Love, Pain, and Becoming a Light

Having experienced my first break up after just three months of dating made me question many things about life and love. Before falling hard for the first man to ever sweep me off my feet, I used to think that love is something that will be a tough challenge because it would entail sacrifice, lots of it, but that the rewards will be more than what you would expect. With that belief, no matter how difficult it is to love someone whose intentions eventually  became blurry and muddled, I carried on loving him, fighting those ugly thoughts in my head, fighting against myself for feeling neglected. I chose to love and trust him with all my heart although it was hard because everything would always catch me by surprise. For love, I chose not to listen to my gut feel. I chose to meet the trust he gave me. (Although truth be told, I had a lot of misgivings. In essence, I had to battle it out with my fears that one day he would just leave me behind.)

Once he asked what my gut feel tells me about him. I sensed a terribly wounded man whose inner goodness has been shrouded by layers of pain and sadness. For some reason, I decided to stick with him, to share my world with him. In a span of just three months, I welcomed him into my life, the life I have come to build alone after years of devastation and self-doubt. I can say that it is far from perfect yet because I haven't moved on completely from my loss last year. I thought that maybe if I were to heal a person, maybe I could find complete healing, too. He was rarely sweet, but I was happy whenever we were together. For a while I was reminded of the happiness in life. Life exploded with colors but those colors quickly disappeared when he became distant, when he started to push me away (although he denies doing so) and I, naive and ignorant, did not know how to handle the situation. To me, the message was "You are not welcome in my life. Leave me alone."

The five day challenge in March proved to be helpful. It made me take a glimpse of what to expect should I enter into a relationship with him. It was a challenge I was able to overcome, but that was because our relationship was just starting. Not that much invested feelings yet.

Tears started to flow early in May, just when I was feeling loved and just when I thought this will be serious. I thought it would be the end, that he would end things with me because of his past which he assumed I wouldn't accept. A whole loadshit of baggage waiting to be unloaded. It was a fragile moment, a major decision for me. But it wasn't because of that that I felt hurt. The pain that pierced me stemmed from the feeling that he didn't trust me at all to have hidden that from me. I cried for two days and only stopped when people were being funny and laughing was hard to resist. I was reminded of the beauty of the world, that this is just one speck of the world's many problems and I should nit feel so bad because others have had it worse.

So I accepted him, hoping he would work hard for our relationship to blossom again. But things have changed. Maybr it was also the wrong timing. But it seemed I have not totally gotten past my initial heartbreak. I became insecure, I sought his "I love you's" but resisted so hard to nag. All the resistance came undone with just one question from him. That question unleashed all the pent up negative feelings inside which I thought I could control but turns out I am just an ordinary girl who can only hold in so much. What came was domino effect. I felt unappreciated and unaccepted. I found myself asking if the golden rule is even true. We both know our differences yet we entered into a relationship. But that question made me realize that differences could wreak havoc in our lives. I have always thought that we could fight for each other, that that was already implicit when we decided to be exclusive. I was wrong.

Then came the blaming and hurling of unkind words. After only two months, the romance stopped. I struggle to this day to understand why he entered my peaceful life only to disrupt it. On second thought maybe I was to blame for not being able to give him what he wants. Or maybe we both have expectations we never communicated and we acted on assumptions only, not knowing that what we offered were not what was needed. We failed to communicate effectively even though at the onset I suggested that we practice having open comms because we both suck at mind games (or maybe that was only me?)

Just this Thursday, I used my break to nap but ended up crying inside the room, taking advantage of the fact that nobody else was inside. Prior to that, I have cried in small amounts. That time was the worst because I thought if my heart would stop beating from too much pain, I would be found there unconscious, or probably with no life.

Thoughts ran inside my head. I wouldn't be okay without him (to answer one of his questions). It could have been better if he told me he doesn't want me anymore because I am blah blah blah so I can just move on and just hope to find someone who can appreciate and accept me for who I am. But he made it sound as if we were just victims of circumstances before which we are hopeless. And that's the hardest part, because moving on is next to impossible. You ask yourself if, when he said "I love you" did he really mean it? Was everything just a game? Did he get that satisfaction out of hurting a person whom many people admire and like but who has never been in a relationship before? I felt played on by someone who regards feelings as if they are mere commodities. Did he get a kick out of making a "strange and different" girl fall in love with him just to break her heart?

On the other hand, whenever I look back to the recent months, i could honestly say that he loved me, that he tried to also fight. But why is he giving up now? What do I have to do to prove that I am a totally different person? That I am not someone who will just turn around and leave when things get ugly. And I go back to questioning if he really trusted me all this time.

I refuse to believe the idea that you let go of a person because you love him/her. If you truly see your future with him/her, do you let go? Of course not! That's just a lousy excuse to make it seem like you are not a jerk. When you find the one you're looking for, you fight hard, work hard, love hard. Even though it hurts. Even though it breaks every fiber of your being. The world can judge you for being "weak" but it is only in loving a person with all your heart and with all your soul that you will find your salvation. When two people are truly in love with each other, they will never let go no matter what. They will take each other's hands and weather through everything.

"I hope you can handle the truth, that I am not meant for you because of my flaws."

The flaws I accepted in him, the flaws I have come to love. Only it doesn't matter now because he has let go of my hand.

Is it because I am too emotional? Because I cry easily? Even strong girls cry. I cry when I watch a good movie or read a very good book even if it's not drama. I cry when I glimpse beauty. I cry over the people I love, the very few people I can love. I cry when I know he is suffering and is in pain. I wouldn't want him to make a painful choice so I will force myself to accept his decision. Lastly I cry for myself, because I am just human and the heart can be fragile.

Now it becomes clear to me why the word for love in Chinese is also the word for pain. 疼 can mean both "to care for" and "to ache". Love and pain are intertwined. You cannot love without experiencing pain. Also, if it hurts, it's because you loved.

Why is it so easy for people to just discard relationships as if feelings do not matter. Why is it that "work it out" is no longer the norm? I used to believe in true love, looking to my grandparents' story for inspiration. Theirs was fraught with difficulties, but they overcame everything. They loved only once in their lifetime and carried it until the end. Is the world too f*ucked up to have people hurting each other the norm? Whatever happened to love, trust, integrity, compassion?

So I guess the world is indeed f*cked up.  But I don't want to live in a cold heartless world. So I choose to tread the path less travelled, to be a light that can endure burning, to love with so much tenderness and fierceness still. One day I will wake up a blank slate, the past behind me. When that day comes, I know that I will ever be more ready to face life's worse challenges.

Doors

Early this week, as I walked home late at night after a tiring day, I saw visions of doors, some slightly ajar, most closed, one slowly closing. It was a dark place and I felt the need to run after that door that was closing in slow motion. But no matter how fast I tried to run, I couldn't seem to close the distance between us. It was a quick vision and I hurried home, fearful for what might happen to me while out in the streets at night.

Yesterday was her first death anniversary. I cried as I looked back on what happened last year, how I was filled with regrets and guilt because I was not sure if I had shown her sufficiently how much I loved her. At random moments of my life, I would tell her to come away with me and my sisters. I wanted just the four of us together and I would imagine that we would have a peaceful life. That didn't happen. My sisters refused. Still I hoped so much that when she reaches old age, I would be there to care for her, just as she had cared so much for me when I was an infant.

Then yesterday, there was one more reason to cry although I tried to control my tears. A wanted us to break up. I could imagine him getting tired and sick of the pressures surrounding him more so now when he is busy at work. Since Ramadhan started, he has told me little by little about these. I was confused and hurt, because I knew what was coming even before he asked me "would you be okay without me?" this week. Maybe it is a blessing to have this little gift of presience, to somehow cushion the impact.

I couldn't give a definite answer. It was a scary proposition. I know he has our best interests in mind, but I know that once we give up on each other, it will be the end.

More than ever, he emphasized our differences. We both knew. We have discussed these prior to us getting serious. But it should happen that things will get more difficult. This early, I have already cried an ocean of tears. I do not want to lose him, and I hate myself for being too proud. There are many things I have been doing for our sake which he knows nothing about because I do not want to disappoint him in case I fail. But I guess it is too late now.

Exactly a year after I lost an important person, I would experience the same now. That door that was slowly closing, I do not know if it will really close. I feel like I am transported back to my three year old self when I threw tantrums and cried so hard pleading the Light not to leave me when she tried to go on a vacation.

Even if doors open for me, I doubt if I can have the heart to enter new ones. His will forever be the one for me. When I knew him, I know that I must not leave him. There is the feeling that everything will not turn out right if we get separated. But if he is the one leaving, then there is nothing I can do. It will be difficult, I do not know what will happen next. The door is closing and I couldn't reach it.

2015 Week 51

The week prior, we have been complaining about the heat. This week, there was too much rainfall because of two typhoons that entered PAR. All this as the COP21 was happening in Paris and the leaders are leaving the indigenous peoples out of the picture in the discussions on global warming mitigation.

In the two weeks of continuous discussions and negotiations, a big flood in the Southern Indian city of Chennai claimed 300 lives and destroyed both residential and commercial structures. This should be an important lesson for humanity and everyone should be extra mindful of how humans are contributing to the gradual destruction of the earth. 

It reminds me of the seminar I attended two weeks before where a presenter passionately argued against geoengineering saying that while it is a brilliant idea in the history of human civilization, we should look more to natural ways because in the long run, it is only nature's own devices which will be for the best. This echoes my firm belief in Mother Nature's self-healing methods so upon hearing those words of hers, I almost cried at the thought that finally, an architect who understands the dynamics between nature and the built environment!

The rainfall in recent days caused many to question why we are experiencing typhoons in December, an occurrence that never happened before. Now if only people were closing in on the climate talks instead of being preoccupied with Aldub and other showbiz nonsense! (*Facepalm) 

On the 15th, just coming from an almost-fever after exhausting myself in Laguna last weekend, I found myself braving the icky floods in Balintawak after attending the first of the series of Simbang Gabi this year. It already sucks going home wet but it sucks even more to see your favorite green pants suddenly turn into yellowish brown because of the floodwaters. Sigh! People in the Philippines are too conscious of their personal hygiene but cannot go beyond their bodies. The environment suffers as a result of wanton garbage disposal. I don't know if I have any right to complain since I do not partake of any actions to educate the stupid masses of the importance of keeping the surroundings clean. On the other hand, shouldn't it be first the government, second the school's responsibility to do that??? And another voice inside my head cynically retorts that since when can we rely on the government to mobilize the masses for a common good? And schools nowadays have become factories of certificates and have stopped being institutions of real learning.

[Allow me to insert one of my favorite paragraphs in Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance by Robert Pirsig, a book that I almost dropped off my to-read list until I browsed the latter pages and found interesting takes on real education among other philosophical musings:

 "The real University, he said, has no specific location. It owns no property, pays no salaries and receives no material dues. The real University is a state of mind. It is that great heritage of rational thought that has been brought down to us through the centuries and which does not exist at any specific location. It's a state of mind which is regenerated throughout the centuries by a body of people who traditionally carry the title of professor, but even that title is not part of the real University. The real University is nothing less than the continuing body of reason itself.

"But this second university, the legal corporation, cannot teach, does not generate new knowledge or evaluate ideas. It is not the real University at all. It is just a church building, the setting, the location at which conditions have been made favorable for the real church to exist." ]

And there are so many problems in this world that we need to address. So many intertwined problems, a hypernetwork of problems that we inherited from the previous generations whose lack of foresight made the world what it is today. [And the relationships among these problems are so convoluted I always get a headache thinking about them and how to address them.] So it shall fall on today's generation to undo all these shit, which is next to impossible so the only recourse is to be less of a burden to the world and be more of a good example for others. Except, when you exhibit qualities and possess opinions different from the masses, you will be treated with contempt and ridicule. In moments like this, I am always reminded of the cruel fate my favorite PH hero Antonio Luna suffered, at the hands of fellow [read: STUPID, SELFISH, PRETENTIOUS] Filipinos no less.

So I rant again... Just yesterday we were finally done with the team Christmas party. Thank God for that. And I got what I wrote down in my wishlist: a copy of Ang Diablo sa Filipinas, originally by Isabelo delos Reyes and translated into English and Filipino. One of the translators was Benedict Anderson whose work Under Three Flags was a treasure I found in one of the libraries in UP and which I read for PI 100 class even though it was not part of the required readings. (Because I was so poor I couldn't afford to have photocopies of the required readings...) He died just last December 13, so God bless his soul.

Candles and Visions

Do not read this if you are fearful of dark prophecies. You have been warned.

One late afternoon last month, I was invited to a post-outreach dinner by the organizer and his childhood friend. At 5:40 they were chatting with and/or texting me it would be at 6PM. Not wanting to be the cause of delay (God knows how moods change when one's hungry!), I prepped up in just a few minutes and asked my mom who was also leaving to do some shopping to drop me off at the church.

Mass had started when I arrived. I stayed there and just informed them I'd be attending mass. Wise decision because I would learn later on that the organizer's car was affected by the color coding scheme and so he will only be able to travel past 7PM.

I don't know why I stayed. I had turned on my mobile data connection to chat with a fellow volunteer who lives nearby and he advised me not to be a martyr, get my ass off where I was seated and go home. I was complaining to him then about how boys are jerks because they always make girls wait. Okay. Scratch that. They always make THIS girl wait. Soon enough memories of boys asking me out and they'd be the ones to be late filled me with contempt for the opposite sex. They know how preoccupied I am with a lot of stuffs and they couldn't even respect my time.

Then again something pulled me to an area in the church: the candles. 

In one of my travels for cultural heritage, a fellow volunteer told me that when it's your first time to visit a church and you make a wish, that wish will come true. That gave me hope, for all my naiveté and all too trusting nature, I visited as many churches as I could to wish for the Light to be healed.

Another volunteer told me that it's always nice to light up candles where the flame has gone out, for the prayers of those who originally lighted them to be sent to the Heavens. So that time, while waiting, I watched the candles glow and flicker as the final electric lights were being turned off until it was dark save for the light from these candles.

As the winds picked up and were putting out flames, I contemplated about what would happen to the world if the lights are gone? Then a vision, of flames going out, "like an army falling one by one by one" (to quote Linkin Park). 

Yesterday I learned of a scary vision. And I immediately thought of the images that flashed before me while I stared at the candles that time.

And then there was the number 24... (but I cannot go on further. This is the biggest clue in the puzzle.)

Sto. Domingo Church

And so lately I have been finding refuge in Sto. Domingo Church.

Two days after her demise, I visited her wake with two missions--- to ensure that all of her valued things are placed in a bag to be entombed together with the coffin on the day of her burial, and to digitize photos for submission for her wake's video. Probably because there were a lot of things to do, it felt as if she were still with us. 

June 26, a highschool friend invited me to watch Rak of Aegis in PETA Theater. I asked her if she could first help me drop the two boxes of milk I solicited from workmates at Sto. Domingo Church. She agreed.

Last Sunday, June 27, was the interment of my yaya's body. My sisters and I headed to Taytay to pay our final respects to the woman who chose to stay with us even though ours is a difficult family. We waited for the tomb to be cemented and all until we left and it was already late in the afternoon when we had our lunch somewhere near Sta. Lucia East Grand Mall. Traffic was heavy so we opted to stop by a Pares canteen.

Then I commuted to Sto. Domingo Church while my sisters went straight home. Volunteers were repacking school materials for the schoolchildren of Mindoro and Zambales. I said I wouldn't be able to go because I was still hurting except I didn't tell them that I've been thinking about how a person can give so much and yet in the end she is taken for granted. But I guess something in the church was drawing me to it. 

Mass was being said when I got there but I headed straight to the toilet to relieve myself first. Then mass, where I got teary-eyed. "What is the cause of death?" the priest asks rhetorically. How apt to talk about death and sin.

After mass, I went to my favorite place, except that people was crowding the place and I couldn't enjoy the beautiful solitude I experienced days prior when the boys whom I have become fond of made me wait for 2 hours. So I just lighted 10 candles, said a quick prayer and then off to where the volunteers were repacking things.

They were just about to finish. I did help in cleaning. It was of course insubstantial and I was a bit ashamed to be there just when they were wrapping up.

Today I delivered the final box of milk. It was about to rain when I left the office and thank God it didn't end up in heavy downpour. Heavy heavy load. A kind stranger offered to carry the box for me as I climbed the stairs of the footbridge but I graciously declined and thanked him for the offer. Made me think about how poor I am at asking for help from people. I tend to just rely on myself. Probably the reason why men aren't too happy with me. Friends say I must learn how to be weak sometimes. But to that I say, I don't want to have the habit of having someone to rely onto. I'm comfortable doing things on my own. [Okaaaaaay, insert Eagles' Desperado here...]

I prayed the rosary. And the tears, how they flowed. I remember back in April last year when I attended mass all alone in the same church and it was weird and awkward to suddenly be crying. I felt all alone then. Now I cry even more, because the Light is gone now. And well, just yesterday I received the news that a dear UP prof died of cardiac arrest. He was never my prof but I met him when I went with his photojournalism class to Puerto Galera. He became an instant idol, a very very BIG man with a BIG heart and BIG talents. He's one of a kind, with his crazy sunglasses and super pout which became part of his signature look in his photos. He was someone I looked up to a lot to the point that I wanted to be like him. [And I think I'm doing a good job now... I hope.]

So I prayed for them both. Prayed hard for the eternal repose of their souls, that they may finally find peace and happiness.

And I also prayed for myself, that I may find the courage to live up to the standards I have set for myself. I know that I'm being too hard on myself but I wanted to make them proud as they watch over us from Heaven.

The Day You Went Away Forever: June 24, 2015

Exactly three months ago, you left me. I hope I don't sound like you wanted to. Nobody wanted that to happen, but it seemed to be for the best. Just how can you rest well when you are constantly worried about us, about me in particular?

Yesterday afternoon I was happily on my way to see you, to deliver a potential cure that I got from one of the organizers of a volunteer project. My patience ran out as usual while being stuck in traffic. It was past 6pm and I still was far from you.

Then my sister called to deliver the news. I was surprised not to be surprised. Thoughts ran I my head. Where did I go wrong? Guilt, that ugly feeling, crept in.

I began recounting the many opportunities I had to visit you again but I chose not to because I believed in indulging myself. Maybe I spoiled myself far too much. Two weeks ago I was in the Mountain Province. The weekdays that followed were spent with a boy whom I met there. He was going back abroad for work and requested to spend time with me. I obliged because he seems like a nice boy and there's no harm in gaining a new friend. Just this weekend, I went hiking and then attended a memorial for a great grand aunt to whom I wasn't even close to. The day before, I had my much-needed self-date and watched "Stand By Me Doraemon", something I have been looking forward to since last year.

Did you think that I forgot about you or that I completely left you for a chance to go to the US? You were part of the reason why I stayed, to give you that extra moral boost when I visit you from time to time. I don't know if it works but I hope you know that you can always count on me and on my sisters. Were you sick and tired of waiting for me since it had been more than 2 weeks since I last visited? Did you give up all hope?

The moment I found out, I couldn't even cry. I thought I was past the blaming game. But everything floods in again and I couldn't help but be angered at how things turned out because of wrong decisions. And then that sad feeling that everything is fleeting. It reminded me of what I felt back when I lost grandpa and great grandma. No tears, no cries, just plain sadness, my senses heightened that the soft breeze seemed like a warm loving embrace.

I was still lucky to have seen your final state before you were transferred to the funeral parlor. Your mouth was open. They say it means you were waiting for someone. I wondered if it was me. But I was disappointed to learn that it wasn't. You were muttering the names of your siblings, they say. I wonder if in your last dying breath you thought of me, how your little girl is gping to cope with your departure. But it doesn't matter now. I am happy that you no longer suffer now. I hope you rest in perpetual peace and bliss.

A candle for the Light

The pain is slowly sinking in as I write. It's close to 2AM and normally I would have gone off to sleep but I couldn't. I want to write this as tribute to you.

I am sorry for the times when I broke your heart. I was such a stupid selfish brat. I still am but slowly working on it. If only I could turn back time and if only I was sweeter to you, kinder, gentler... Despite all my shortcomings you have always been there. I want to thank you for that, from the bottom of my heart.

You have been a Doraemon to this stupid Nobita. I wish you will still stand by me in spirit and watch over me.

Third Visit

So last week I was able to visit her again. The moment I stepped inside her niece's house, I saw her smile which almost got me to tears. She was able to talk without much difficulty now, unlike in my previous visits when she would just stare at me and move her head to answer yes/no questions. Before, I would just talk to her niece for updates, what she's eating, how many times a day she's eating, any changes in her overall situation, etc.

But this time, she was remarkably happy. She has just taken a sponge bath when I arrived. And I don't know why but maybe there's a mix of relief that our efforts are bearing fruits, that maybe there is still hope after all... I couldn't stop tears from falling down my cheeks.

It felt so awkward because I'm always known as a strong person. I seldom cry in public. I NEVER want to cry in public. But that time was different. I choked up on words as I tried to stop crying but let it go anyway and what the heck, never mind what she or her niece says. Sometimes when emotions are repressed, you can only hold them in for long and you'll eventually burst. I think that's what happened.

And I cried even after I went out of their house, while I crossed the bridge to get to the tricycle terminal. Lucky me the sun was already setting and I just wished people would be too busy to notice my tear-stained face. While inside the tricycle, a girl sat beside me but luckily she never as took a second look at me and the motor was noisy so I had the privilege to cry out my heart.

Except that even when I transferred to a jeepney tears still wouldn't stop. I was so embarrassed the whole time but I got lucky when I was on my way to Trinoma to meet up with my sister. Of course, I wouldn't want her to see me crying, too. Talk about pride... LOL. So while inside the bus, my emotions finally subsided and I calmed down. Whew!

My sister treated me to Pho Hoa, one of our favorite restaurants. Without second thought we ordered our favorite beef noodles and fresh spring rolls. YUM! I'm always amazed at how food, especially those that I love, can change one's moods and create a happy feeling inside one's being.

Mother's Day 2015

The first week of May I suddenly had the urge to visit the light of my life and I knew better than ignore the call. I always believe in following the dictates of the heart even if reason is against it. 

So I visited her and was aghast at how thin she is now. She looked so much like an aunt who thinned down a lot despite being a huge eater. And now both sport the same short haircut. The first thing her niece who is now taking care of her said to me is that she is dying.

I am not surprised, but it felt sad hearing that from another person. I learned that her body developed four cancer types: breast, stomach, lungs, and bone. I am not surprised. I have long suspected that cancer has spread and I have begun suspecting she has stomach cancer when she started everything she ingests.

I can still remember the stories they told me when I arrived from my second Pulag climb in January this year. My sisters, mom, and the Light all went to Quirino Grand Stand to join the massive crowd that welcomed Pope Francis. One of my sisters almost fainted so she just spent the rest of the day at a Starbucks café while the three drowned in the sea of people hoping to catch a glimpse of the Pope. They say they walked quite a distance from where they parked the car. The heavens even rained hard on them but their faith kept them out in the open.

A week after that, on the last week of January, we received news of her daughter's death. She traveled a long distance, 12 hours at least, to get to her daughter's wake and arrange for the funeral. While in the province, we would hear about how stressed she is because apparently the family of her daughter's husband is trying to get her money using her daughter's death as justification. I just couldn't believe that people like that exist! Even the Light's natural grandchildren do not care for her and only remember her when they need money.

I knew from back then that in case she is retiring I will cut her off from these beasts and will provide for her. Unfortunately the diseases came like a swift ambush in the night. She grew quiet and pensive when she got back, refusing to eat most times and preferring to stay inside her room. Depression must have crept in at the loss of her only daughter. But we, my sisters and I couldn't break in. She built a barrier around herself that's too hard to penetrate. Sweet talk won't even work.

But because nobody's home most of the time and everybody else is busy, we were relieved to hear that a relative, her niece, is willing to take her in. The Light's eldest grandson came to Manila and we assumed he would take care of his lola while the two lived in the Light's niece's house. We even gave him some money as allowance before we parted ways, driving the Light with him to the niece's house. The following day, we were shocked beyond words that this grandson packed his bags and left for his province, despite the Light's pleas not to leave her. 

I cannot fathom how people can be this cruel. I cannot help but judge. It breaks my heart knowing this, for I know how deeply hurt she is at this final betrayal. Her grandchildren who never even sent SMS to her on her birthday and only do so when they ask for money which their grandmother would send to them, these same grandchildren whom I even once said to myself that I will help send to school when the Light retires (but now I am retracting after seeing this evil)... I do not know how they were raised by their parents. It angers me to see them so ungrateful and so oblivious of the many sacrifices their lola has gone through for them.

Her sad story, a cautionary tale, makes me cry everytime I remember the events that lead to the day of our separation. It felt unfair to be unable to do something for the one you love and all you can do is to cry, as if tears can do something to make the situation better. 

As I gently touched her on my last visit, ever so gently for fear I do harm on her fragile body, I had to fight hard not to cry. At this point the last thing I want is for her to see me cry. She's seen me cry far too many times all these years and I wouldn't want her to get stressed with me now.So I had to leave early, lest tears flow freely and unable to stop.

The days leading to Mother's Day saw me looking for the photos of us together. There is one photo in particular which I love: the one wherein she wore a fashionable dress in way back in late 80s and holding me on the table. She looked like a mother to me in that photo. But I failed to find it. (Just how useless can I get?)

So I will just try to remember the other details and hopefully sketch the photo from memory.

The Day You Went Away: MARCH 24, 2015

Yesterday marks a sad event in my life. The week before, before I left for Bohol, plans of you leaving us, leaving me, reached me. The suddenness of the events that followed the passing away of your daughter has really affected me after all, through you who have grown frail and weak. Maybe I do not know the sentiments of a mother losing her only child, but I wonder, have you thought of me? We meet on earth with no blood relations, but you have been a mother and a confidante to me, light of my life, savior of this poor wretched child almost doomed to rot in hell.

So yesterday, your bags were already packed when I reached home. I couldn't even have the time to really absorb much of what's going on, having been tired and lacking much sleep lately. Fears and anxieties crawl into my being, for some weird reason, Bach's Chaconne plays inside my head.

I shall forever mark the date. March 24, 2015. I couldn't even cry, perhaps my tears have all dried up from constantly worrying about you. There's only the same feeling I felt when my grandfather died twelve years ago. No tears, just a feeling of sadness that seemed quite foreign and yet a peaceful sadness.

On the way home inside the car, I watched the crescent moon in the sky. Shaped like a smile, it seemed to mock us humans for our frailty and for us mortals giving in to emotions. And yet it's the same feeling I had back then when, aspiring for someone's love so much to the point it hurt, I watched the moon being covered and uncovered by clouds. That same moon, oblivious to heartaches... I hope she smiles down on us and comforts us when the heart longs for the happy past.

And now, a favorite song from the 90's automatically plays in my head when I think of you.

Why do we never know what we've got 'til it's gone

How could I carry on

The day you went away

Cause I've been missing you so much I have to say

Been crying since the day

The day you went away

Please take care now, and always know that despite the distance, you will always be loved. You will always remain as the light of my life.

______________________________________

Today is supposed to be a happy day at the workplace. Yet how can I be happy knowing that starting today I will come home and feel your absence around?

An Open Letter to the Light of My Life

It's been a long time since we last had a long chat. These days we seem to try to catch up on each other early in the morning before I leave for work. I would always ask how you are doing even though I know the answer. You would always look at me, your eyes forlorn, your current fragile state breaking my heart to pieces. It's not easy for me to watch you go weak with each passing day; I have been used to seeing you wake up each morning earlier than anybody else, with that load of energy despite your age. I often wondered where you got that strength that allowed you to do numerous tasks without complaint.

Consecutive trips enriched my life, but it also made me poorer in understanding you. One day I was shocked to come back seeing you emaciated, your eyes no longer alert and shining. Words cannot describe how I feel. You seem lifeless, purposeless, friendless. You wouldn't eat, you refuse to listen when we repeatedly tell you to go to the doctor. You, who used to be strong as a bull, cannot even walk properly now.

I fear for what the future holds in store for us. Throughout my life, you were there. You saw me through my darkest, most bitter periods in my life. When blood and kin sought to hurt me, you were my sole comfort. You were the one who taught me early in my life, even with waves of rejection, coldness, cruelty, and all the challenges that come my way, are nothing if I put my faith in God. You sought to understand me, even in my most pitiful egocentric bitter state. Many would claim to know me but it is only you who always defended me from backstabbers, you the only one who testified to my goodness. It was grace. Perhaps we were meant to meet in this lifetime, because your faith in me changed me. I had a taste of grace because of your goodness and to this time it inspires me to be a better, not bitter, person.

This last weekend, I could have continued to do my volunteer work while in Pangasinan. We passed by Manaoag and I changed my mind and decided to stay inside the church to hear mass and to say a little prayer for you. I knownthat you'd be happy to learn that your little girl is back to going down on her knees with pleas to the Heavens, this time not for me but for you. Today after work, I found myself walking towards that church where I got a rosary last year on my birthday, as if my legs had life of their own. So I brought out my rosary and prayed the sorrowful mystery. How apt, when the two of us are in agony, you physically and me emotionally.

I am not prepared for this. But I guess your little girl will have to grow up now. Coming back home, finding you not there to welcome me has given me of a glimpse of a possibility I do not want to consider. Home feels cold, dark, awful without you.

Tears cannot stop flowing now as I write. Please do not leave me alone.

Bohol 02282014 Day 3

Perhaps due to exhaustion, we were not able to get up early as planned. It was already around 8am when we got out of bed and had our free breakfast at Nisa Traveller's Inn. The dining area of the inn was colorful and pretty, the designs sure to be appreciated by travelers and adventurers yet providing that homey feel.

It was already hot outside when we went out to explore more of Bohol. This time, we ventured to the northwestern part of Bohol, visiting mainly the churches which were heavily damaged by the 7.2 earthquake late last year. Along way, we saw a lot of damaged houses.

According to a certain National Museum staff in Loon, there will be a one-year assessment of the area by geoscientists before any construction can take place. This is because of the sinkholes that materialized in the wake of the earthquake. We got to see the sinkholes, one of which is located right inside a classroom!

sinkhole inside a classroom in Loon

What's left of Santa Cruz Church in Maribojoc: statue amidst the rubbles

Sto. Niño Parish Church in Cortes

We returned to Tagbilaran afterwards. It was depressing to see the ruined churches, but at the same time, it was uplifting to see that life goes on in Bohol, that mass goes on in makeshift tents, that faith goes on. October 15, 2013 will forever be etched in the memory of heritage advocates and enthusiasts as this was the day many heritage structures were either badly damaged, or totally pulverized by a strong earthquake.

We had a quick tour of Bohol Museum and a quick visit to Tagbilaran Cathedral. Then we boarded the jeep to Alona and checked in at Ging Ging´s Hotel. Rate for a room for 2 with aircon is P850 and it was the cheapest we could find in that part of Panglao. Tired from consecutive commutes, my friend decided to sleep while I wandered off alone to visit the famous Nova Museum. This museum houses a collection of diverse shells found not only in Bohol but also in other parts of the Philippines. Of course, I am happy to find an entire shelf of Melo Shells, Melo being my nickname. Melo shells are found in Palawan and according to archaeologists who study shells, these types were once used as dippers (or tabo in Filipino). I also got to see the magnificent San Agustin Church. Augustinians really have beautiful massive churches!

At night we splurged on dinner at Bohol Bee Farm which was much recommended by another office friend who stayed at the resort. Since there were only two of us, we were not qualified to partake of the buffet which requires a minimum of 10 persons. So we had the special menu dinner (P660, service charge included). Dinner consisted of bread, cabcab & dip (this is really nice!), salad (with real flowers), seafood soup (which I LOVE!), brown rice, honeyed chicken with sesame seeds, pork spareribs, blue marlin steak lasagna (yummy!), and ice cream (yumyum!).

With that much food, we felt full even after the long habal-habal ride on the way back to our hotel. While on the road, we regretted not bringing jacket as the night wind was chilly. Yet, we greatly enjoyed the night as we got awed at the fantastic star-filled night sky.

Read about our Bohol Day 1 and Bohol Day 2 misadventures.
Bohol Day 4

November

November is a rather gloomy month mainly because of Supertyphoon Yolanda leaving most of Visayas devastated. The deadly typhoon has now been confirmed to have taken more than 5000 lives and many are yet to be found. What's heartbreaking is that relief operations are chaotic and donations were not efficiently delivered to those in need. Many, including me, suspect that those in office are taking advantage of this tragedy to pocket money for themselves since donations by corporations and nations were not transparently announced. Nor will the public ever know if the funds will completely be used to deliver relief and aid in rebuilding houses and lives.

It just happened so soon, and barely a month after a major earthquake that destroyed most of Visayas' heritage structures in October. I could still remember the disgust I felt upon hearing someone (certainly not a friend of mine) say "This is it! It's our time to shine!" It felt so wrong, to take advantage of the situation to uplift one's self. At that moment, I was repulsed by the hypocrisy and by the shallowness of that person. How different is she from those politicians who added to the delay in relief delivery by demanding that donations go through their office first? Or how about those who, despite much criticism from the media, still resort to packing goods with their names on the bags? Printing those plastic bags means more resources spent, not just money but also time.

As an environmentalist, I cringe at how relief goods are packed using plastic bags. It's good if people reuse plastic bags or dispose of these properly. But in my observations, Filipinos are not very good at taking care of their surroundings and random disposal seems to be the norm. In soup kitchens, I wonder how many disposables are used and end up as trash afterwards? Sometimes I don't wanna think about these but they haunt my mind.

So instead of giving money as donation, I chose to give old clothes and volunteer at UP National Institute of Physics. The department initiated PROJECT LIGHTLINE, which aims to create portable cellphone chargers from old and broken ones. The concept behind this is joule thief. (I'm no scientist and I only got to work on circuits when I volunteered for this project so I'm in no position to talk about how to make a joule thief.) What I understood from my own research though is that a joule thief gets energy from seemingly drained batteries and then give energy to power something. (Just how vague was that???) Anyhow, I was glad to learn parts of a circuit--- diodes, transformers, transistors, capacitors, resistors, etc. I also learned how to solder and desolder. For a while I thought how cool it would be to take up some TESDA courses to be able to hone my skills. (But I already have my hands full with calculus alone... Poor brain of mine.)

Photo taken here
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/ProjectLightline

a circuit I assembled (a masters student coached me on what to put together)

Another highlight of my November is that I got to finally donate blood!!! I was once rejected because I was "anemic". Maybe I just lacked sleep at that time. It makes me happy to be able to pay it forward. I may not be able to pay back the person whose blood was transferred to me when I got dengue many many years back but I hope someone will benefit from my blood.

And just when I thought that Ilocos would be last of my trips this year, I found myself happily joining my two office friends and their friends to Baler. The end of the month saw me suddenly buying makeup and having the desire to learn how to properly put on makeup.

The last day of November, the 30th, and also Bonifacio Day, was spent with a very dear friend. We had a quick lunch at Sci Fi Cafe. (I was disappointed with the Aligue pasta but I LOVE their nachos!) We watched The Addams Family Musical at the Meralco Theater. Having watched the cartoon show in my childhood days, I am reminded of how both strange and adorable this eccentric family is. This time, my favorite character is Uncle Fester. I can't stop laughing at his solo number about his love for the moon! (Fellow lunatics unite!)

Hoping that in December I get to at least finish studying Calculus. Though of course it doesn't mean that learning will stop altogether since I haven't fully mastered everything. Integration and antiderivatives are driving me crazy... I wonder what I'll be studying next.

Jewish Refugees Museum, Shanghai 04072013

Our last stop was the Jewish Refugees Museum. We had a hard time looking for it because suddenly we got disoriented for some reason when we came out of the subway.

The Jewish Refugees Museum has an entrance fee of CNY 50. My friends and I think that's expensive considering that there isn't much to see in this museum. Even a historian would be bored with it though the last part may be of interest to scholars who want to research on how Jews who sought refuge in Shanghai fared after the war.

The coming of Jews to Shanghai was made possible by Consul General 何鳳山 (Ho Feng Shan) in Vienna, Austria. He issued visas to Jews, risking his career. 

The museum is building a database of all Jews who went to Shanghai to escape the Holocaust.

Jewish altar inside the second exhibit hall

 The Holocaust is one of the most horrible human invention in the history of mankind as it sought to eradicate a race by means of torture. The exhibit narrates the events that led to the Holocaust and describes adequately how the Jewish people suffered under the Nazi regime. Jewish children were used as guinea pigs in scientific experiment, a clear dehumanization and objectification of fellow humans which can lead one to ponder on morality, ethics, and humanity at large.

The second part of the exhibit is about the life of the Jews in Shanghai during the World War 2. The Jews were very grateful for the refuge in those trying times.  

The third part, on the other hand, is about the Jews who stayed even after the war. Many started a new life in Shanghai. 

message of grateful Jews to Shanghai

The building is easily seen due to its unique architecture, the only one with red bricks. On the right are flags of nations which supported the Jewish cause during the WW2. I'm proud to see the Philippine flag.

Read more about my 2013 Shanghai Adventure

This is written while listening to Linkin Park's "Minutes to Midnight". "Shadow of the Day" playing as I was making the final touch.

June 2013

How time flies! Half the year is done and yet there are too many things to do and accomplish. It's still a wonder I was able to post entries in my blog last month,but if my dear readers notice, most are just about travels which are way past the deadline. Still, I hope readers get something from reading my posts.

Heavy rains start to visit us and so I see the need to rise up earlier than usual and to report to work early to avoid the rush hour in the afternoon. Our MRT system sucks big time and it doesn't help that we have irresponsible, undisciplined commuters. Buses are not the best choice especially when it rains since major thoroughfares get flooded way too easily and one simply doesn't want to get stuck in bottleneck traffic for hours on end.

Last month, I finished watching Game of Thrones Season 2 and finally got hold of a copy of Season 3. When HBO aired the penultimate episode of Season 3, the internet was abuzz with spoilers the following day. An officemate spilled the beans on the death of two important characters so I was in a dilemma as to watch Season 3 or wait until the year is finished so it won't be long before they release Season 4. Then again, my reading pace of "A Clash of Kings" has been slow thanks to my suddenly hectic schedule. I told myself to finish the book first before proceeding with the third season.

A friend and I attended the showing of Wanko - The Story of Me, My Family and Rock at the Japan Foundation. Before heading to the venue, we had early dinner at Lola's Best which was just across Pacific Star. There really is nothing special about the food and the servings are too small. Anyway, the movie is a touching story on human resilience and animal loyalty. It's an inspiring story about how a family starts a new life following a disaster that wrecked havoc on their beloved island. At times funny and most times touching, it's the sort of movie that one will love to watch over and over again.

In line with a promise to myself to reconnect with people who played an important part in my life, I finally met up with my highschool friends after almost 5 years of no meetups. It's fun to reminisce about highschool life with people with whom you share fond memories.

Add to my hectic schedule is my acceptance to tutor a friend. We would chat online and discuss French grammar and such. It's a somewhat nice way for me to refresh my memory and it forces me to think of efficient ways to teach the language.

On June 24, I went to a friend's house for the San Juan Fiesta. We had so much fun singing karaoke. It's my first time to experience a Pinoy fiesta and I'm relived to find that it's not as crazy as I thought it would be. My friend told me that in the morning of the feast day though, people would throw buckets of water at random people. It's a good thing we went there after office hours.

Last, my proudest achievement this month is that I succeeded in practicing frugality. The last two weeks of June are a testament to how I can spend less, by focusing on important things (like food and transportation) and by resisting the urge to buy books. It helps that one of my projects this year is to read at least 50 books from my collection. The first half of the year has passed and I am nowhere near my target. (Fail!)

The Body and the Blood: The Middle East's Vanishing Christianity and the Possibility for Peace (Charles M. Sennott)

Having read Statecraft: And How to Restore America's Standing in the World earlier this month, I am all the more interested in the Middle Eastern conflict. These days we often hear news of the Syrian conflict which now resulted to the loss of approximately 100,000 lives (see link to be in the know as to how the civil war erupted in Syria). Living in a third-world country with its own problems and crises to pay attention to, we are not much concerned about the chaos happening in the Middle East. One thing is certain though, sooner or later, we will feel its impact since other countries (US, Iran, Russia, etc) have stepped in and have taken sides.

A few years back, I bought the book The Body and the Blood with the goal of educating myself on what lies in the Middle East. As we all know, world history is mostly centered on Western Europe which undoubtedly produced great advances in both the sciences and the arts. But I wouldn't want to believe that other nations are mere consumers of Western-led culture, I adhere to the belief that all cultures have their own strengths and weaknesses, and that their respective peoples are interesting in their own way. Also, I'd like to see through other people's eyes how Muslims are since more often than not, they are equated to terrorists, a very unfair idea since I hold the belief that there are both evil and good in every culture.

Going back to the book, Sennet, the bureau chief of the Boston Globe in the Middle East, attempts to investigate the dwindling population of Christians in the Middle East, that region in the world where the three great faiths originated and which now are in conflict with each other--- Judaism, Islam, and Christianity. The Israel-Palestinian conflict over land territories bore a huge impact on the lives of not only Muslims and Jews, but also of the Christian minority who, as Sennet finds, is caught in the middle and suffers from the hands of the clashing giants.

What started as a pilgrimage to trace the path Jesus followed during his life turned into a mission to record the lives of the already diminishing Christians. In that respect, Sennet vividly describes the build up of tensions between the Israeli military and the Muslims, as well as the gradually growing aggression and persecution against the Christians. The Body and the Blood records cases of injustice and inhumanity and one particular chapter stands out which makes one question how other people see other people's life.

In chapter VII titled "Egypt: The Flight", Sennet describes Egypt as the place "where people, especially the lower classes, love in fear of the police force" (p.175). And they have cause to fear, especially when the police is known to grab any family and torture them for the alleged crimes they know nothing of. Also in the same chapter, the author narrates how a riot resulted in the death of 20 Christians and 1 Muslim and yet half of the arrested were Christians. This grave injustice caused many Christians to flee.

In this book, Sennet does a wonderful research on the current conditions of life in the Middle East and traces  it to history and the current economy. He speculates on the impact of low employment rate and the correlation between financial success and aggression. Ultimately, he sees the ruling elite and religious leaders, their greed for power and wealth, as the factors that play a major role in the destiny of the region. 

X/1999

One of the first animé series I have watched is Magic Knight Rayearth, about three teenage girls sent to a different world as saviours. The series, which combines various genres such as mecha, fantasy, action, adventure, and romance, was, though not necessarily a favorite, something that piqued my interest in animé in my early years.

In high school, I met my first fellow otakus and they were all crazy about CLAMP. I would learn from them that CLAMP is the maker of some of the most popular animé and manga series like Cardcaptor Sakura, Chobits, CLAMP School Detectives, Angelic Layer, XXXHolic, X/1999, Tsubasa Chronicles, and yes, including Magic Knight Rayearth. Later on, I would find myself watching the first three and not liking the stories mainly because I find them mainly catered to girls with their magical dreams and too much fan service, though to be fair I love the concepts and the art, I became a CLAMP-basher.

In highschool, my friends and I watched X The Movie together and seeing its many allusions to Christian eschatology, I made a mental note to one day watch the series since I could not entirely comprehend the movie due to its compressed narrative. My friends also advised me to watch the series and to give CLAMP another chance. It will only be years later, this Holy Week vacation to be precise, that I heeded their advise, and I am without regrets.

The very gist of the series is fate of the world as decided upon by Kamui, the main protagonist who started off as a cold-hearted, confused character who would fight anyone trying to meddle in his affairs. He must decide if he wants to protect the present as a Dragon of Heaven or to wish for a change by destroying the world and creating a new one as Dragon of Earth. But the fates can be cruel, because no matter which side he chooses, he must fight against his twin star, his best friend Fuma, who is destined to fill the empty seat, the role rejected by Kamui in choosing the other.

In preparation for the final battle between the two dragons, each must gather his comrades. The fourteen dragons, seven on each side, have their own stories, their wishes and decisions controlled by the circumstances they were put in in their younger years.

 Kamui’s cheerful and thoughtful personality changed when he saw his mother die before his very eyes as a shadow sacrifice, to ensure that Kamui chooses the right path. Sorata, the friendliest of the Dragons of Earth, was taken away from his mother to live in Mout Kouya as a monk (episode 6). Arashi, the swordswoman and priestess of Ise, did not care if she lived or not as a child but the reason behind this was not fully explained (episode 23). The onmyouji Subaru suffered the most similar tragedy with Kamui; his sister Hokuto was killed by Seishiro the Sakrazukamori whom he loved as well (episode 9), whereas Kamui bore the pain of seeing his childhood sweethear Kotori killed by his best friend Fuma (episode 12). The youngest of the team, Yuzuriha, was often teased as a liar as a child because no one can see her best friend Inuki, a spirit dog visible only to people with supernatural powers (episode 10).The fire master Karen, was regarded as a devil by her own Catholic mother because of her power to control fire (episode 19). Only the wind master Aoki’s back story is not revealed though repeatedly in the series, it is reiterated that he is a loving husband and father.

The Dragons of Earth, on the other hand, are composed of characters who are mostly social deviants with the exception perhaps of Kusanagi and Yuto. Aside from this, they are characterized by their obvious contempt for humans who for them, are an abusive lot deserving death. Fuma used to be a kind-hearted man prior to his awakening as Kamui’s twin star. Satsuki the computer genius orchestrated the death of her own father with the help of her computer “friends” (episode 7). Seishiro is a cold-hearted assassin, figuring in both Subaru and his sister Hokuto’s lives as the latter’s killer. Kakyou the dreamseer is tortured by the fact that he was not able to save the most important person for him, Hokuto, when the girl is killed. The clone Nataku, a lost child with “needy personality”, is a soulless body created by Tojo Pharmaceuticals (episode 15). Kusanagi is a gentle guy whom Yuzuriha falls for, being the first person in Tokyo to “see” Inuki, which brought the young girl great joy.

All dragons knew of their fates beforehand, with the exception of Fuma whose role is dependent on which side Kamui will choose. Each character then prepares himself for the Great Battle and has learned to yield to fate. However, with Kotori’s message that all hope is not lost and that the future still is undecided, Kamui goes on to fight even though Fuma tells him of the inevitability of the Dragon of Heaven’s loss. Indeed, Kamui dies in the end, but his final wish is granted--- to protect Fuma and the world he lives in. This is after he made a sudden realization--- that people die but then their wishes do not die with them, that their wishes continue to live on in the hearts of their loved ones they left behind and whom they want to protect.

All throughout the dramatic events in the series, impressive music plays in the background thus setting the mood. Saccharinely tragic and heart-wrenching, the series boasts of one of the most commendable soundtrack in animédom, and this is also one more reason to watch X/1999 over and over again. 

  

And as a last note, if there is one word that describes the series other than darkly compelling, it would have to be that X/1999  is, in a word, FEATHERY, as all 24 episodes have scenes of scattered feathers. This can be said as pretty much a trademark of CLAMP to portray dreaminess and mysticism.