Here I go again...

   Once in awhile, I have this need to make an active journal. A look at the dates in these posts will tell anybody how few and far between they are. Blame it on my schedule, hospital crises seem to happen just when I wanted to do something productive with my time. Maybe, I'm just not into writing anymore, maybe I have privacy issues, or maybe... Dang it! I've run out of excuses this time.

   Well, anyho, I've decided, yeah really, as in raise-my-hands-in-panunumpa pose really decided to make it work this time.

Of Tita Cory

The image of her brown casket saluted and cheered by thousands of simple people is enough to bring me to tears. What is it about this woman which has captured the hearts and minds of an entire country and gained her the respect of the whole world?

She has been many things to us, icon of democracy, first woman president, mother of the new Filipino nation, to name just a few. She has been all that and more. She was and is an embodiment of those rarest of qualities in a politician; rock-solid integrity, brutal honesty tempered with a deep and true concern for country and people and most of all, faith and childlike trust in God. It does not matter that during her incumbency numerous coup attempts had been staged or that various detractors had indicated she could have done a lot more of political reforms. What has made her dear to our hearts is her humility and disregard for power. Such is the contradiction that this simple, unassuming widow became one of the most powerful and influential people of our generation.

What has Cory been to me? I was still in grade school back in the 80's during Ninoy's Assassination and Cory's rise to power. Raised as we were in a politically oriented family of the opposition, I can clearly recall doing my share in preparing leaflets and making coffee for the numerous supporters who flocked to our family home in Lanao during the 1986 Snap Elections. My older cousins would join the political rallies and even provide support for the groups going on house to house campaign in the mountain barangays, never mind the threat to life that we had to endure during the Marcos years. Such was the dedication of my family that Cory's cousin King Sumulong would rather sleep at our home rather than at the parish house where the campaign leaders usually stayed during those dangerous times. In my young mind, idealism had been sparked by the courage of this housewife who dared to take on a brutal regime whose followers would not hesitate to kill even in broad daylight.

I will forever be thankful for Cory's legacy. My formative years as a student journalist were during the heady days post-Edsa. Without her sacrifice, my generation might have known only brutal repression and fear instead of the freedom we needed to fully explore and develop our potential and youthful idealism. I had marched my own share of rallies in the years that followed and I never felt the need to hide my opinion for fear of retaliation. Even now that I have been touched by cynicism at the state of our nation, the death of Cory and the massive outpouring of support has given me hope, hope that the Filipino still has what it takes to rise out of the inglorious heap we have fallen, hope that the Filipino is still worth dying for. And Tita Cory's legacy will live on...

On Motherhood

I don’t know what I would have done if anybody’d told me I’d feel this way once I had a baby. It’s quite unlike anything I had ever felt before. The little person you hold in your arms seems to be the cutest, most clever and, for me, since I do consider being funny an admirable trait, funniest baby ever known. I suddenly develop an empathy with all the other young mothers I know who have eyes and ears only for their children and of course now I understand why a mother will do anything for her baby. The reason I rarely write about it is partly because I wouldn’t know how to describe how it feels and also because it would be nothing unique. Every mom since the dawn of time experienced this since the first time funny little cave babies toddled out from the mouth of the cave covered in their fur coats trying not to fall as they follow mom around. And who could forget the determined little faces as they tried to “help” dad skin the saber-tooth.

What is certainly new to me is the way this little person turned my world over. I used to be so self-absorbed. I was a loner who could get lost in the world of books or computer games for hours at a time. I answered to no one and no one answered to me and I could come and go as I please. Now, I have to set aside my books if the little tyke demands that she wants to read with Mama and the soldiers in my strategy game would have to get their orders somewhere else while I was busy with the little general bouncing on my knee. And yet, I don’t regret all the time I lost for cuddling myself if I have to spend them with my daughter. And while I may feel silly dancing and bouncing around the playroom with Lewie, it is my greatest hope that my little daughter will have a font of great memories she has shared with Mama. As she would say with a satisfied sigh, “best friend si Mama, si Lewie”, may I be someone she can always depend on to provide for her needs and someone she could consider a friend.

Where have my memories gone?

Driving home one afternoon, I listened to songs over the radio. There’s this song “Don’t Speak” which came out in the late 90’s when we were still in med school. This was actually one of our favorite songs that my friend and I would often stop walking just to listen to it. At that time it did mean something to me and listening to it now I was reminded of the bittersweet memories of my angst-riddled schooldays.

I have really been through quite a lot since those years. I had even forgotten the feelings that I kept bottled inside me for fear of being ridiculed or ostracized. The all too real pain kept me awake late at night cursing my fate and making me pray for oblivion. But now it all seems so long ago and somehow surreal. Maybe because it was only me and my journals who knew about it. Maybe the frustration that I was subjected to in the recent years drove everything else out of my mind. And even that is starting to fade from my memory, driven out by the worries of day to day living.

When I reflect on all these things, I discover that life’s pain or joys only last for just a fleeting moment. All our triumphs and failures, our problems, our worries and even our lives can be gone in just a blink of an eye. What good then will it do to be obsessed with so many things in life? It is better to live each day as it comes, to cherish the good times and deal with the bad times the best way we can.

Crisis

The economic crisis was a wake-up call for most of us. We have been living a culture of excess for quite some time. We buy and use things as if there was no tomorrow. We break the bank or max out our credit cards just to have the latest trends in fashion, the coolest gadgets, the widest HDTV, the fastest cars; things which we will throw out after we get tired of them.

Now, the global economic downturn hits us like a splash of cold water in the face. No more shall we spend far more than we can afford, a new culture of thrift has started to take root. And I think it's about time we started using our resources in a more responsible way. Recycling things, growing our own vegetables, preparing no more food than we need, making do without the latest trends in fashion or newest gadgets with a plethora of features we don't even use. These are just few of the ways to save our pocketbooks and save the earth in the process. In the end, it won't matter how many things we accumulate throughout the years but rather how much life and love we enjoy and share out of all our years. And that, thank God, doesn't bring with it a hefty price tag.

Critics

I was shocked with the death of Heath Ledger last week. Sad to say, I will not be able to see anymore of his films, my favorite of which is "A Knight's Tale". Last night, I looked it over at Wiki and I found out it had received unfavorable reviews. How come? I enjoyed that movie, especially the part where he got to meet the Black Prince or the part where he returned home to his father and gave an old man hope and the joy of knowing his son has made something of himself. I think the movie deals with the courage to seize life and overcome obstacles placed on us by the norms of society and the status quo. All the critics seem to care about is whether it has a "new plot" or artistic interpretation.

Feeling a bit put out by this, I decided to search their opinions on another movie which I really enjoyed, even watched again on DVD, "Independence Day". It came as no surprise that again the reviews were not that good despite the fact that it was a top-grosser. I scanned for some of the books and films that I enjoyed and got the same lukewarm reviews. In contrast, the films I found boring or offensive seem to get glowing reviews. Then it hit me. Either these critics are stuck up snobs too full of their own "artistic" pretentions or I'm just a shallow individual, incapable of following the complicated plots of so -called "good" movies. Oh well, none of these matter to me except that the stories are good enough to transport me to a differrent place. I'll be damned if I let the critics dictate me on what I can or cannot enjoy...

Vacation Spot 1

Dakak Beach Resort, off-season.

During off peak months, Dakak is a fine place to go and relax. A small cove with a white sand beach and eco-tourism activities, it is a popular destination for those who wish to soak up the sun. The long trip and uphill climb was worth it when you're able to relax in these surroundings. Just don't ask me to go there during summer or the holidays when its packed with local and foreign tourists that you're unable to book your room if not at least 2 months in advance. It would be like a mini Boracay what with rubbing elbows with celebrities. That would be a shame coz I don't fancy spending my vacation time hobnobbing with the elite and (in)famous.