Sundays and Sunrises

I've often wondered, since I was little, how come I felt sad during Sundays (maybe because it's Monday the next day?)- well, sad is a strong word, maybe melancholic. It was a feeling that until now I still feel, that despite accomplishments, blessings, and growth, that somehow there is still no contentment, and the yearning still persists.

A few weeks ago while I was hearing Sunday mass, they sang a beautiful song during communion which hit home that at some point I thought, they were singing to me/ about my life. The song asked:

"What have we to offer that does not fade or wither?"

..."When will you cease running in search of hollow meaning?

Can the world ever satisfy the emptiness in our hearts? In vain, we deny."

Usually I'm not this sappy and sentimental, but the words really rang true. For most of my twenties, I was kind of lost, searching for the next thing that would bring me happiness. I've traveled to many places, thought money would bring comfort and joy, but little did I know that happiness and contentment are daily struggles. Finding meaning in our lives means taking risks and helping people you love, going though life's adversities together, and learning to let go and surrender everything to God.

I just wanted to share the song (sang by Bukas Palad), about man's yearning which can only be satisfied by God. It's as soothing and as beautiful as a sunrise...

Lessons from an Invisible Burden: Homosexuality, Morality, Love, and Gay Marriage

It is hard for me to be completely detached and impassive when discussing issues such as homosexuality, as a large part of who I am sprung from the constant struggles of being gay in conservative, largely Catholic society.

The first question that begs an explanation is: how does one become homosexual? Are people born gay, or is it something chosen at some point in a person’s life? Many conservative Christians consider homosexuality itself as a lifestyle, something that is freely chosen. Religious liberals however believe that sexual orientation is not a choice and is unchangeable. Thus, “lifestyle” will not be used to refer to a person’s homosexual orientation, but rather what choices gays and lesbians make- for example the terms of relationships they seek (www.religioustolerance.org).

The American Psychological Association defines sexual orientation as, “an enduring emotional, romantic, sexual or affectional attraction to another person. It is easily distinguished from other components of sexuality including biological sex, gender identity (the psychological sense of being male or female) and the social gender role (adherence to cultural norms for feminine and masculine behavior)… There are numerous theories about the origins of a person's sexual orientation; most scientists today agree that sexual orientation is most likely the result of a complex interaction of environmental, cognitive and biological factors… human beings can not choose to be either gay or straight. Sexual orientation emerges for most people in early adolescence without any prior sexual experience. Although we can choose whether to act on our feelings, psychologists do not consider sexual orientation to be a conscious choice that can be voluntarily changed.”

From my own standpoint, for as far back as I can remember during my preschool days, I knew I was different from other boys in the class. I was very well behaved and soft-spoken, was never into rough games, and preferred the companionship of female classmates playing Chinese garter and jackstone instead of being athletic and competitive like the rest of my male contemporaries. Whether it was nature or nurture that lead me to be the way I am, all I know is that I never asked to be different. In fact, growing up, I hated myself sometimes when I cried so easily or curse myself when I got ridiculed by my homophobic uncle with my slightly effeminate movements or maybe taunted by complete strangers on the street just because I walked a certain way. Frankly, after twenty six years of wondering, of asking myself, asking God, I decided it was high time that I accepted myself for who I am, even just for the sake of my own sanity and peace of mind. And even then, self acceptance is but the first step- wondering if my parents will still love me or my friends still want to be with me if I come out and tell them of my sexual orientation- that was another hurdle I needed to overcome.

Being Catholic makes it very hard to reconcile my faith and sexual orientation. It is clearly stated in Leviticus 20:13, "If a man lies with a man as one lies with a woman, both of them have done what is detestable. They must be put to death; their blood will be on their own heads.” According also to the book Bible Positions on Political Issues by John Hagee, he states that "God forbids homosexuality in order to protect humanity from sickness, disease, and a life of torment that leads to premature death…sexually transmitted diseases, most of which are virtually non-existent in the heterosexual population, are reaching epidemic proportions in some regions.”

I will not argue with what is written in the Sacred Scriptures (which is why, again being Catholic and gay is a paradox), but I would like to excoriate Hagee’s statement “STDs are virtually non-existent in the heterosexual population” as the recent rates of HIV show 1.3 million people in the United States and Canada were infected, and transmission through heterosexual intercourse is increasing. What I am getting at is that whether a person is homosexual or heterosexual, the risk for getting sexually transmitted diseases boils down to individual conduct. It doesn’t mean that when a person is gay that he/ she is automatically promiscuous and that when one is heterosexual automatically pure and chaste. Heterosexual single men and women can commit immoral acts when they have sex outside marriage since all those unmarried in the Catholic faith are called to celibacy, and those married are to stay faithful and monogamous otherwise they are adulterous. These very people who pass judgement on gays may very well be doing immoral acts themselves but society downplays that fact.

Maybe no one will ever be able to give a straight answer to questions about homosexuality, or perhaps maybe at this point people are too limited to understand the meaning of being Catholic and gay, but as far as I am concerned it is ultimately my Maker who will judge me. I do not think He is short sighted to overlook other aspects of myself and send me straight to hell just because I’m gay. He knows everything- my struggles, my hopes, my efforts to do good. At the end of the day, the important thing is that I have made peace with myself over this.

On the matter of gay marriage, it is another hotly-debated issue especially in progressive countries where legalization is on the process. Conservative Christians maintain that marriage is reserved for the begetting and raising of children. To allow homosexuals to marry would devalue the sanctity of marriage and the stabilizing force that should come with it (Hagee, 2004). Moreover, same sex unions would lead to greater approval of unconventional forms of cohabitation. An example is set in the Netherlands where a decline in the number of marriages- from 95,000 in 1990 to 82,000 in 2003. The same period experienced an alarming rise in illegitimate births- from one in ten children to one in three (van Mourik, 2004).

From the Liberal thinker’s point of view, marriage is a “contractual agreement between two individuals for the sake of mutual advantage and the generation and rearing of children to the point where they can be self-reliant (in Locke’s thinking) and capable of experiencing their individual rights in a responsible civic manner (Kant). They view traditional rules as “intrinsically oppressive”. Protestants think in the same lines, adding that “marriage is less about generation than about companionship”- this explains why some married heterosexual couples decide to have sex while staying childless.

I’d like to believe romantic love is something I am entitled to as much as the next heterosexual person- and I want to say my vows to the one I love, in front of the people I care about. Maybe the word “marriage” is something too big to ask, which is why I prefer to use the term “civil union”. A civil union entitles two consenting adults to have the same rights as a married heterosexual couple like acquiring the citizenship of one’s partner, conjugal property, adoption rights, among others. Ultimately, governments and courts decide on whether this will push through on a specific county. As far as the Catholic faith is concerned however, God recognizes only marriage between man and woman.

There are so many truths that are known to God alone, and cannot be resolved by men. Insofar as I have the strength to fight for what I believe in, and intelligence to discern right from wrong, I will continue to hold on to my values and principles to guide me through living the tumultuous life of a Catholic gay man. Through it all, I want to stay true to myself, I cannot think of anything more oppressive than living a life prescribed by somebody else who think he/she knows me better than I know myself.

Afterthought

Once upon a summer, I had all the time in the world and all I did was post one entry after another. Not only did I get to raise my point (regarding you-know-what) and entertain (somewhat), I also got to satisfy my inner exhibitionist. I’m in a slump nowadays. Check the entries- they have been dwindling in number since February.

This year I hoped to finish the second book (and perhaps get a real editor and publisher for the first book), but at the rate we’re going at school- it seems like nothing but a far-fetched dream.

Ok, the real problem isn’t just the time. It’s the pressure. After the eliminations at school (that painful part where people get cut off if they have an unsatisfactory GWA- so far three sections have been removed), the administration decided to group students according to grade point average- and all Dean’s Listers in Section A. Fun.

The first two years of Nursing, I made time to do the things I really love like travel and blog. I would do crazy things like in the middle of Finals week I would stay up late to make an entry or decide to go on a spur of the moment trip to Samar to take pictures of the ocean. I got a 1.69 GWA, which was decent enough. However, my laid-back approach won’t work this time around. Summer classes had begun and it’s Dean’s Lister vs. Dean’s Lister.

Ding, ding, ding!

Round 1, FIGHT!

I have also had a lot of things that happened to me which I promised a certain someone I won’t blog about it. I’m keeping that promise.

I’m in a strange territory in my life right now. Getting the BSN degree is something I’d commit to for sure, but there are a thousand questions I’m still asking myself. After finishing, should I go back to my old job? Being a Team Manager had been one of the jobs I’ve truly loved. Should I apply as a nurse abroad? Work in a Cruise Ship (a job I’d wanted to try)? Apply for Med School? I’m no longer that fresh faced young adult with a lot of options. Only a soon-to-be 30 yr old has been Landscape Architect, has been Team Manager, wannabe writer, and soon-to-be-Nurse.

Secretly I want to quit for a year and just try my luck as a writer. That, of course, is something I’d never mention in front of people. Shhh… Now’s not the time to make another detour. I know that, but I still keep hoping I’d get a chance to really see if I could really make it.

I guess life never makes it easy. After all, where’s the fun in that?

Buhay Amerika at Canada

Hindi ba nakakatawa, na maraming Pilipinong gustong pumunta ng America? Isa na ako dun. Nung nagbakasyon kasi yung mga kapatid ko, wow! As in bago lahat ng gamit. Abercrombie & Fitch shirts (i-narbor ko agad!), Gucci na relos (i-narbor ko din!), pabango, at maski US Navy na shorts i-narbor ko na rin (LOL!).

Amoy America pa yung mga gamit na yun. Ang impression ng tao dito, pag galing US mayaman. Ang brother ko, nagtrabaho sa mall sa isang Candy Shop ng isang Vietnamese. Tapos nun nag janitor sa ospital kung saan nurse si Mama. Si Papa naman Nursing Aide sa isa pang ospital (Med Tech siya dito pero sa US kailangang mag-exam uli, ayaw pa ni Papa). Di ko lang naisip hanggang nabasa ko yung bulletin na yun na mahirap talaga ang buhay doon. Di pwedeng tambay. Puro utang mula gasolina para sa sasakyan, hanggang pagkain- at ang utang dapat bayaran sa tamang panahon. Kundi may multa.

Nung makita ko yung mga litrato nila sa Louisiana- ang ganda ng bahay! Yung mga furniture sa mga rooms, yung kitchen super modern, yung dalawang kotse sa garahe (wala kami ni pedicab dito sa Pinas!)… Sabi ko, as in kakarerin ko na talaga ang Nursing para ako na ang kasunod na makakapunta. Di ko naisip utang pala yung mga yon. Mas OK pa rin buhay dito.

Teka lang, magkano ba sweldo ng nurse dito sa Pinas? Sobrang liit! Ayoko ngang i-mention kasi nakaka-depress… Minsan tuloy naiisip ko kung mali na nag-resign ako sa dati kong trabaho para mag-aral ng Nursing. Chika lang, as in iniisip ko lang. Bakit ba kasi sobrang nagma-matter yung sweldo? Para marami akong mabili? Wala rin naman akong masyadong naipon dati.

Hmm, pag-iisipan ko pa. Ayan, I was just thinking out loud. Eto po yung bulletin na sinasabi ko:

Akala ng mga tao na nasaPilipinaskapag nasa Amerika o Canada ka akala nila madamika nang pera. Ang totoo, madami kangutang, dahil credit card lahat ang gamit mo sa pagbili mo ng mga gamit.

Kailangan mo gumamit ng credit cardpara magka credit history ka, kasi paghindi ka umutang o wala kang utang,hindi ka pagkakatiwalaan ng mga kano.Pag wala kang credit card, ibig sabihin wala kang kapasidad magbayad.

Akala nila mayaman kana kasi may kotseka. Ang totoo, kapag hindi ka bumiling kotse sa Amerika maglalakad ka ngmilya-milya sa ilalim ng init ng araw okaya sa snow. Walang jeepney, tricycle opadyak sa Amerika at Canada.

Akala nila masarap ang buhay dito sa Amerika at Canada. Ang totoo puro ka trabaho kasipag di ka nagtrabaho, wala kang pangbayad ng bills mo sa kotse, creditcard, ilaw, tubig, insurance, bahay atiba pa. Hindi ka pwedeng tumambay sakapit bahay kasi busy din sila maghanapbuhay pangbayad ng bills nila.

Akala nila masaya ka kasi nagpadala kang pictures mo sa Disney, Seaworld, SixFlags, Universal Studios, Niagra Falls at iba pangattractions. Ang totoo kailangan mongngumiti kase nagbayad ka ng $70+ paramakarating ka dun, kailangan mo naman ang 10 hours na sweldo mong pinangbayad sa ticket.

Akala nila malaki na kinikita mo kasidolyar na sweldo mo. Ang totoo malakipag pinalit mo ng peso pero dolyar dinang gastos mo sa Amerika at Canada. Ibig sabihin,ang dolyar mong kinita sa presyongdolyar mo din gagastusin. Ang P15.00 nasardinas sa Pilipinas, $1.00 sa Amerika at Canada, ang isang pakete ng sigarilyosa Pilipinas P40.00. sa Amerika at Canada $6.50,ang upa mo sa bahay na P10,000.00 sa Pilipinas, sa Amerika at Canada $1,000.00++

Akala nila buhay milyonaryo ka na kasiang ganda ng bahay at kotse mo. Ang totoo milyon ang utang mo. Ang bago mong kotse 5 taon mong huhulugan. Ang bahay 30 taon mong huhulugan. Ibig sabihin alipin ka ng bahay at kotse mo.Madaming naghahangad na makarating sa Amerika at Canada, lalo na mga nurse. Mahirap maging normal na manggagawa dito, madalas pagod ka sa trabaho.

The Past Bites Me In The Ass

Had I wanted to be a Landscape Architect, I would have worked in an Architectural firm and pursued this career with much gusto all these years (despite the meager wages). Right now, a close relative had given a proposal which would have been exciting had I still been in that industry- to design a resort. They have a fishpond property which they want to turn into a family resort with a lot of swimming pools and cottages. Here are my reasons why I didn’t jump at the chance:

1. The same fishpond that I went to more than ten years ago, I remember, is an island that is accessible only by pump boat from a small, smelly fish port. I don’t know about you but in my experience, fish smell hardly drives tourists in.

2. It was not a white sand island like the ones in Samar, in fact it resembled marsh lands more than paradise. The sand, no the silt, is muddy, dark, and soft. No corals, no clear azure waters.

3. Given that it is an island and accessibility is a problem, one would have to address the question of accommodations. Overnight cottages may get pricey, not to mention maintenance of the swimming pools.

4. Lastly, who would actually go visit? Locals? Not international tourists, that’s for sure. Relatives and family friends perhaps, but not tourists. I have visited some of the best tourist destinations we have in our country and the common denominator they have is the awesome natural wonders. That is why people take time to visit, and believe me they would not be visiting a sleepy town for a bunch of swimming pools. I wouldn’t.

I wish I could share my aunt’s vision, but my assessment of the place suggests that they’d better rethink it. Put the money elsewhere- a white sand beach in Guiuan. Now that’s worth going to. Or am I just crazy?

Potter's Magic

After watching the hilarious bisaya spoof, I said to myself I simply must see the real Harry Potter series. Ok, so I’m a little late getting into this movie; and yes, I am aware Daniel Radcliff had already grown pubes and all.

I tried recalling why I snubbed this movie, and suddenly it came to me- during the annual release of each installment, it always coincided with The Lord of the Rings premiere. Come on, who could resist the homoerotic undertones and electricity in the Frodo-Sam and Legolas-Aragorn tandems? It was bye bye Potter for me.

So now I’ve just begun to get acquainted with the Griffindorfs and the Slitherins (did I spell those correctly?) and I must say, they are the best companions on school nights, when going clubbing is out of question. I just watch a couple of minutes (say twenty) and then drift off to sleep. Works better than watching National Geographic Channel!

Let me just clarify, I’m not saying the movie is boring. It just the kind of light, entertaining tale I would savor night after night. Ah, nothing like an evening escape from the rigors of Biochem.

BD07: A Last Look and a Look Ahead

In the midst of doing all the preparations for my party, I was struck with a certain thought: how much things have changed, and how much things remained the same. This will be the first time that I’d be celebrating my birthday in a big way (a far cry from my last birthday party when I was 11), and I was just hit by a sudden melancholy.

It has been two years since I last earned my wages. By now, I imagine most of the people at my former office are new and have replaced those who have gone to take a different job. Is my team still intact? It’s hard to part completely with the people you once coached and managed closely for more than two years.

Looking at my guest list, there are but a few names of people I’ve known for more than four years. I can’t really say it’s a celebration with my closest friends. Yes, I’m that kind of person- it takes a while for me to warm up to people, but once we become good friends, it’s for keeps. The problem with my philosophy is that life usually does not allow us the luxury of time- give or take a few years and drastic changes would happen, and you would eventually have to move on. Gone are the familiar faces, and in its place are strange people you are not even sure you’d get along with.

I’ve always did my best to make the right decisions, so I don’t usually blame myself if I encounter pitfalls in my current trajectory. Becoming adept and familiar with the new path (and learning to love and appreciate what one does) is essential for a person to enjoy the present. Come to think of it, I’ve only begun to warm up to what I do now.

My environment and the people around me- they constantly change, but some things do remain the same. The greatest of which I have been always thankful for is my family. Although I don’t see my parents and brothers everyday, they are always supportive of me (in fact they are paying for this party lol!).

Maybe I’m still trying to recreate those Galera-Boracay type of vacations I used to enjoy with office friends. Or maybe I’m celebrating my new set of friends. Or maybe I’m just thankful for being given by God 27 (gulp!) great years. Heck, just this once I won’t feel guilty about the cost- after all this won’t happen everyday. I’ll make this party a celebration of good times in the past, present, and those yet to come. Cheers!

Just Like This

Ever had that feeling that you just wanted things to remain a certain way? Like that vacation you had with your family and friends, where days were spent lying on the sand and relaxing without a care in the world. Everybody’s happy- no deadlines to catch, no disappointments to deal with, no pain. But of course we inevitably have to return to reality, and move on.

I remember when I was about 17, and I went home for the holidays during the semester break at UP. It was such a perfect Christmas- my dad had come home, all my brothers were there, my cousins, and Mama was off duty from the hospital where she worked as a nurse. The money was good so my parents really went all out- a lavish menu, fireworks, and gifts for everybody. I had so much fun that night, I hardly slept a wink. I kept savoring the feeling of bliss, hoping that night wouldn’t end. But morning came, and then another day, and eventually I had to return to school and my father had to leave for Saudi again.

As much as I tried to have a holiday like that again, I failed. Eventually time came when Papa could only go home every two years (and seldom during the holidays), the following Christmases Mama had to work, my brothers and I grew older and of course, things were never really the same. There was no more excitement or anticipation unlike the time when we were kids. My cousins came and went.

Maybe it was meant only to be an unforgettable, beautiful night- nothing lasting. I kept picturing that ideal time when are our relationships were perfect, and nothing was weird or awkward.

I’ve changed, and so did everyone. Life gives us a lot of twists, and things don’t always turn out the way you expect them to. Nevertheless, I vowed to keep trying to improve my relationships with my family and friends- those happy times are what I live for. I’m sure, one day; we might have that perfect holiday again.

A Sorry Sight

I was sitting on a hard concrete bench, inside the mausoleum of my uncle. Beside me were my nieces, who also had just arrived from Tacloban. It was All Souls Day, and the scorching heat did little to deter the hundreds who came to visit the graves of their loved ones here in my father’s hometown. It was one of those Pinoy traditions, having a largely Catholic population, to observe religious holidays with a gathering of family and distant relatives. One would have thought it was a fiesta, if not for the freshly painted graves that lined the path.

A few feet away, just outside the gate, something caught my eye. An old woman was eating by herself, sitting on top of a grave. She was dressed in black, her clothes fitting poorly, and a broken rosary hung on her neck. She ate with her fingers from a plastic container; and all she was having for lunch was rice.

It was a pitiful sight, this old woman. We decided to give her some of our food, and my cousin and nephew put some on a paper plate, approached her and handed the food. She smiled in a gesture of thanks. Her eyes were almost blind from the cataracts and she had to grope for her bottle of water near her feet.

I was guessing she was one of those old ladies who would say the rosary (parapamatbat in waray) for the departed, and in exchange they would be given a small fee. We were already done praying earlier, with another old lady who led the rosary.

I continued to watch her as she finished her meal. I wondered how she was like when she was young. Was she able to go to school? Did she have children? Did she still have a family?

After her meal, she places her plastic container inside a tattered bag. I notice a tarnished ring on her finger- a remainder of a marriage probably long lost. She stoops as she walks; a sign of the advanced stages of Osteoporosis. She walks slowly with a cane, her bag and umbrella on her other hand.

I say a silent prayer for the old woman. And another of thanks, this time for my grandmother who was fortunate enough to have a family that cares for her a great deal. How hard it must be, to be old and have no one to care for you.

New Sensibilities

“I think the purpose of life is to be useful,
to be responsible,
to be honorable,
to be compassionate.

It is, after all, to matter:
To count,
To stand for something,

To have made some difference that you lived at all.”

-Leo Rosten

Ano Pa it Akon Masisiring? (What More Can I Say?)

Char! Hagi karisyu la. Happy talaga ako yana, una kay nag-promise ak ha akon kalugaringon nga maabot ko an 250 nga posts before magtikang an klase. Ika 250 ko ini yana so malipayon gud ako.

Ngatanan na siguro nga sentimiento na yakan ko na dinhi. Lima na kabulan ini, ngan damo na gihap an nanabo. Mayda nagusto han akon trabaho, mayda gihap nadire. An akon la pinakamaupay nga gin buhat- waray gud ako padara han mga nagtamay ha ak. Sireng pa man, “you can’t please everybody”. Dire mo gihap mapipirit an tawo nga karuyagon ka, so kun nadire hira Ok gad la. Hopefully, dire na makig-aragway hira. Blogging is supposed to be fun, and negativity from anyone sucks the fun out of it. Siguro respeto nala. Amo it problema ha net, kay mostly anonymous an mga tawo and they can get away with doing atrocities since they are not obliged to take responsibility for what they say or do. Hagi, bangin may kato ada. Joke!

An usa pa nga akon wish, nga ma-improve ko an akon skills pag surat. Waray man ak nakapag-iskwela hin Creative Writing or kun ano pa man nga arts nga gusto ko kunta, dinhe gud la it akon practice. Salit danay mayda mga typo, damo it sayop, dingani chaka gud an ak gin surat. It’s hard to train yourself to write well with no one to give you direction.

An last, narisyuhan la ak han mga tawo nga na meet ko thru blogging- a very interesting bunch (after all, not everyone can do this di’ba? Or dire la ada interesado. Pero for sure creative ine hira, amo nga may blog). Hi Josh pala an akon na kit-an in person. Hopefully mas damo pa in the future. Ngan hopefully mayda mga taga-tacloban nga bloggers! Naawa talaga ak hit ira mga kirigta. Marisyo.

So amo la, salamat han imo pagbisita dinhe = ) Despite all our struggles and all the hardships- it’s still quite a beautiful world (linya ada ito han Desiderata lol!). Maupay nga adlaw ha aton nga tanan. Charmos!

On Blogging

There are no hard rules to blogging, and that’s the main reason for diversity. There is a blog out there with every imaginable theme, topic, tone, and whatnot. We blog for different reasons, and we also have a different set of criteria to measure our fulfillment.

I find it funny. I didn’t even know what a blog was five months ago, and now I’m hooked into the whole thing. Blog communities, widgets, links, templates, profiles, you name it. Of course, I got nosebleeds trying to figure out what html, csv, xml, rss mean. The best part however, aside from self-expression, is the interaction you get with fellow bloggers and virtually anyone who strays into your website.

Bored? You can find a humor blog or perhaps something that would cater to your interest. Confused? Now there are a lot of blogs discussing issues (gay issues mainly, at least in our side of blogosphere) and perhaps you can find clarity in their discussions. Blogging is a whole new way of connecting with people.

“I get what you are saying.” “That happened to me before.” “Thank you for posting this.” Through our articles, our minds are enclosed in the same single thought. That is just fantastic. Each blogger brings his own flavor, and so I say- bring it on! Long live bloggers!

On Aging

I’m getting old. I can’t see it yet, but I feel it. There’s this sort of lethargy creeping up and slowly draining my energy. You know the feeling when you’re young, and you are like that Energizer bunny? You work eight hours, travel, get drunk on a party, make out, stay up all night, and still have the energy to go snorkeling or hiking the next day. I’ve missed that, the past few months.

It’s partly my fault, I guess. I haven’t had the chance to exercise like I did back then. Lift weights thrice a week, maybe swim during the weekend. Now it’s just school and home Mondays to Saturdays (and Sundays are spent preparing for Mondays); having a 31 unit workload surely leaves time for little else. Breaks should be spent doing a little exercise and perhaps gaining some muscle, but no, I spend it catching up on sleep.

Of course, there’s also the fact that we get a lot more responsibilities as we get older. One wrinkle per one major responsibility.

“Do we really need to grow up?” Asks Tatat, my bestfriend, the female Peter Pan.

“Of course, silly. We can’t be kids forever. Your tits will eventually sag.” I answer.

Such is the normal cycle of life. My motto when I was a teenager was right: make the most out of your youth. Lose yourself in the pursuit of fun, experience, and discovery. Go on a trip. Party with friends. Stay up late watching DVDs in your first apartment. Before you know it, things will be moving along, and everyone will be taking on their final direction that would take them to their destiny. People get married, have kids, and grow old.

I’ve always thought I’d be among the youngest TMs (at 23, I was), until younger people got in, and the older ones moved on. I’ve always thought Tatat and I would have so much fun getting a place together, but we went our separate ways. I’ve always thought I’d be that young cute guy you see at a party, until I see my nephews and nieces, who overnight turned into young men and women, at the same party.

Time to move on and take on new roles. They say age is nothing but a number, but I know it catches up with you eventually. Hello arthritis!

I was never the same person I was again. But now I don’t mind it that much. The discovery continues, only now I take on adventures of a different nature. And oh, those wrinkles? Just in case my face creams won’t work, I’ll just welcome them. The lines on our faces tell the stories of our lives, and I think I have a pretty interesting one to tell.

Between Nowhere and Goodbye

I swear, this will be the last rant of my adult life.

I just got back from enrollment today and I’m clutching my grade sheet in my right hand. The lowest grade was 1.9 and the highest 1.0, overall GWA 1.58. I should be happy, really but somehow I feel just… lost. That’s the word I was looking for.

I’ve always felt it was like a step back to study again full time, but I promised myself last year I’d give it a chance and soon I’ll reap the fruits of my labor. No one promised a career change would be easy. Not that it’s hard; it’s just that I usually stop and ask myself… where is this going? And I honestly don’t have the answer.

If Tacloban is one big airport, I’m still in the pre-departure area and it’s been an eternity waiting in line. Where’s the plane to take me to my destination? Give me a telescope so I can at least see a glimpse. Nobody can give me answers, not even my parents- I know that. Only time will tell. I have never vocalized these thoughts and when someone asks I always have my I’m-happy-where-I-am speech on cue (complete with a beatific, serene smile).

What a whiner, you say. I know, I know. Not everyone is fortunate enough to be given a chance to study and I should be thankful. I know I should have faith and trust God with His plans for me but…

I just don’t see it. Give me a clue, a sign. Send me a moth, or some sort of omen. Another grueling 31 unit-semester is about to start, complete with Biochem and Microbiology and I want to just pull my hair. Where is this going? I’ve read the Purposeful Life and all that stuff, I love my family, and I know I’m doing this for them as well as for myself but right now I’m just lost. I feel like I’m on a standstill.

My friends have all gone off and got married. Had kids. Finished medicine or have gone to live abroad. The million dollar question is where did I go wrong?

Postscript:

I published this 9 hours ago, went to sleep, woke up and removed it. After opening my mail, I got a note from someone I asked to read the post to get his opinion. This the note he sent (I hope he doesn’t mind that I shared it).

“so u removed it. so your blog is just a showcase of "what i think will be liked by my reading public? so the blog is nothing but a facade anyway?i am disappointed.the write up you deleted showed your beautiful and honest human side. you just unmasked yourself there and you are afraid of what people might say.. what is wrong with being honest and true with yourself and show that with others? you saw it as a weakness instead of strength.the write up you deleted reflects the real you. thats how i perceive u to be even before.. you have put on a facade to please others but not urself..i can only say so much, but please u have to realize things urself.when we write a blog we open different cans. sometimes cans of worms.its disppointing u wld rather share how you sucked a guy in the expressway when there are matters worth sharing. not everything has to be let out in public. the more u share taboo things, like things we do in bed, the more people wont take people like us seriously.”

I removed the post because it still felt a bit raw. Being disappointed is not one of my favorite feelings, and for a while there I just wanted to pretend it never happened. But it did happen, and reflecting on it now there’s nothing more I can do than move on and learn from it. You are right when you said there are matters worth sharing. Thanks for raising the point.

Ms. Teacher ng Mataas na Paaralan ng Pilipinas

Overworked and underpaid. That would describe the situation our public elementary and high school teachers are in, here in our country, and especially in the provinces. No wonder some (emphasis on some) of them come up with a lot of "creative" solutions to cope with the financial hardships. These are some of them:

1. Selling ice-candy and puto during recess.
“Class you make take your break. Who wants to buy ice candy? You can pay me later.” Said Mrs. Grade three teacher.

2. School supplies, anyone?
“Get one whole intermediate paper. For those who don’t have, you may buy from me. I also have bond paper, ballpens…”

3. You will automatically get a grade of 90% for your project if you contribute______ for ______.
Fill in the blanks. A friend once remarked, they contributed money supposedly to buy electric fans for the classroom but up until they graduated high school, they failed to materialize.

4. Delegating tasks not meant for students.
Pulling grass, sweeping the streets, applying floor wax was part of our curriculum. And because our teachers were handling a lot of classes, the checking of papers would usually be delegated to the top students of the class.

5. The dreaded PTA (Patay, Tatay Aragmot na naman- aragmot in waray means contribution).
“Ask your parents to come tomorrow for the PTA meeting.” To students, that only meant one thing- another round of contribution.

The result is poor quality of education. How can public school teachers focus on giving the best training when their needs are not met?

Because of the large student population, public school teachers are usually given more load than they can handle. In a class, there would also be around 45-50+ students. With those numbers, the teacher will not be able to function effectively, let alone monitor each student’s progress.

There are, of course, great shining examples that stand out from the bunch- noble, dedicated educators who take their job seriously in molding the minds of young people. But low salaries and delayed pay are realities they have to deal with and it would be so easy for them to turn to these “solutions”.

In my years studying in a public school, it’s a little sad to see the real situation in our public educational system- the lack of classrooms, lack of adequate facilities (we lacked chairs in our dilapidated classrooms), lack of books, and most of all, the people in high places just sit and watch these things happen.

Our students are not wanting in talent or in brains and we need motivated and well-trained public school teachers to help students maximize their potential. Correct me if I’m wrong, but more than 70% of youngsters in the Philippines study in public schools. It would be a shame to see our greatest resources go to waste, just because our government failed to invest in our public school system.

Perhaps it is time for our public school teachers to be given due compensation for their efforts.

Proud Skin

Have you seen what a tattoo machine looks like? Imagine a sewing machine, only less bulky. The needle used is a sterile syringe needle; the artist first draws a preliminary pattern on your skin, dips the needle in ink and turns the machine on.

Ouch! It feels like hot wires on my skin. After painstaking minutes (or hours, depending on your design), the area is swabbed with petroleum jelly, and covered in gauze. In a few days the tattoo would scab and peel, and the permanent mark is now set.

So why would a puny 20 year old, who is afraid of needles, get one? That, my friend remains a mystery even to me. Mind you, I didn’t have mine done at some mall establishment, no Sir! I went to Quiapo, of all places, and found the seediest tattoo place with a scary-looking artist. Upon seeing my “innocent looking young face”, he commented to his pals “Akin na lang ‘to.” And they all burst out laughing.

I swallowed my fear and gave him my drawing- it was an Egyptian scarab beetle. He looked at me a little differently after seeing my drawings. I guess artists do connect on some level, whatever media it is they work on. So we climbed a flight of narrow stairs to his even seedier-looking studio and asked me to sit on the tattered sofa.

“500.” He says. I nodded in agreement. By the time he was swabbing the area with alcohol, all the blood drained from my face. He peeled packaging of the syringe needle and went to work.

Looking back, I had to give that scrawny 95 pound UP student some credit. Also, I wanted to hit him in the head with a tattoo machine for getting three tattoos. It makes me laugh really, the reason why I got my first one- I felt I was too “vanilla” and I thought I’d look sexy and “bad-boyish” if I got one. The next two, I had more personal reasons.

Voluntary scars, that’s what they were. I always remembered having this feeling- perhaps defiance, or non-conformity and I wanted myself never to forget that I chose to be different. You’ll get what I mean when we are on the same wavelength.

I still don’t know how it will look like when it’s lasered off. Will it be gone completely like they never were there in the first place? Or would I still see hints of what once was my proud skin? Of course, I now know much of who I am is way deeper than my skin. I’ll just miss them, that’s all.

You are Truly Pinoy if..

Left: We're pinoy and we love to eat!!
1. You eat pancit or spaghetti as “palaman” for your sliced bread.

2. You eat longanisa and dangit with rice for breakfast.

3. Going home from a party, you’d still eat at home because you think dinner’s not dinner unless there’s rice.

4. There’s always tuyo or bagoong on the table. Speaking of which, you also eat green mango with bagoong. (Yum!)

5. You save tissue paper from restaurants and food establishments as “remembrance”.

6. You crave balot late at night.

7. You’ve eaten isaw, adidas, bopis and other assorted chicken parts except the feathers (you’d save that to use as duster or for your headdress, or as part of your anting-anting).
8. Fiestas are big deal to you.

9. You bring pasalubong after each trip.

10. When you were a kid, you played Langit Lupa, Patintero, Holen, Chinese Garter, Piko, and Sato.
11. You’ve added an “h” to your first name. Jhenny, Dhanny.. Well, Thaddeus has the h already, so there’s no need. Or should it be Thhad? Kidding.

12. Your nickname is one syllable repeated. Yanyan, Tintin, etc. Thad-thad? Too much! LOL

13. You say “Tabi po” when you are in the woods, so as not to anger the spirits.

14. You wear t-shirt and shorts (or heaven forbid, long sleeves) while bathing at the beach.

15. You are an expert in haggling. Once, a vendor was selling you an item for Php 20 and you still asked for “tawad”.

16. You use crappy stuff (kitchen utensils, linens, towels) because you only bring out the good ones when there are visitors.

17. You’d give up your bed for your bisita.

As a bonus, you are definitely Waray if you:

Talk loudly all the time, people think you are angry. Tagalogs, Cebuanos- they talk so melodious, not so much with us. But we’re actually quite jolly ; )

You have a relatively short fuse. (Or is it just me?) May pagka “maisog” (matapang? I’m not sure if that’s the exact equivalent Tagalog term).

No one messes with you. Hehe We pinoys definitely got flava!

Austere Philosophy from an Old Pair of Pants

My pants are ripping apart. These are an old pair of black slacks I used to wear in the office, once part of my work wardrobe. The first tear began at the crotch, just a tiny bit- you won’t even see it until you look closely. Nanay mended it for me, unfortunately not too subtly, because she used red-colored thread. Now the sides are already splitting in the seams near my right hip. I am troubled. No one wants to do the full monty in a Catholic institution.

These are the only black pants I wear with my uniform. I know I should have bought perhaps another pair, but back when I enrolled last year- it was almost a spur of the moment decision for me, thus I wasn’t really sure I’d pursue it. So from June of 2006, I would wear this pair from Monday to Saturday, washing it on Wednesday and Sunday nights and hanging it to dry at the back of the fridge so I can wear it again the next day. It never occurred to me to buy another pair; and even now, more than a year later. I thought to myself- God willing, if I make it to Level 3 I would be wearing the all-white uniform anyway, since we would be mostly stationed at the assigned hospital.

You are probably shaking your head, saying “Let it go! Buy two pairs!” Maybe I’m just a sentimental schmuck, but like the thought that these old pair have gone with me through the long haul of a career change. I like the fact that they have endured the wears and tears and have maximized their use.

I used to be a clotheshorse back in the days. I spent a chunk of my wages buying outfits (these pants were actually one half of my favorite black suit) and I loved being dressed up for work, especially when executives from our big clients would visit the office. I still have those clothes, tucked away in a locked suitcase and smelling of mothballs. Would they still look good on me? I often wondered.

Like the past slowly dissolving, all of my things from work have deteriorated through time. I’m a little pissed, and maybe a little sad about it- but I’m having the time of my life with all my current adventures. I mostly dress down now, since there are no client meetings to go to or interviews- just going to school and traveling around the province. I’m content, I really am. Happy that at last I’ve looked beyond the material gauge of success- it’s a life lesson learned.

In Retrospect..

It’s been four months since I came out, and I thought it would be interesting to note the changes that occurred, if at all there were any. Like a bright-eyed sophomore, I anticipated that my move would change the way people would see me, and how they perceive gay people in general.

For the first two months of the present semester I was met by a variety of reactions, from shock, to disgust, to indifference, and eventually acceptance. The word about my blog reached the ears of some of the faculty members; this bit of information I learned from my Anatomy teacher (after which I hurried home and removed my risqué hot men pictures). I was even indulged in a discourse with my Theology professor who insisted in seeing me, partly because she wanted to know how I was doing, and partly because she was curious of how I felt last semester during her discussions on books like Leviticus which denounce homosexuality.

After some objectionable episodes happened in the classroom, I was hoping that my articles about gay life that were published would make an impact to people. The question remains: were there any changes in people’s perceptions at all?

Just yesterday this happened: Instructor 1 was discussing the mechanics of the next PRS (bed bathing and effleurage). Instructor 2 asks: “Sir, what about those people who belong to the third sex? Are they going to be partnered with their other classmates?

At any other time I would have raised my objections, but I thought: What’s the point? I have tried to convince practically anyone who would listen that sexual orientation should not be an issue, but apparently the culture here is stronger. I simply turned back to my readings, not out of contempt or resignation, but simply of my decision to do better things with my time.

Third sex, bayot- the words meant to refer to and debase gay people no longer conjure any feelings of indignation in me. Though I still believe people’s attitudes may change- I also know it won’t happen overnight. The say you can’t control how other people would feel or act; you can only control yourself. I guess I did change, I’ve learned to focus my energies on doing something constructive, instead of engaging in pointless debates and discussions. For now, that will do.

"Un-Chekhov"

I learned three things today:

1. Anton Chekhov was probably one of the best short story writers ever.
2. You can’t compose a short story in a day (more so if you lack inspiration!).
3. Starting a new blog is a lot harder than continuing an old one.

I barely finished Anton Chekhov’s The Shoemaker and The Devil, when I found myself nodding. The handout was probably correct; reading the works of this Russian dramatist can teach one more about short story writing than any creative writing professor. Engaging and imaginative, I guess the appeal of his writings lie also in its ability to speak to a wide audience.

In between return demos, trips to hospitals (for research purposes), trips to the seminary (for Christology research), trips to Samar (for the beaches!), worksheets, quizzes, and long exams, I tried to squeeze in a day this week allotted to writing a short story for Lit. Sounds like a great plan, until you have writer’s block. Not fun. You twist and turn, walk back and forth, binge on anything you can chow down, you decide to sit and just “get it over with”. As soon as you position your pen over your paper- nothing. Can I just use the stories I already made? Nope, I already gave the exposition of the story I was supposed to write (which turned out one of those stories I never finish). Damn!

New account, check! Header, check! Concept, check! It sounded exciting to get the ball rolling, but as I tried to get a widget for the new blog, I realized other tasks that need to be accomplished. Templates, label clouds, counters, links.. The list goes on and on. I decided the easier thing to do was to just stick with the old one.

I think most bloggers go through that phase of “uncertainty” (Where is this going? How will this turn out? What if I try this?). It could be boredom, the lack of ideas, tired of critiques from wannabe critics, or simply just lack the time- whatever the reason, it certainly allows one to reevaluate the motives of blogging. With renewed clarity, I turned on my laptop to make this entry. Perhaps the idea for the short story will surface soon enough.. I’ll let you know.