Parking angel

 I have just got to say this...God hears all our prayers...even the smallest, most trivial of them all.

I was rushing to the mall one late afternoon to buy a very vital piece of item - SHOES! And not just a pair of high heeled comfort sole shoes but a pair of high heeled comfort sole shoes on sale!   With a sale going on, I knew parking was going to be a challenge.  And so as I neared the  mall, I kept praying, "Lord, please send me your parking angel! Please, please open "slots" of opportunities for me." 

Even with the "Full" sign on, I went in the parking area inside the mall.  I drove past rows of jammed parking spaces.  I turned around to try my luck on other lanes only to find them packed with cars.  As I made yet another turn, I heard a whisper, "Slow down".  It was so clear and  pronounced that I turned my head in reflex at the sound of that soft voice.  Slow down I did and drove the car to a crawl.  After a few seconds, a couple appeared from nowhere and rushed to get in the car where I waited.

Swoosh! The car glided in the space so tightly guarded by my parking angel.  

So here I am, about to head out and face the traffic.  Will be calling my "hawi" angel sson. : ) 

Iñigo moments

My 10-month old nephew is such a delight to be with.  He smiles at everybody and everything...and I mean EVERY THING.

One time while being carried by his mom at the mall with the whole family (and by whole I mean the whole she-bang - mom, dad, granma, granpa, cousins, uncle, aunt, yaya and driver to boot), they saw him smiling at no one ...or so they thought.  They looked around and no one was nearby for Iñigo to give a smile to.  Granma looked at the direction of Inigo's smile and, lo and behold, he was giving a wide toothless smiling at the poster of  a K-pop star endorser with a big toothy smile.  

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Iñigo has limited vocabulary as is expected from a 10-month old baby.  But I just love the words he has learned so far.

The first word he learned was "A-te" for ate Isabel (awwww)

Then he learned to say "Dad",  then , "Pop" (for papa which we all lovingly call granpa), then, "Ma" (for mama which is the endearment for granma).

But my favorite word so far is his term for his mommy which he calls (braze yourself) ..."Dede!"  He cries out for his mom, "Dede! Dede!"

our own little Vietcong

NEGA-star

There really is no need for you blink twice, it won't change. And no, it's not a misspell. I am a Negastar.  But with the birth of the Transformer Robots, I guess it’s just in style to call me a NEGA-tron instead...well, at least I was a  NEGA-tron.

I used to worry like crazy it made the people around me go crazy.  I was so panicky, it stressed people out.  I was always on edge. I’d go into frantic and anxiety attacks about things that have not happened and might actually never happen. 

In my travels, if I’m not en route to the airport at least 4 hours before my flight, I panic and go into a mantra saying, “I’m going to miss my flight. I’m going to miss my flight…”

My sister tries to calm me down and tells me to think positively.  And I try! I change my mantra to, “I’m positive I’m going to miss my flight. I’m so positive I’m going to miss my flight….”    

I’d easily get anxious about the traffic, the weather, the bills, my work, my bosses, my friends, my sister and her family, my health, my love life (weeeeeh! char!)… I worried just about everything else.   I did mention I was a NEGA-tron!  

But I have come to see that every moment – that moment in a heavy traffic, that moment when my laptop crashes just when I need it for a presentation, that moment when the queue is sooo long breakfast has turned to dinner, when a loved one is sick, when I’m amidst strangers speaking in a strange language in a strange island called Cebu, that moment when I’m slapped with more work than anyone can handle   - is where God is.  And to complain, to worry, to panic, to stress IS to show ingratitude to where HE has put me at that moment. 

Many times I fail miserably and  let my negative thoughts get the better of me.  But I bounce back, allowing God’s grace and divine providence to work it’s miracle in my chaotic life.   I’ve come to learn that when I offer and lift that moment to my Father, everything works out and falls into its proper place. 

My transformation from being a NEGA-tron is a slow one.  But I’m moving along and am so looking forward to becoming OPTIMISTIC Prime! 

TRANSFORMERS - Volt in! (Ngyeeee! Naging Voltes V) 

Me time

It was a rainy Saturday afternoon in Cebu City.  It was “alone” time for me  - a rare treat for me not to be in the office as is my usual sched on a Saturday; I didn’t join the tour of the city by officemates from our Panay office;  I didn’t go to the mall.   It was “me” time, donned in comfy clothes (a.k.a “pambahay”), enjoying browsing through the internet on my laptop while having coffee at the Brown Cup Café, a cozy coffee shop just a minute’s walk from my apartment building. 

I had come across a video of this 10-year old girl, Jackie Evancho, belting out an operatic rendition of the Lord’ Prayer.  It was amazing! It was gripping! Her performance was touching! And I thought to myself, “I have GOT to show this music vid to mommy.  She’d enjoy this!”   

It took about 2 seconds for reality to sink in – my mom’s not here anymore.  It has been five years and I think of her all the time…but for the nth time, I had actually forgotten I wouldn’t be going home to her funny and loving presence.  For the nth time, I had forgotten she wasn’t waiting up for me on a late night.  For the nth time I had forgotten I wouldn’t be able to buy this blouse I saw in the mall which I thought perfect for her.   For the nth time I had actually forgotten she is gone.

My view of the laptop screen blurred as my eyes filled with tears, threatening to fall and ruin my make-up (J).   I looked out the window, avoiding the eyes of anyone looking on.   Surprisingly, while there was pain and heartache, I felt, more than anything else, blessed…wonderfully blessed!  Blessed to have had the fun times with mom, the long talks, the lessons, the love. 

Am once again reminded of how short life is, of cherishing the here and the now, of appreciating – and showing it to – the ones we love, of overlooking the flaws and centering on the good, of how beautiful life is, of how generous and merciful our Father is. 

Am once again reminded that though mom has gone on, I am not alone.  I have been gifted with an awesome presence – YOU.  

Father

Wally, a colleague in the office, is a proud new father to a cute 5-month old baby boy, Elijah.  One time, he was showing off pics from his mobile phone of baby Elijah with a big toothless smile, of Elijah sitting awkwardly in-between cushions, of Elijah doing absolutely doing nothing but look curiously at the camera.   Wally was beaming with pride!  And I wondered why…Elijah was doing what every baby boy does.

Not to be outdone, I showed a video of my 7-month old nephew, Inigo, being turned-over in a forward roll by his teacher at Little Gym (Yes, 7-month old Inigo is already in school doing baby school stuff).   I showed a video of Inigo crawling eagerly to get a toy, of inigo drooling over a ball, of Inigo doing absolutely nothing but look curiously at the camera.  I was a proud aunty!  And then I understood why Wally beamed with pride and joy.

I recall these moments with a smile….because as proud as Wally and I were, I realized that must be exactly, may be even more, how our Father looks at us.  How loving and tender He must look at us as we come to Him in thanksgiving.  How He must look at us with compassionate and kindly eyes as we come to Him, humbly asking for favors.   How He must look at us with joyful eyes as we show our love and compassion for the unlovable and generosity for the needy.  How He must beam with pride at us…we are, after all, His children.

But children grow up.  And sometimes we grow to forget to give thanks.  Sometimes we grow to think we can rely on our own reasons and strengths.  Sometimes we grow to be indifferent and petulant and even unforgiving of those who have less.   Sometimes we forget our Father.  And it is at these moments when our Father looks at us with eyes of pain and heartache. 

 Many times I have caused that sad look in His eyes.  Many a times I have caused His heart to break.  But still, I feel His hand reach out in love as He blesses me in more ways than I deserve.  He loves me still… in spite of my sinfulness.  In fact, He sent His son FOR me.  

I long and will try my darndest to put that beam of pride and joy in my Father's eyes.  It IS going to be tough.  It IS going to be long.  It IS going to be a challenge.  It may take days....nay, years, maybe decades even. No matter if it takes me 7... or 70 years...the beam of joy in my Father's eyes will be well worth it.

Lost in translation

           The long respite from blogging the goings-on in my life as an OFW has,  hopefully, come to an end as I embark on a new journey… and I mean “journey” in the literal sense as the Training team relocated to its new base- CEBU CITY!

 

            Just when I was getting used to the life in Iloilo, a marching order for the whole team to transfer to Cebu was issued.  A new culture.  A new language.  A new home.  A new set of people to work with.   A whole new world!  I bet it’s easier for a Manileno to adjust in California than in Cebu…or maybe the problem’s just with me. 

 

 Everybody insists I should speak Cebuano.   The thing is, I have never had a penchant for languages.  Any language outside Tagalog or English simply is alien – mind you, not just foreign, but totally alien to me!  As I try to learn my way around Cebu City, I needed to learn the Cebuano version of “bayad” – its “pliti” And I swear, every single time I say “pliti” to pay my fare,  I hear in my head  the song from West Side Story that goes, “I feel so pliti, oh so pliti…”  

 

 When you’re in Cebu and you’re riding a jeepney, I’d advise you to practice puckering up or keep in hand a five peso coin.  Urban Dictionary defines “pucker up” as sticking out your lips in preparation for a kiss.    So why “pucker up” or keep in hand a five peso coin you ask? Well, one can do both or either of these things to signal the driver that you’re getting off:  1)  tap the hand rail three times with the coin or; 2) “pucker up” and make a loud “tsup, tsup” kissy sound.  No “para mama!”

 

            And, for the life of me, I always seem to be interchanging “dili” and “diri” (or is it spelled “dire”?).   So when I was ordering my snacks at a food stall in Shopwise and the cashier asked, “Makaon dire?”  A bubble thought appeared before me as I tried translating what she just said: was it “Dito mo kakainin (as in “for here”)?”   or “Hindi  mo kakainin? (as in “to go”)?   I simply stared right at her and nodded my head in agreement to whatever she just said.   I decided that if she wrapped my food “to go” style, I’d simply unwrap and eat it.

 

            I’ve totally decided to look for another room/apartment even if I have to pay double what I’m paying now.   I’m renting a teeny-weeny tiny room in an apartment that I’m supposed to share with another tenant.   I hate to complain but to say I’m out of my “comfort zone” is an understatement.   Aside from the fact that I share the toilet and bathroom with another tenant and “spiderman”, the only things I can do in my room are: stand, turn and look around, bend over my luggage to get my stuff  and lie down on my bed.   If I make any big moves, I’d bump into things (the bed, the side table, my luggage, etc).  Or maybe it’s just I have too much stuff -  I arrived in Iloilo with a big luggage filled with what I thought I was all I needed.  When I left Iloilo, I brought with me my big luggage, two balikbayan boxes and two smaller boxes… plus of course let’s not forget my foldable ever reliable comfy mattress.  

 

            I’ve been in Cebu City less than a week and so far: 

 

1)      I’m still so disoriented with the public transpo system I had to ask bespren Randy to pick me up and drop me off the apartment everyday.  Maybe in a year’s time I’ll get the hang of it

2)      I’ve been “chanced upon” – in Tagalog “na-chansingan” ako  when this guy rubbed his arm against mine as we were walking along the busy streets of  Fuente area.  I wonder though –  was he really trying to RUB against me? Or was he trying to ROB me of my watch? Hmmm….

3)      I’ve been cursed at….at least I think so.  I really wouldn’t know since whatever they were saying (rather, shouting) were alien to me.  I guess there’s some good in not really understanding an alien language hehe

 

            Hey! All these sound so familiar.  They’re so like Manila! Maybe I’ll feel right at home sooner than expected. 

            But there is one place I am so sure I am always welcome, one where I will never get lost in, one where I always feel at home in -  it's my home in the loving arms of my Father  and that is where I bask in when I feel alone and lost and questioning.   HE places me right where I should be and right now, lost though I may be, in translation and among crowd and in the busy streets of Cebu City, I trust…I believe…I know I am where He wants me to be.

oh boy!

I had a most enlightening conversation with a 17-year old boy.

I was in Cebu recently on official business. One of the meetings we had was with the Executive Director of the Center for Industrial Technology and Enterprises (CITE), the school we’re dealing with for our company’s Dual Training System project. CITE is a college/school for boys so it was really no surprise that the boys stared, albeit politely, at moi, the lone female at that time (as far as I could tell) in the school.

As the long meeting was winding down over freshly brewed coffee, I excused myself to go to the ladies’ room. Since it WAS a school for boys, finding a ladies’ room can be quite a challenge. I was told it was on the top floor and so up I went only to find myself lost among the labs and classrooms. I finally had to ask for directions from a group of boys who looked more like thirteen than seventeen. I was told the only ladies’ room was at the visitor’s lounge on the ground floor. I probably looked confused so one of them was kind enough to offer to walk with me.

On the way down, the boy sheepishly kept looking in my direction, as if trying to make up his mind whether to talk to me or not. He finally got the courage, squared his shoulders, cleared his throat and in a tiny, squeaky voice of an awkward boy, asked politely, “Dinadalaw nyo po anak nyo?”

With a smile still pasted on my lips, I told him I was there for a meeting. But my thoughts went, “Anak ka dyan! Anak ka ng…”

Yes, that truly was an enlightening conversation.