THE MEMORIES OF NEW YEAR

PIAGIT NG MGA ISO KADUNG-GAN KO

IYAK HAW HIKO SA LANGIT YASANGKO

KITA KO SANG ARANG NA BAYHO

KALIPAY  NG TANAN, SANG TUIG NA BAG-O!

(Children’s joyous shouts ringing in my ear

Sounds of laughter makes sky so near

Gleeful faces so I see

Happiness brought about by new years day!)

 

“sige da!....sige da! Dapat mauna kita! Para makakita kita ng madyaw!” (come on…come on! Let’s be first, so we could get a good view!)………

”naa pa! tagad naa!” (uh huh! Wait! )…… “paspas!...hinayay mo!” (faster!...you’re so slow!)

“ uy! Pagdali!....si tyo dodoy yang-hatag da ng bisyuhan!” (oh…come on quickly.….uncle dodoy is giving out toys already!)

 

tyo dodoy to everyone with bani, tatta and jager

Timeline; January 1, of every year….that  will be tomorrow….


unlike other people, my memories seem to glue not on the  joyous holiday celebration, not on the round fruits, dotted dresses, and gifts, and songs…sure they are part of it, but vividly the memory of my father lingered like it was just yesterday.

9:00 a.m., as soon as the celebration of the catholic mass ended, people from all ages arrive in front of our house in Rizal street, Cateel Davao oriental Philippines. Everyone was in a hurry, some scampered to get hold first of different kinds of toys given out that year.

 

“ako! Ayy ako!!!!” (me..oh me!!!!) “tyo dodoy, tyo dodoy!!! Wa pa ako makadawat!” (uncle dodoy, uncle dodoy!!! I haven’t receive any yet!!)” “tyo dodoy…tyo!!! Tagai ako, tagai ako palihug!!!” (uncle dodoy….uncle!!! Give me, give me please!!!)


My father was uncle to everybody. In fact the whole town called him "tyo" (uncle). though his full name, Pretextato doesn't sound appealing (he admits that), so he loved the nickname "dodoy".

Memories flash to me right now clearly, like I am watching a movie! Those voices, shouts laughter…….brought tears and joy and smile into my moments of recollection.

 

Giving out of toys was only a start, there come the much awaited part everyone was anticipating. The games……contest …prizes….

The prizes given out at that time was only a meager amount, but the happiness and enjoyment  that was visible in everyone’s face was  so gratifying!

Boys and girls of any age participated, (at first, it was intended for kids only) There was contest for peeling and eating bananas …where the bananas are tied with strings and while hanging, kids with hands secured at their backs, will remove peelings off with their teeth and eat the fruit inside. Should consumed it all, without touching the fruit, and should not get help from anyone….

Another enjoyable game was sticking the coin at the outside  bottom of the pot, so dirty from cooking with firewood. They have to remove the coin with their noses, and kids all ended up with very dirty faces…..like cats stealing fish from a dirty pot!

Then there was this tug of war …participated by boys and girls…where the losers dived on the sandy ground ending up powdered with dust, but still stood up grinning.

And how can I forget the sack race? Kids get inside the sack (one needs to bring their own sack…I remember kids usually




bring big sacks, they said, the wider space gives them the room to execute higher jumps to outrun their opponents! The funny thing is, some kids are so small, and yet they brought big sacks, that when they get inside, they cannot be seen anymore!

I remembered my daughter Juddie Ann. Everyone 
fondly call her tatta,  she
 was so small during that time, and she still insist on joining the contest. Yet so tiny she was (2 or 3 years old), that she can’t cope up with the speed and strength of the other kids…she always end up losing! And her grandfather (my father) always came to her rescue…that means giving her a separate prize! Lol (she was the apple of his eyes, anything she wants, she gets! A certified brat, so they say).

Juddie Anne (tatta) at 2 years old

Sandwich snacks are given out to ease the hunger and juices to quench the thirst. Some who just live nearby goes home for lunch and come back to continue the fun which will last till the afternoon. the event culminates with a betamax movie show which will last till evening.

In the later years, even the not so young engage in the fun too. I remembered the oldies (grandmothers) doing the trip to Jerusalem! I still remember, tya manti, ompo puring, ompo doling….and a lot more , I can’t recall now all the names…but the kids enjoyed cheering for their grand mothers.

As the years go by, it became a tradition. Without giving out notices or words, every January 1, people just automatically come to the same place and enjoy.

It  started when I was still young, maybe 14-15 years old. I  remembered my father and mother told me a story;

baby bekoy and tatta

My  youngest brother (baby bekoy or Roberto) was born, and my mother had a difficulty because she was diabetic. The baby has to be born by cesarean on the eight month, otherwise he  will die in the womb, like the baby that preceded him. Because of my mother’s condition, they were having financial difficulties. Transportation to the city during  that  time was so hard. No highways; only by pump boat to cross the vast pacific  ocean, and a land trip for 12 hours to reach the city or by hiring a chartered private plane.

When my mother and the baby was discharge from the hospital, they are running a debt  of several thousands of pesos, which during that time was a huge amount.

The hard times continued for several years. Watching my brother grew, with a debt  attach to his existence is like a knife striking repeatedly on my parents’ hearts.

My  baby brother grew sickly and have some allergies with food and medicines. Several  times he was in the berg of death and I remembered hearing my father praying; "Lord if you will give my son to me I will devote one day in a year to make children  happy".  And my mother told me, everyday…even  when she is in the kitchen or in the toilet, she was praying to God to give her  financial capability to pay the hospital debt, (she personally believes that one of the reasons why my brother was sickly, is because there's a heaviness caused by  the unpaid hospital bills).

True, no prayers will be left unanswered when your heart is pure. The whole town were  living witnesses to how my family rose from rugs.

My mother and father put in some amount in an empty water container everyday, from the sales in our general  merchandise store. Every time the container became full, they will take a new  one, and slowly fill it up again. Every end of the year, they will open it, and me and  my siblings will help count it and those are what we use to buy the toys, food and prizes. It continued even after I got married and have children, and  my brother baby bekoy (Roberto) to whom it was dedicated, got married too. And the  once kids that engage in the contests, got married, and their children were the  ones now playing the games, while they themselves contented to become cheerers.

When  my mother died, the tradition stopped, especially that my father became sickly. He married his second wife and had 2 children, until he was diagnosed to have a  cancer of the lungs (due to heavy smoking). Though the doctor gave him 3 months to live, he lasted for 1 ½ more years.

Never  in my wildest imagination, that people will ever remember those days until after I had some exchanges of comments with dondon (roedel Emboscado) in facebook. Roedel, and his siblings lanlan and kokoy were my daughter's playmates. He made  mention about how they treasured the experience they have when they were kids. The event every new year's day was very important in their young minds, something they  always look forward to. Dondon (roedel) hopes that the legacy left by papa will  continue for the new generations to experience and enjoy the way they did before.

I  remembered dondon, lanlan, nonoy, epen, bani, baday, baloy baning, landot, Portia, bandjing  and a lot more kids in our area; they are the contemporaries of my daughter tatta (juddie). Everyone of them grew to become good citizens….truly, the kids  that play on the streets are more sensible, outgoing, productive and creative. Some of  them have their own families now. Some, works with private and government   sector, some, went abroad. What I noticed is; not one of the kids in our area turned to become a liability of the society. Praise God!

Most of all, it gave me immeasurable joy to know that some of my father's goodness was  not forgotten. I also share the same desire to continue what he had started. To  borrow Roedel’s words; "if tyo dodoy was able to do it alone, how much more if we bound together and continue the tradition he had started for the new  generations to come". We are hoping to start the ball rolling by next year! Happy  new year everyone!

P/S 
If you are one of the kids that was part of this memory, please leave a comment and/or upload any photo of those yesteryears. thank you.

WHOSE THE BOSS? what you can do i can do better!

Time check, 6:00 a.m.......hmmmmnnnnn.... i still have 30 minutes for my early morning facebook ritual before rushing to the bathroom. 


One friend wrote: "men's brain is between the legs!" Whoa?????.....as i scroll down i read: "men's ego is higher than the mountain ang wider than the sea!" oh oh! what's happening? Looks like women are heeding for protest! lol. Very timely for wall street protest indeed! 
As i scrolled down, my friend archie posted this: 

Archie Pacana

The average woman would rather have beauty than brains, because the average man can see better than he can think.

Oh huh, so even men have the same views? While we are in the car going to our work this morning, we indulge on the same topic....well, looks like men are the best subject when it comes to criticism huh?

But seriously speaking, it came into my mind, what is really behind the present family trend in the Philippines? 

For those reading this that are not from my country, let me inform you that more and more filipinos each day are living in a very unusual set up. Present statistics shows that more and more women go out for work in and outside the country, and more and more men are staying at home, while we are raised to believe that men are the head of the family. 

Biblically speaking, he  is to look after the needs of his wife and children. Needless to say, this belief originated from the start of the creation of mankind. God said: "man, you are to take charge of the garden". This means that on man's shoulders, God bestowed the responsibility of raising up and protecting his family. On the contrary, more and more men are jobless, stay at home, and well, sad to say some wouldn't even stay at home. 

I remembered stories my grand mother told us before, as we gathered around her, how women are expected to stay in the house, take care of the children, and  attend to husband's needs. All needs! that is.......!

I can't help but sigh, how much relief it would be if the same still exist to date. But that seems like a fantasy. For a working mother like me i really felt the pain of not being able to watch my children grow. 

I was inside the faculty room (it's my free day, whuuuu... what a relief, i can do some net surfing and check my student's projects... and some extra stuff, you know what i mean....lol)i was in the middle of these thoughts, and i semi -consciously, ask a coleague (she is a saudi), "what do you think, are women better than men, or men better than women?" right away with wide eyes and without wasting a single thought, she blurted out, "oh oh....of course we are better than men!" and i said, "why?" without batting an eyelash she said, "we are more intelligent, we are compassionate, lovable, responsible....." "we can multi-task, we are hard workers, we are loyal!" answered another colleague from Pakistan ", and we are reliable, trustworthy dedicated, enduring etc...etc..." seems like an endless opinion of another one from Egypt.

Surprised as i am dumbfounded to realize that the situation is not only prevalent in the Philippines, but alas! it's all over the world! Another Saudi colleague continued, " you see, a Saudi man, wherever he is, is still a Saudi man, and an american even if he lives in Asia is still an american man, so is a filipino or a china man in america is still Chinese or Filipino. But a man is a man, and they will always be what they are, wherever they are, or who ever they are! Men are immature, self centered,  inconsiderate and selfish. They just do what they want to do without thinking of the consequence!" 

oh oh! sounds like men are gaining a very notorious reputation! no offense meant guys, this is not my personal opinion, but a majority observation. lol! 

Personally, i think men are full of vices(sorry guys), maybe because of wrong notion that  real men are those men that smokes, drinks, commits adultery, doesn't wash their faces, don't wear attractive clothes, doesn't use creams and lotions, doesn't go for facial, etc. etc., save for those that are truly dedicated and God fearing.

Having a failed marriage (mostly because of the man's attitude and incompetence issues) and due to inconceivable deferences, and having married too early with zero experience on having boyfriends, i'm having a hard time understanding men's nature. This triggered my curiosity to do some research (to be fair to men at least)! 

I then found out that women expatriates had reach a phenomenal stage worldwide. From the Philippines, to Indonesia, to Borneo, to India, Sri Lanka, Ethiopia, Morocco, Egypt, Sudan, Mexico, even as to parts of Europe like Romania,  Albania, Bosnia and Herzegovina, Bulgaria, Croatia, Kosovo, Macedonia, Montenegro, Romania and Serbia, to name a few. In fact there is even a small town named Varshets, a remote town in Bulgaria’s Montana district, where there are no women left. Everyone left to work either in Italy, Spain, or any country where there is a need for menial, cheap labor, Leaving their husbands and children behind to earn money for the family. file:///C:/Users/Rose/Desktop/my%20blogs-images/references/Topic%202009%20-%20Identity%20%20Families%20Pay%20the%20Price%20as%20Women%20Go%20West%20%20%20%20Balkan%20Fellowship%20for%20Journalistic%20Excellence.htm

Sad but it's true, life is changing and so is its pattern. One could easily exclaim, "what's happening to men?" But if we are to analyze the situation, i think there is more to it than meets the eye. For one, men in general had this innate desire to keep their macho image. Nor are they comfortable confiding to someone their problems. They have the tendency to protect that image at all cost. Often times they keep their emotions to themselves, feeling like allowing someone see them cry, or express love and adoration, or express their sentiments, might degrade their machismo.

Sadly as i dig out another revelation, statistics around the world show, that more men committed suicide than women. Maybe because fewer men would seek psychiatric help when they are discouraged and depressed. It shows men are unwilling to reveal their pent-up feeling even when they felt "down" and exhausted. http://www.asiaone.com/News/Latest%2BNews/Asia/Story/A1Story20111025-306969.html

The the most reliable information is a personal confession i had extracted from one of my best male friends Allan, who told me that they just appear strong in the outside, but they are weaker emotionally. He said women can cope up with frustrations, break-ups and pain more than they do. Further he said, women can go depressed after a break-up or any other depressing incident only 15 days (oh really?...just 2 weeks!) or 1 month the most. After that, she bounces back to life like she had never been hurt before. While it usually takes them many months or years before they can overcome the same.

I am truly amazed by the unusual coping mechanism of my other best friend named Raffy. He can take the worst financial, family and marital problem in stride. I can't forget the day when he giggled, "hihihihihi....my house has no more roof!" upon the knowledge that he lost the roof of his house in the Philippines to the Typhon that devastated their place. But when we were alone, he drop tears while reciting the litany of his problems. I usually tease him and sing to him, "i laugh with tears in my eyes, like a clown i wear at disguise.....". 

Maybe his capacity to cope is due to his ability to shed a tear, and tell someone of his predicaments. lucky he, because not everyone does! I personally think that men who are not ashame to shed tears are more macho than the "plastic" ones. They are rare, but they are more real!

Further more, i think God just blessed women with unusual inner strength, considerate, compassionate and enduring hearts. What we lack physically, He always compensate emotionally, and maybe more, in some other ways. 


I remembered an old friend, who told me once, "the irony of being a man is, when they see a man that has some feminine qualities, everyone thinks he is gay, but when they see women that has some masculine qualities, they will think she is strong!"

Very well said! What can i say? KUDOS TO WOMEN!

 

  

TO BE OR NOT TO BE, YOU'LL ACCEPT ME ANYWAY

i was rendering a fashion sketch for a real elegant and 

beautiful wedding dress commissioned by a friend 

for her wedding, when I heard noise of unrecognized 

voices of children and adults’ laughter and funny 

screams. “ hoooyyyy…baklaaaa…baklaaa!” 

“hahahaha…ang pula ng lipstick mo bayoooottt”.

“weeeeeehhh!.....yeheyyyy…miss gay na!” 

“hoyyyy…. stopppp!!!!...tigillll…tigilll kayooooo!!!

Baka biglang umulan!” “hahahahah!!!”.

 

I hastily stood up and peep through our window and saw a group of young “gays” parading complete with fashionable get ups and heavily made up. I thought it was funny and funnier the way local folks in our small town reacted to the sight.

Those were the days when homosexuality was regarded as a mortal sin, and one has to keep it a secret rather than risk of exposing himself and be declared persona non grata. During that time, having a homosexual for a son was like a curse in the entire family, and it was regarded as a shame to the community

  

Blessed be me, for being gifted by Almighty father with talent in arts. I was able to move and built a small fashion house in busy Bolton Street, Davao City. 

Having a fashion business in the city exposed me to the company of gays in the industry. In fact fashion world is similar to movie world; it is a gay’s world so to speak. It was then that I came to realize that gays are extremely talented, charismatic, and artistic people and they are likewise lovable people too! In today’s modern world, society is more tolerant and less judgmental. Gays, I think, overcrowded the world. I think in any field I can think of, there is always somewhere someone a gay.  May he be a closet queen or a screaming fagot? In fact, if there are gay actors and directors, there are also gay teachers, lawyers, businessmen, even gay priests and gay law enforcers!

just emagine a scenario if the policemen are gay:

Policeman #1:  “hoy atching! Mag may I raise your 

hands na at clap 1 2 3!…..napapaligiran na kitwa!”

Hold upper:        “etsos ka twe! Over my dead sexwy beautiful bra huh!”

Policeman #2:    “ mataray  oyot kwah!....pag di kwa mag-may I go out, mag disappear ka na lang sa around the world!”

Naku day ka-loka talaga….pero ang saya-saya! This is a crazy world endeed!

Almost everyone would see the gleeful facade that overshadowed the suppressed inner desire to be accepted as what they really are (very few truly does). Even in this modern society where a lot of gays have carved a niche to their name, still people and sectarian groups differ in their perceptions.

 

One day as I came from a business appointment, I happened to park my car, as I unloaded assortment of fabrics and accessories, in front a small eatery. Guys obviously drank and secretly passing on a lighted short “cigarette”. 

I heard one say: ahhhh…syaraaaappppp!!!!!...wheeeewww lakas tama preh!, Puffing out a thick smoke with drowsy eyes.  I think I knew what it was, because if it were an ordinary cigarette, then they will not keep it a secret. When I reached inside my shop, I saw the front page of the news paper, “a woman murdered”. 
 

This made me think, here are “normal” young healthy men, wasting their time on vices. People, who kill, waste their time on drugs. Macho men, who just love themselves so much and use women as their trophy, Men who are contented of sleeping instead of working and feeding their family.

 What is more disgusting? What is more despicable? Are gays better than men? Or are gays doomed to hell? Maybe your answer will differ than mine.

 This inner realization made me think and search all my gay friends’ eyes and I can see the gloomy sparkle in everyone’s eyes, as they laugh with gusto, unto each other’s jokes. Yes they have the capability to laugh at their own selves. I can’t help but admire their inner strength, to enjoy each day, to catch each opportunity to create their world of fantasy. To endure all the beatings they got from this very harsh world. But beyond those smiles and hearty laughter, is the desire to live a life that you and I do. 

I noticed, they often times keep around the company of fellow gays or within the circle of people who openly accepted their identity. people who knew and understand what it feels like to experience hurt and rejection. i think, different as they may be, they also know what it is like to want a relationship with God. Often times as i stare into their eyes, i felt the sparkle in their eyes meant different, i felt like it were wondering, asking;  is their hope for any of us?

At times, we tend to be judgmental and discriminating. We tend to look at other people through ourselves or we tend to search for ourselves in someone else’s personality. We forgot that each one of us is unique. We forgot that God created us according to His plan and purpose. Am sure some would raise their eyebrows and blurt out….”
  

What God’s plan and purpose are you talking about? Does God created t them to be gays?” 

                                                                                                        
Am sure not, but I do believe things happen for reason. Maybe good or bad, for now I can’t say why…or what or how. But I do believe, whoever we are, and whatever we are, we all have our rights to live under the same sun created by God. And we all have the right to be whatever and whoever we are, and we can all use our uniqueness to glorify Him that created us according to his image and glory.                                                                                                              

Everyone wants change, We know from personal experience that change is not possible, through our own strength alone. And we know from personal experience how change happens and what change looks like. We don't have any right either to demand change from someones personality. it is only God who knows how his being he or she can be used for His glory. Because we know for sure, that change is only possible through God!

 

OPRAH WINFREY’S SHOW AND PEACEBOOK, FISHBOOK, FACEBOOK….

Like the ancient Jews, Filipinos are scattered all over the world. You name it, there hardly any country that has no Filipino expatriate or immigrant. Even in war thorn countries. Perhaps this is brought about by the incapability of our government to provide the much needed jobs, so we will be able to live a comfortable, descent lives. It is a sad reality that Filipinos have to struggle so hard to be able to afford a humane way of living so to speak, that most of us had been used to hardships, got tired of appealing and complaining that making a joke out of any situation, became our therapy.

One early Friday morning, (Jeddah, Saudi Arabia time) when I entered the hallway of our Christian church, I found my sisters and brothers in Christ gathered, shared jokes and had good laughs about how some of us mispronounced the facebook. We don’t have letter f in our alphabets, so the most common mistake is; we often pronounce f as p. It’s very common to hear somebody say, “I have pisbook”! Or “we are peacebook prins”. The more educated ones will intentionally pronounce it as fishbook, or pacebook to add more funny sounding twist. Truly I think the highest number of facebook users is Filipinos.  We are thankful for having facebook in our lives. From businessmen, executives, clerks, to a simple labor worker, a domestic helper, nannies, grannies, housewives and kids, have facebook account. To me facebook is a tool to kill the time, exchange pleasantries, and spread good or bad news. Something you can turn to when you are bored to death, or rather something that has no need to be taken seriously. Little did I know that an incident will happen that will change my perception on facebook forever.

This is my story:

My youngest son is named Juan Paulo. He is sixteen years old and has a congenital heart defect. Since he was five months old, I was already advised several times by the doctors of his dire need for heart surgery. But due to financial constraint, I was not able to submit him for the operation.
Due to his condition, game is a luxury he cannot play. So he spent most of his time watching TV. Not soon after, his interest was caught by Oprah's show, and he became Oprah's great fan. Not missing a day, wide eyed watching her help kids from all over the world through her angel foundation. Then he started to build his dreams and draw inspiration from it.


He was 12 years old at that time, when one day with great hope, he wrote a letter to her, asking her to help him get a heart surgery. The day he sent his letter, he started counting and waiting everyday with great hope for the good news. Then one day the moment came. He could hear the beating of his heart, with excitement as he run his eyes through the answer from one of Oprah's staff saying: we are very sorry, we hope you understand that due to the bulk of the request that we receive in our site, we cannot assist you in your request. His shoulders along with his jaws dropped as he tasted the tears that rolled down his eyes.

Like a wounded soldier, trying to regain his lost stand, he started to turn to politicians, who also failed him. Hopelessness started to engulf his existence. Though at times he thought only of one thing, "GOD HAS A PURPOSE IN MY LIFE" and it’s what kept him going.


Then in the month of November 2010, after dinner, he started to have seizures, and he started to vomit blood. It was his worst attack. With the help of Davao City's 911, he was brought in time to the hospital. The X-rays, ECG and other test revealed that his arteries had completely closed up! Meaning, there was not a bit of blood from the heart that went to the lungs. How he lived baffled the doctors, that discovered his damaged arteries grew new arteries that went to the lung and supply the blood to his entire body! His doctor, Dr Fay Chua, can’t help but exclaimed God's wonderful miracle in him, but even then, this still has problems, because some of the arteries that grew are too small, that it cannot stand the pressure of the blood. Plus there was a bleeding in his brain that caused the seizures. These facts give way to an immediate need for surgery.

During that time, i was so financially drained, I don't have anything anymore. As a single mother of five, and the only bread winner in the family, the hospital bills left a very huge hole in my pockets. Coming up with the amount needed was a total impossibility. As I contemplate on the amount needed, I was like facing a towering mountain to climb with bare hands. All I cling to was God's promise as it is written, "MY CHILD I WILL NEVER LEAVE YOU NOR FORSAKE YOU". 

Then my brother Vicente suddenly thought of posting in his FACEBOOK, reaching out to friends and relatives, from all over the world....... one after the other, help started coming in. They started sending some amounts of money they can afford, and we started accumulating it. I do believe that God had moved the hearts of people to feel Juan Paulo's need. A friend named Amira Bin Ladin learned about JP's condition, and she provided the big part of the financial need.

February 10, 2011…...It felt like a real life drama. As he is being rolled into the operating room, for the much awaited surgery, Facebook has made a dream a reality!