STORMBORN

October 24, 2015

This week many parts in our country were again devastated by a very strong typhoon.  Many are left homeless, some have died, a lot of properties and livelihood washed out and destroyed, and hundreds are still in evacuation centers waiting for relief and aid.

For as long as I can remember, growing up in Cebu City, yearly typhoons and floods are common.  Hence, my family and I have developed a second nature of being prepared and securing our lives and meagre belongings well in the event the monsoon seasons and the typhoon seasons come. 

Unfortunately, one could not always be prepared in the event of stronger ones coming year after year.  When we moved here in Leyte, we were in for the biggest shocker of our entire life which was Haiyan/Yolanda.  Thankfully, only a very small part of our town was swept by the storm surge.  Yet at home, our entire roofing system was like a piece of cake to the Category 5 Super Monster.  Our huge lumber trusses were broken, all G.I. sheets and the cross-trusses flew away to who knew where, our screen door was ripped from its hinges and was thrown hard, grazing my cheek, and our light bulbs exploded when crushed by the winds. Our outside kitchen and laundry area got crushed to a pulp.  All the decades-old coconut and good lumber trees around the house fell down.  Everything inside the house were drenched or otherwise broken.  There was flood inside the house that rose almost knee-deep from all the rain freely showering the roofless us.  Mom and I got bruises, her asthma got worse by the stress of it all, and even my ankles got twisted in the whole process of dodging Haiyan’s 300 km winds so that I had to limp around for a week even while we took a much needed breather back in Cebu to shop for badly needed supplies.  I had the longest time of my life not sleeping or getting even just a wink for an entire week, especially when typhoon Zoraida followed a few days after.  I feel like being drugged the entire time.  But these experiences paled in comparison to the more than 10,000 dead and missing, and billions of properties and livelihood destroyed and gone forever.

Thankfully, international and local relief agencies had the heart to help, and even until now are still doing their part.  Unlike our very own government, which is still barely releasing one-fourth of all the funds they collected (especially from donations) for the rehabilitation efforts.

But I observed that our people are really resilient.  The first words I heard from our neighbours barely hours after the winds died down on November 8, 2013, even when their entire houses were flattened and a few of our neighbours have died, was that they were thanking GOD that they are still alive.  When I travelled the whole length from home to work, then to Tacloban downtown a few days after the typhoon struck, everybody seemed to look desperate, especially with all the dead and decaying bodies scattered along the sides of the road and trapped underneath all the debris in the whole 30 kilometre-distance from home to work.  (And I was pretty sure I could have seen more dead bodies still lying along the road and buried under the debris if I had gone many kilometres further).  One could feel desperation, exhaustion, yet determination in the air, especially as we went along with the Great Exodus of people walking and being caught in the biggest traffic jam (the daily EDSA grind I believe would have paled in comparison to it) of my life from as far as Samar Island, building up numbers along Tacloban, and more from Palo and Tanauan, down to Southern Leyte, when we went back home to Tolosa.  The entire Maharlika highway was filled with people walking, not entirely like zombies, but almost closer to it, with the horror of Yolanda in their eyes, their entire trauma as real baggage, with a despair that they did not make it to the C130, but with the hope that travelling by foot or any means to the only open ports in the Region would bring them closer to food, healing and sanity. 

But two years hence, the atmosphere has drastically changed.  Here are people on the rise, excited again to be rebuilding their lives and livelihood, and very much welcome and cooperative to all the help and support of others who care about them.  Even though the national government practically ignores us especially since it is already election season, and our very own President is still as ignorant as a caveman in thinking that everybody (the millions still currently alive and living) in the whole Eastern Visayas are surnamed Romualdez, our people still has that indomitable spirit to live and rise and build better.

I can only pray that Lando’s (who strangely sounds like Yolanda) victims will rise too.  Yet, I am confident they will because they are Filipinos.  As what Bamboo said, “Hoy, Pinoy Ako! Buo aking loob, may agimat ang dugo ko”.  There is something in the Filipino spirit that can never be broken by even the strongest typhoons in history.  It is our bond with family and strong faith in GOD that makes us strong and hopeful of a better life even if the worst has come to us.  A true stormborn people, that will rise as proud and as strong and as majestic as a lion to embrace a better life ahead.

BEING ALWAYS RIGHT

October 23, 2015

Somebody said today that she is always right about the things that she claims.  I do admire that person’s courage and confidence but I think to myself, how good it would be if I can say the same for me.  I do try to do my best in everything, but as what always happens, it seems that my best is never good enough.  There is never enough time, and I never have enough pair of hands to do the things demanded of me. 

At work, people always seem to clamour for more of the documents, the reports, and the money claims that are due them, and they want it fast, quick and very soon.  As much as possible, as far as it is within my power, I try really hard not procrastinate in my work.  And since I am often forgetful, during the whole 20 years I’ve been formally employed, I actually have a stenographic shorthand (my own version of it) checklist and diary of day-to-day tasks, weekly, monthly and annual planners of tasks, assignments and projects to do.  But alas, I often make mistakes and had to do countless revisions and adjustments.  (Good thing I was schooled and trained as an accountant, or else, I’d really be in a bind).

When I was a student, except for studying for exams which I frankly hated my entire life, I do my best not to procrastinate on projects and assignments.  I try to make as much copious notes as I can so that I have something to scan while cramming for exams.  At home though is another matter.  I’ve been used to Mom’s nagging my whole life, and apparently, she has gotten used to me being the main procrastinator in the family.  Really, home is where one can let loose, get down, unwind and be a slob.  Our yin and yang at home sees Mom being the eternal OC, and me being the eternal opponent to one who is such a stickler for order and proper arrangement. (Hehe...=)).

This procrastination has caused me many times to make countless mistakes and errors that I wished I hadn’t done, because often, it is the source of my stress, and I’d get nightmares from it.  However, I realized as I get older that these mistakes have made me more prayerful and a little bit more careful every time.  My first-grade teacher once said that even though I knew the lessons well, I get mistakes during the exams because I was careless.  And my whole four decades of existence has been an arduous journey of making countless mistakes over the years, and slowly—very slowly, learning to be a wee bit more careful next time.

And for all these people, I am eternally thankful.  They believed in me and trusted that even though I oftentimes am not right, often make mistakes, maybe fall hard from it, but I am willing to learn the lessons the hard way and continue on with my journey with better conviction to do good and do better next time.

Actually, I am happy with being a person who is not always right.  It means I am still a work in progress, and that there is still a lot more room to grow.  For me, that holds more promise than the belief that I am perfect now.  Thank GOD I am imperfect, because it means a perfect GOD still has a lot of work to do in me, still has a lot of challenges for me, and still has a lot of blessings to give me for the rest of my days.

THE OTHER SOCIETY

October 22, 2015

Mom and I are now doing parallel tv marathons of the Korean drama Legendary Women, currently airing over GMA midnight primetime.  It’s a story of a group of four women who met each other and became friends (well, like a family) while in prison, two for a minor crime and two falsely accused and convicted.  When they came out, they pooled their talents and hearts together and became bakers, establishing a bakery which competes with the giant bread factory whose owner initially destroyed their persons.

Since it is a drama, some situations are of course larger-than-life and exaggerated, but for the most part one learns that even in Korea, the people are basically the same as here in the Philippines.  There are nice people, naive people, greedy and ambitious people, people who are misguided in their overestimation of themselves, and people who just live simply and realistically, giving their hearts in everything they do.

What struck me most though is the Prison system.  In most South Korean dramas I’ve seen, (unless the scene is a North Korean detention facility which is run like a military camp) I am amazed at the cleanliness, orderliness and humaneness of the whole penitentiary system.  Like in other countries’ penal societies, there are gangs and minions, fights between inmates and disorderly conduct.  But what I learned in the few semesters of Law school that I attended taught me that this is understandable situation, because there is no more depressing event for a human being than to be deprived of his/her freedom.  There is at least a million times more angst than in an ordinary teenager undergoing through all the hormonal changes of adolescence for a person who is deprived of the basic natural and constitutional right to be free.  Or else why would the singer shout at the top of his lungs that we are “BORN FREE...TO FOLLOW YOUR HEART”.

In high school we also learned that this Other Society has its laws, hierarchies and cultures that are quite distinct from the outside society, and no amount of police intervention could subvert the culture that is prevalent in any prison facility.  But what seems to differentiate the truly democratic systems from corrupt ones (like many of ours) is the application of the purpose, which, by the spirit of our laws is not actually penal (to punish) but to rehabilitate.  Prisoners are taught basic technical and vocational skills so when they go out and rejoin society, they will know how to support themselves and not be tempted to a lawless life again.

How I wish that our own Penal system is run democratically and fairly.  There would be no special treatments, convicts making all sorts of alibis just to be given royal accommodations while in prison, detention facilities that are not acting as fronts for illegal arms dealing, brothels and illegal drug tiangges, prison systems that truly rehabilitate the erring (whether rightly or wrongfully detained or not) person so that when they come back to society, they will become a positive contribution and not a levelled-up menace.

OPEN RELATIONSHIPS

October 21, 2015

I read something from the Our Daily Journal this week on the importance of open relationships.  No, it does not refer to the permissive one where people change partners as fast and as often as they change underwear.  Nor does it refer only to the romantic one.  The author was simply saying that in our relationship with others—be they family, friends, colleagues, co-workers, or significant others—being honest and open about who we are and what our intentions will be is key to success.

Unfortunately, many people today suffer from broken relationships because of lack of communication.  It seems there is a shortage of people who can speak their minds without being too abrasive, people who are in relationships to build lasting friendships instead of just getting what they want and fulfilling their desires at the expense of others, or people who genuinely and sincerely care for even the most unlovable people in society without aiming just to improve their public image.

Even the governors of the State—that which is second to GOD, according to Political Science, which we must respect—elected or appointed officials, and many career service and ordinary civil servants are in it not for public service but for personal profit (be it monetary, social connections, or meaningful entry to their curriculum vitae).

As a predominantly Christian nation though, if we must restore hope to our people and ourselves, we should go back to the basics of the Name by which we are called.  Jesus Christ is the most honest, frank, direct, open and faithful person in the whole of history.  He calls a kettle black and does not hesitate to reprimand self-righteous Pharisees and Saducees who believe themselves all-knowing and all-perfect.  But He shows unlimited mercy to a woman caught in an act of adultery.  He was a friend to tax collectors, fishermen, shepherds, sick people and sinners—the dregs of society—but He also knows when and how to preach to the rich who earnestly love Him and listens to His word like Zacchaeus and Joseph of Arimatea.  His perfect example of loving others as we love ourselves was the Good Samaritan who took care and provided for the held up and badly beaten Jewish man, even when another self-righteous Jew and Priest ignored that person.

Familiarity breeds contempt, so they say.  But it is in familiarity that we gain a deeper understanding of other people.  It is when we open up ourselves to others that we realize we do not lose something by sharing but we gain a stronger bond linking us to the humanity in others.  As our country comes to another turning point in history next year, how many of us would have the wisdom to discern who among those who want to run for public office are people whose lives and thoughts are open and honest?  With all the propaganda and bashing people today are flinging at each other and saying “I did not do it”, we are reminded of the cat who just swallowed the canary, wiped its mouth with its paws, and meowed in contentment, all innocent and angelic-looking.  And when pushed to a corner say that it is just an exercise in freedom of expression.

I would suggest we start reading faces, see who is open (from the thickness of their brows, to the depth and color and length of their eyelids, to the flare of their noses, down to every little smirk, every gaping mouth, every shape and protrusion of the chin and cheeks, or lack of symmetry between right and left sides of the face) and put our eggs on one whose heart is on the sleeve—a heart and mind that is open to all, open to lead, and open to welcome people to a journey of progress and real development.

LIBERATION

October 20, 2015

Today is rest day for me because of the Leyte Landing holiday.  It has been seven decades since Gen. Douglas McArthur landed on the Red Beach shores of Palo, Leyte during the Japanese Occupation and started the wave of battles that freed the country from the Imperialist clutches of Japan.  As usual, the veterans were honoured today and visitors from different countries graced the memorial event.

Two days ago, or last Sunday, was also Signal Day anniversary in Tolosa, Leyte, when then Boy-Scout disguised guerrillas Valeriano Abella, Antero Junia and Mr. (I forgot the name though I joined the yearly Parade honouring them some few years back) Tiston, waved the semaphore flag, stepped on the ship where the General was, and asked them to stop bombing Tolosa because if they had, I wouldn’t be here now since all my maternal ancestors will be dead.  I owe these three guys the survival of their genes which were passed on to me.

Some people argue that July 4 should be Independence Day since that was the day the United States declared our sovereignty, instead of June 12 when Spain sold us to the Americans and surrendered their clutches to our country.  But for me, real liberation is when the General brought hope to my ancestors by coming back for the hostaged country they lived in some 70+ years ago.

This is also the day after my grandmother’s and my step-father’s death anniversaries.  How fitting that they should be liberated from all the pain and hardships of this world on the same day every Waray feels eternally grateful and hopeful for being freed from the suffering of a then-misguided conqueror who thought that Asia should only be for Asians (though ‘only for the Japanese’ would be the correct phrase, wouldn’t it?).

For my part, there are different levels of bondage.  Physically, one may suffer detention or sickness.  Mentally, one may succumb to low self-esteem, ignorance and prejudice.  Emotionally one may wallow in depression and fear.  Spiritually, one may be in the troughs of hopelessness and clutches of sinful and riotous, chaotic living. 

But I guess the greatest form of bondage is hopelessness.  If one thinks that he/she is all alone, that this life is all there is, that everything is unfair and there is nothing one can do about it, then that would be the end.  But if a person is hopeful of a better tomorrow, of a GOD who cares and prepares a good future even if we cannot yet fathom it, there is reason to believe that all the pain, suffering, crises and oppression we are experiencing now will soon come to an end.  There will be real liberation if we all believe that all the injustices and unfairness life dishes out to us now will be paid back in full measure, and we will be compensated well for fighting the good fight until the very end.