I was getting worried. “What if I get rejected and sent back? I would have to stay here over the weekend?” I told myself.

In that moment, I remembered St. Jude.

It was on the previous night when I was packing all the rest of our stuff from the condo that I came upon a stampita of St. Jude. At the back it said something like, Patron of Lost Causes. I never gave that much notice as I put it in one of my baggages until now. This seems to be classified as a lost cause, so why not try?

So as I was walking, I called on St. Jude to intercede for this no hope situation. “I sure hope he’s listening,” I thought.

The immigration-queue was fairly light. Not too many passengers traveling at lunch time since most of the flights are in the morning. I was in a queue with around 10 people with a tourist-couple at the front, seemingly unaware that one of the immigration officers was calling them to his counter so that the queue could move.

Seeing that the officer failed in calling the couple, I called the attention of the couple and pointed them to the waiting officer. They looked and went. The officer gave me a “thank you” look. Finally! The queue was moving and my fate was about to be determined.

Since there were 3 counters serving the queue, the choice of going to a particular officer was random. Then my turn came, and I was lucky to be put into where the tourist-couple went earlier.

I showed him my passport and browsed through the pages. “Don’t look at my visa!” I shouted to him in my mind, hoping he’ll hear. He found the visa-page of course. Then, as he was about to ask me something which I assumed to be asking for my immigration-letter, a female-colleague of his passed by and greeted him who seemed to have asked when he’ll finish his shift. This somehow lost his train of thought. He totally forgot about what he was supposed to ask and with his right hand, grabbed the immigration stamp.

THUD.

A stamp on the immigration card.

THUD.

A stamp on my passport.

He signed on both stamps and handed me my passport. I was free to travel.

I thanked the officer and, in tradition to my Dad’s PR skills, I asked him how long has he been working on his shift.

“12 hours,” he said, his eyes showing bags wanting to release sand-dust of sleep.

“I think you better go home. Get some rest.”

“Yes I will. Tired already lah.”

I said goodbye to him and passed the immigration counters. It felt like a big burden has been lifted. Never have I been so relieved to have passed by airport-immigration in my entire life!

These past two weeks have been hell alright. Malaysia must’ve been going to miss me so much that she pulled all the stops to make me stay. Of course, Manila is where I want to be.

There was one final issue 2 hours before my flight: I had 400 ringgit worth of notes in my wallet that had to be left behind, and a hungry stomach that needed to be fed.

Next stop: Duty-free shopping and Sbarro’s.

Jesus, St. Jude, and I

The past two weeks have been hectic for me. It seems that there was a connivance in the heavens to play a practical joke on me, which wanted to scare me with the thought that I may not go home.

Episode #1.

I had already found a buyer to whom I will sell my trusty car through an officemate's recommendation. My heart sank though as I checked our apartment-mailbox the next day when I found 2 police-summons sent to my old residence indicated that MY car was involved in an accident last March and that the other party is claiming for damages.

This was preposterous of course, as I told the missus on the phone that we were never at the mentioned area at that date/time. And besides, there was not a scratch on my car which indicated my innocence. Anyway, together with an officemate slash police-by-night officer, I went to the KL police station to find out what's going on. It turns out that the "intelligent" police-officer at the scene of the accident had written down the correct license plate of the offending party on his report (3687) but f*cked up when he transfered the car details to the computer-system to issue the summon (3867 ---my car). May I add that the offending vehicle indicated in his original report showed "BUS" as its description. Although my mother's brother and father are certified pro-drivers of the Martinez Bus Company that runs from Manila to Ilocos Sur, I have NEVER driven a bus in my life!

My car was cleared of course, but as you know there was a 50-ringgit "under the table" fee to speed things up. Darn it! Ako na nga naabala ako pa nagbayad. Siya dapat yung nagbayad sakin eh.

Episode #2.

I had an orbibike exercise machine that needed to be disposed since shipping it to Manila may cost more than the original value of the machine itself. So I sold it to another officemate at a dead-cheap price (80% loss on my part, in fact). Since the machine could not fit in her car I volunteered to deliver the thing to her place which I absolutely had NO IDEA how to go to. So she made a sketch on a piece of A4 and I went.

It was night and it was dark. Road signs were barely noticeable that I missed the exit to her place. I saw the sign too late but I stopped on the highway, and, seeing that there were absolutely no cars behind me I hit the gear to "R" and backed up at 80kmh to the exit lane with my hazard lights on. I thought I made the great escape when I was back on the right track when 2 motorcycle-clad police-officers chased me and pulled me over.

"Give me your license"

"Sorry sir it was dark and I got scared that I might get lost! (showing the map-sketch) I wanted to exit at this lane but I passed it."

(officer looks at the sketch, and, realizing that moi speak no Malay) "OK follow me I'll take you here."

"Here" was not I assumed to be. "Here" was the POLICE STATION.

"Sh*t!!! T*ngina ano na naman ang ginawa mo?!?!?! P*tang*na namaaaan!" I said to my idiot self as I followed the police officer to the station. I was already picturing myself behind bars crying for mercy like that old OFW commercial:

"IBALIK NYO NA AKO SA PILIPINAS!!!"

At the police station, four uniformed officers stood outside the entrance and met up with me. I showed them my Malaysian driving license which incidentally was inserted in my LTO casing that included my Philippine license.

"Youuu Filipino?"

"Yes."

"This is Malaysia. You're driving in Philippines cannot be done here."

"Sorry sir it was dark and I got scared that I may get lost....(excuses excuses excuses...)"

"No! I will give you police-summon!"

I realized that if he gave me a summon, I might not be able to sell my car. At that moment, I remembered my Dad.

Dad is a living example of how to use PR skills to your advantage. One shining example is how he had helped me get my 1st POEA Exit Pass. I was flying off to Malaysia in a few days but the govt. will not allow me fly without an Exit Pass. This usually takes 1-2 weeks. With my Dad and his PR skills, it took me 1 day. No he didn't know anyone at POEA. He just had the guts to enter the restricted areas and talk to the officer-in-charge and somehow found a way to speed up my application.

So with that in mind, I said to the police officers in a Malaysian accent:

"No no no don't give me summon! Maybe we can discuss this. (excuses excuses...afraid of the dark....excuses blah blah blah...boring the officers...blah blah blah...)"

When suddenly one of the four retorted, "OK go back (home)."

"Huh?" I said.

"Go back. We only give you warning. Go back."

"Jumping Jupiters Batman," I thought. It worked! I had managed to escape a summon and possible fine that I would've had trouble selling the car. As those Christian Ministers on Sunday TV would say, "Thank You Je-sus!"

Episode #3.

It was Friday 9am. I was at the KL airport excited to go home but at the same time partly sad leaving Malaysia. Three and a half years here man. Going back to Manila to start all over is like going to another foreign country and readjusting. All these thoughts were in mind as I passed my passport and plane ticket to the lady behind the Malaysia-Airlines check-in counter.

"Do you have a return ticket to KL?"

"No. I'm going back to Manila for good."

"Where is your immigration clearance letter?"

"My what?"

"Your immigration clearance letter?"

"Sorry I don't have that."

"Then I cannot book you."


(Itutuloy)

My farewell email

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

Hi,

Today is my last day working for M and my last day here in Malaysia.

I am forever grateful for having met and worked with you for the past three and a half years.

AK will be taking over as Head of CNO-IN/VASP so do contact him if you need any assistance.

I wish you all the best in your endeavors.

Thank you very much.

Best regards.

RGP

“Man's main task in life is to give birth to himself, to become what he potentially is.” ---Erich Fromm

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

Nanay Ko Yan

From today's issue of the PDI Metro Section:

------------------------------------------------------

Protest rally greets new PNU president
Failure to meet standards cited
By Tina Santos
Inquirer
Last updated 00:23am (Mla time) 06/28/2006

Published on Page A21 of the June 28, 2006 issue of the Philippine Daily Inquirer

SEVERAL faculty members and students of the state-run Philippine Normal University (PNU) yesterday held a rally to voice their displeasure over the appointment of lawyer Lutgardo Barbo as their new president, saying he had failed to meet some of the minimum standards set for the post.

Students, teachers and administrative staffers wore black shirts as they held a rally and noise barrage inside the PNU campus on Taft Avenue, Manila to question the decision of the eight-member Board of Regents (BOR), the university’s highest policy-making body. Black pieces of cloth and a streamer with the message “No to politics, yes to merit” were hung from one of the buildings.

The BOR had chosen Barbo, a former governor of Eastern Samar, over four other nominees—Dr. Esther Ogena, Dr. Twila Punsalan, Dr. Rosa Maria Llanes and Dr. Carolina Danao. The protesters claimed that Barbo’s name should not have been included in the final list of three candidates submitted by the search committee.

“We were surprised to find out that he got the position when in fact, he ranked last among the five candidates,” said Felice Yeban, a Department of Social Sciences professor. “He does not even have a minimum of five years of administrative experience in teacher education or related fields,” she added.

The Inquirer tried but failed to reach Barbo for comment.

-----------------------------------------------

Evening KL Drive

I was driving from KL to meet my futsal friends who were giving me a farewell dinner. Since they knew that I was a self-proclaimed Bah Kuh Teh connosieur, they took me to a BKT shop in Old Klang Road. It was not as great as the one that me and the missus go for every Sunday but the setup was nice since there were veggies and mushroom sidings that came with the meat. Ang difference lang naman eh yung sabaw di kasing-lapot nung nasa Klang. Evertything else was ok.

Since traffic was very tight during the rush hour, I managed to scramble for my cam-phone and take pictures of some of the KL sites that I've frequented (yup traffic was that jammed).

I think when I look at these pics months from now I'll just sigh and say, "Been there, done that."


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