"Lord renew my mind, as your will unfolds in my life. In living everyday, by the power of Your love."
Today's the day.
It's time to retire the blog, Biyaheng Bakawan. The inspiration and decision came today, Sunday, a day after my one year, seventh monthsary in Thailand. It was a lovely church service, the Gospel was about love. Jesus is telling his disciples, "Remain in me, and I shall remain in you. Let your love be in me, so your joy may be complete." On top of that, the young Thai priest's homily included an impromptu rendition of The Beatles's "I Will". Of course, it was a Filipino choir that mass, so we had a mini-concert in between the Gospel and the Creed.
The serenity and serendipity of today's service, and the consolation I received about my state of mind, allowed me to say, "Ok, BB Chronicles, it's time to sail home." I know, and I feel, that my mangrove journey has reached its peak; it has arrived at its destination.
I won't stop chasing mangroves, nor will I stop writing or learning about them. It's just that 'Biyaheng Bakawan' carried so much baggage from my old journey that the vessel needs to retire. I won't scuttle this ship just yet, but I am anchoring it at the dock--for the meantime. It'll be there to be visited, to be looked back on, and to be reminisced about.
Mangroves have certainly been the centerpiece of my life journey until now. The mangrove quest brought me places I've never seen, allowed me to meet people I never thought I'd see, and enabled me to go beyond recognized limits. The greatest gift that the dream of chasing mangroves brought, is the joy that Christ promised: incarnate in my love and life-partner, husband Philippe. If not for this bakawan dream, I wouldn't have gone to New Zealand to study (I wouldn't have met him); I wouldn't have gone to Asia to work (he wouldn't have followed and proposed); and I wouldn't have dared to dream again (us charting a new life together). Ah yes, my life is like a propagule--the tides bring me to fertile ground and let me germinate in good soil.
So my BB followers, many thanks for following this journey. 25 posts is silver for me, and that is a good number. I'll let you know when the next journey begins. I stand at the edge of the mangrove forest, looking out into the sea. What's next you say? Find out with me. The adventure continues!
(This last blog entry is dedicated to my EnviScience batchmates, Ateneo BSES 2001: rachel, len, nin, joyce, rica, drey, and noe. My fellow travellers back at the Manila Observatory, back when we were young, and restless, and full of dreams. We still are, by the way, blazing our own trails, wherever we are...)
Sunday, May 13, 2012
Tuesday, May 8, 2012
The Sgt Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band syndrome
I logged on tonight with the sole purpose of shutting down Biyaheng Bakawan.
Yes, you read that right. I aimed to shut down this blog. Driven by desolation and misery because of events culminating in this crappy day, I said, "Enough!" No more writing about my mangrove journey; it's too painful to write about something I like, when one feels that the noble dream of journeying through Bakawans has been shat on and spat at by ogres who have nothing to do but erode the confidence of the young. So I resolved to stop writing before those ogres turn my ideals into dregs.
Yet, on the way to this blog, I chanced upon several hits on the word "morvenna". For faithful readers of the BB Chronicles, Morvenna is part of this blog's address, and also part of my name--kind of like, Gabriel Garcia Marquez, or Jorge Luis Borges, or Ursula K. Le Guin. I've always been proud of my name, this name Morvenna, in particular, because no one in my waking universe has the same unique nominal combination as mine. Growing up and until now, my name is my Identity.
Imagine my amusement when Google the omniscient yielded at least a hundred results for Morvenna, the top 3 of which include this blog, Morvenna.com [an online portfolio of a graphic arts freelance consultant from Leeds whose name is Morven Anne (how original can you get)]--and Morvenna the Mermaid! That won it. Not only is that last site about tattoos and witchcraft, it's about a mermaid that grants wishes! And apparently, it's a real tour package offered in Cornwall, in a place called Newquay. Aha. So my mer-namesake is not some made up queer character conjured up by our LGBT friends.
Morvenna the Mermaid, according to Cornish legend, is an enchanting sea-woman and has the ability to grant wishes. Great. So not only is my name associated with a queer sea enchantress, my name connotes an underwater genie as well. Eureka. Now I know how I beguiled my husband into marrying me.
So, after being amused and adequately distracted, I decided to keep this blog. I also decided that what I went through this evening is something akin to The Beatles' Sgt Peppers phase: a decision to change the name to see if the music will still be the same, and if there will still be a following. Hmmm. In my case, I wanted to shut down this blog because I didn't want to write anything anymore about mangroves while I am in this reality at the moment. Because I am desolate at the moment, I wanted to change the mood, the theme, and yes, even the title of this blog. I wanted to start anew.
And yet, here I am, still typing away. Maybe, maybe, I will eventually shut down this blog and start a fresh one (with some flashy title like: "I, Biyahera" or "The Misadventures of Mrs Jmae Thuaud"). All I know is, I think I want to retire Biyaheng Bakawan when I am neither desolate nor jubilant. Wait for it, dear readers. We'll see where the tide washes me ashore...
(On the occasion of the end of the 2nd World War in France, and the end of my personal war with local ogres who spit on noble dreams...)
Yes, you read that right. I aimed to shut down this blog. Driven by desolation and misery because of events culminating in this crappy day, I said, "Enough!" No more writing about my mangrove journey; it's too painful to write about something I like, when one feels that the noble dream of journeying through Bakawans has been shat on and spat at by ogres who have nothing to do but erode the confidence of the young. So I resolved to stop writing before those ogres turn my ideals into dregs.
Yet, on the way to this blog, I chanced upon several hits on the word "morvenna". For faithful readers of the BB Chronicles, Morvenna is part of this blog's address, and also part of my name--kind of like, Gabriel Garcia Marquez, or Jorge Luis Borges, or Ursula K. Le Guin. I've always been proud of my name, this name Morvenna, in particular, because no one in my waking universe has the same unique nominal combination as mine. Growing up and until now, my name is my Identity.
Imagine my amusement when Google the omniscient yielded at least a hundred results for Morvenna, the top 3 of which include this blog, Morvenna.com [an online portfolio of a graphic arts freelance consultant from Leeds whose name is Morven Anne (how original can you get)]--and Morvenna the Mermaid! That won it. Not only is that last site about tattoos and witchcraft, it's about a mermaid that grants wishes! And apparently, it's a real tour package offered in Cornwall, in a place called Newquay. Aha. So my mer-namesake is not some made up queer character conjured up by our LGBT friends.
Morvenna the Mermaid, according to Cornish legend, is an enchanting sea-woman and has the ability to grant wishes. Great. So not only is my name associated with a queer sea enchantress, my name connotes an underwater genie as well. Eureka. Now I know how I beguiled my husband into marrying me.
So, after being amused and adequately distracted, I decided to keep this blog. I also decided that what I went through this evening is something akin to The Beatles' Sgt Peppers phase: a decision to change the name to see if the music will still be the same, and if there will still be a following. Hmmm. In my case, I wanted to shut down this blog because I didn't want to write anything anymore about mangroves while I am in this reality at the moment. Because I am desolate at the moment, I wanted to change the mood, the theme, and yes, even the title of this blog. I wanted to start anew.
And yet, here I am, still typing away. Maybe, maybe, I will eventually shut down this blog and start a fresh one (with some flashy title like: "I, Biyahera" or "The Misadventures of Mrs Jmae Thuaud"). All I know is, I think I want to retire Biyaheng Bakawan when I am neither desolate nor jubilant. Wait for it, dear readers. We'll see where the tide washes me ashore...
(On the occasion of the end of the 2nd World War in France, and the end of my personal war with local ogres who spit on noble dreams...)
Tuesday, April 17, 2012
Understanding Environmental Education in Aotearoa New Zealand
I am so happy to share an article from the University of Waikato about environmental education in Aotearoa.
A good read, everyone.
Kia Ora, dear authors!
A good read, everyone.
Kia Ora, dear authors!
Understanding Student Learning in Environmental Education in Aotearoa New Zealand
Chris Eames and Miles Barker (2011)
Australian Journal of Environmental Education, , Volume 27, Issue 01 , January 2011 pp 186-191
http://journals.cambridge.org/abstract_S0814062600000173
Australian Journal of Environmental Education, , Volume 27, Issue 01 , January 2011 pp 186-191
http://journals.cambridge.org/abstract_S0814062600000173
Wednesday, March 28, 2012
Surprise, surprise
TODAY I received a United Colors of Benetton luggage in the mail. It is immaculately white, and light as a feather. Of course, the handles and the wheels are in the standard UCB green, yellow, red, and blue. Beholding it was the highlight of my day.
How it arrived was a complete mystery. A huge box was deposited at my office desk, while I stepped out to speak with one of my line managers. The huge box was stamped "From Standard Chartered Bank", and had my name on it. Wow, I never received anything from a bank before. At first glance, I thought it was an electric fan (groan! not another one), but then our HR officer came in and said, "Oh! You got a luggage too. The bank gives that to a lucky account holder." Nice; it pays to regularly manage one's finances.
So I was giddy the whole day for getting a mystery gift, and on top of that, I surprised myself that my work productivity was an at all time high. I completed the draft, outline, and content for our programme newsletter, and doing that I revisited my skills as a campus journalist, as an editor in chief, and as an undercover after-hours writer. Needless to say, today turned out to be a good day.
At 6pm, when I had my fill of the day's work, I turned to my mystery box to see what was inside. I was expecting to see a hideous black cloth luggage with clumsy wheels and the bank's insignia splattered on the front. Lo and behold, it was a solid hard case lightweight luggage--and a UCB one at that! Huhaaa.
Many thanks, Papa God, for giving me unexpected gifts at times when I need it most.
Pour Cheri. Tu me manques beaucoup.
How it arrived was a complete mystery. A huge box was deposited at my office desk, while I stepped out to speak with one of my line managers. The huge box was stamped "From Standard Chartered Bank", and had my name on it. Wow, I never received anything from a bank before. At first glance, I thought it was an electric fan (groan! not another one), but then our HR officer came in and said, "Oh! You got a luggage too. The bank gives that to a lucky account holder." Nice; it pays to regularly manage one's finances.
So I was giddy the whole day for getting a mystery gift, and on top of that, I surprised myself that my work productivity was an at all time high. I completed the draft, outline, and content for our programme newsletter, and doing that I revisited my skills as a campus journalist, as an editor in chief, and as an undercover after-hours writer. Needless to say, today turned out to be a good day.
At 6pm, when I had my fill of the day's work, I turned to my mystery box to see what was inside. I was expecting to see a hideous black cloth luggage with clumsy wheels and the bank's insignia splattered on the front. Lo and behold, it was a solid hard case lightweight luggage--and a UCB one at that! Huhaaa.
Many thanks, Papa God, for giving me unexpected gifts at times when I need it most.
Pour Cheri. Tu me manques beaucoup.
Tuesday, February 14, 2012
Getting there
I am living my master's thesis. Every day of my life in the organization I work with is a battle in discourse analysis.
It's true what thesis advisers say: "Your thesis defines you." And why not? A thesis is one person's story, told from her perspective, from her point of view. It is the centerpiece of her one-act play, the key note of her life-speech. Aye, had I known, I should have chosen fashion and cosmetology as mine.
I've had mangroves as the centerpiece of both my BSc and MSocSci theses. And both times, I've never regretted the choices I made. I've always been the happy mangrove storyteller. Yet, I recognize how difficult it is to tell my story when there are others whose sole joy is to dispute the stories they hear. They keep saying mine is too happy. Ah, now I know how Cicero or Borges must have felt.
Anyway, my story is unfolding as I speak. I said it once and I say it again: different agenda influence and form the interaction of different groups, especially towards mangroves and their management. I see that too well now, and the next thing I need to do is begin a new chapter, and work my story around the various plots that unfold.
Happy Valentines Day.
It's true what thesis advisers say: "Your thesis defines you." And why not? A thesis is one person's story, told from her perspective, from her point of view. It is the centerpiece of her one-act play, the key note of her life-speech. Aye, had I known, I should have chosen fashion and cosmetology as mine.
I've had mangroves as the centerpiece of both my BSc and MSocSci theses. And both times, I've never regretted the choices I made. I've always been the happy mangrove storyteller. Yet, I recognize how difficult it is to tell my story when there are others whose sole joy is to dispute the stories they hear. They keep saying mine is too happy. Ah, now I know how Cicero or Borges must have felt.
Anyway, my story is unfolding as I speak. I said it once and I say it again: different agenda influence and form the interaction of different groups, especially towards mangroves and their management. I see that too well now, and the next thing I need to do is begin a new chapter, and work my story around the various plots that unfold.
Happy Valentines Day.
Friday, January 13, 2012
In Memoriam: Fernando P. Hofileña, M.D. (December 26, 1919 – January 10, 2012)
In my Freshman year at the Ateneo, Doc Hof was one of the most memorable TnT (Talks and Tours) stops during Orsem `97. He spoke about war heroes, martyrs, and Ateneo greats who were immortalized in the memorial plaque erected on Sacred Heart Hill. I became a TnT soon after that, and Doc Hof was still a favorite stop while showing new Ateneo freshmen around campus. The Church of the Gesu was constructed on the Hill in the mid-2000s, so I'm not sure if Orsems after 2000 still included the stop with a spiel from Doc Hof. Years later, in 2009, when I visited the Ateneo in between doing my master's thesis in New Zealand, I saw Doc Hof walking along Kostka hall, looking at the bulletin boards of the OAA (Office of Admission and Aid). I had to stop and say hi. "Dr. Hofileña, I am Jana Esteban, BSES 2001, and I will always remember you for that wonderful Orsem talk you gave on the Sacred Heart Hill." And Doc Hof, who endearingly smiled, said, "What a pleasant surprise! I'm just glad to know someone listened to this old man's stories!" And we spent the next 10 minutes along the Kostka corridor reminiscing of Ateneo's days in the past. I told him when I was a freshman, we were known to be part of the 'College of Arts and Sciences', but when I graduated, we were suddenty 'Loyola Schools, School of Science and Engineering'. Doc Hof said something close to "Ah yes, things change, but normally for the better, don't you agree?"
After a few more pleasantries, we thanked each other for our time, and Doc Hof's parting words were really endearing: "Thank you for sharing your time with hoi-polois like me." And he shuffled away towards Edsa walk while I continued Kostka extension to head for the Rizal Library.
Doc Hof, thank you for sharing your time with a hoi-poloi like me. Ad Majorem Dei Gloriam!
Fernando P. Hofileña, M.D. (December 26, 1919 – January 10, 2012)
Fernando “Doc” or "Nanding" Hofileña, M.D., Ateneo alumnus HS '37, AA Pre-Med '39, academician, administrator, pediatrician, child psychologist, writer and Lux-in-Domino awardee, passed away on Tuesday, 10 January 2012, at the age of 92.
His remains are at the Rolling Hills Memorial Chapel, 27 Lacson St., Bacolod City, until 16 January 2012, Monday. Interment will be on 16 January after a 9:00 AM Mass at the Rolling Hills Memorial Park Chapel.
Students who have entered the hallow halls of the Ateneo leave with a seed planted in their hearts that contains the possibility of service, generosity and greatness, all for the greater glory of God. St. lgnatius of Loyola recognized that for the seeds to grow into a generous heart, they must be nurtured by God's grace. There are those who have answered the call to serve so completely that their spirits become pillars of light that shine upon the rest of humanity and make us know that God truly is present in our lives. Today, we honor such a man - a man who has embraced service again and again with courage and trust in God's love. This man is Dr. Fernando P. Hofileña.
Dr. Hofileña was born in Bacolod City on December 26, 1919 to Atty. Roque Hofileña and Angeles Puentevella. He was an exemplary student at the Ateneo de Manila, finishing High School in 1937 with First Honors and graduating from his Associate in Arts - Pre Med, summa cum laude in 1939. He pursued his medical degree at the College of Medicine of the University of Sto. Tomas. His studies were interrupted in his third year of medical school when the war broke out in 1941. He set aside his stethoscope and books to fill his politician father's shoes and became acting mayor of Free Silay when his father was incapacitated by a venomous insect bite. He was only 22 years old. When the war was over he finished medical school and in 1952 was given a Fulbright grant to specialize in Pediatrics and Child Psychiatry in New York, Philadelphia and Pittsburgh.
Upon his return he shared his expertise in a multitude of ways. Besides opening a private practice, he taught mental hygiene in infants and children in the graduate schools of the Ateneo, UST and La Salle. He also began a child guidance clinic in the outpatient department of the UST hospital. He gladly accepted the offer of the Principal of La Salle Grade School, to begin a consultancy in Child Development in the La Salle Grade School. He wrote the chapter on child psychiatry in the textbook of Pediatrics by Fe del Mundo and wrote a column, "A Page for the Young at Heart" in the Manila Bulletin. ln the 1980s he shared his knowledge and recounted his experiences in his practice in schools, and in various symposia and seminars in and outside Metro Manila through his own weekly column "Child Care" in the Times Journal. At this time he was also a lecturer at Miriam College.
One of his most significant accomplishments is his contribution to the field of special education in the Philippines. Fresh from his studies abroad, he chose to serve as pediatrician and clinic head of the special child study center, the first school for special children in the Philippines. Ten years later, the Center developed into the St. Joseph of Cupertino School for Retarded Children, the initial project of the country's first Foundation for Retarded Children. lt is now known as the Cupertino Center for Special Children.
Dr. Hofileña's accounts of the Cupertino School emphasized the generous spirit of his fellow pioneers and the interactions between Cupertinians and Ateneans in arts and crafts. His writings brought attention to the inspired partnership between faculty members and students as they began programs such as music therapy, theatre therapy and therapeutic sports. He also defined a modern concept of volunteerism, set down a profile of the Filipino down syndrome, and developed the first curriculum for trainable retardates, providing researchers, doctors and the general public a window into the world of special education.
Dr. Hofileña also explored his artistic self. He also took an interest in the cultural growth of medical and nursing students. With the intention of enriching their educational experiences, he wrote and directed four full-length plays about the lives of nurses and doctors. These plays are Vignettes from the Medical World, The Best Words, Curse or Blessing, and Carry the White Lamp.
His delight in performing in plays and operettas as a child in Silay grew into a passion for dramatics and oratory as a student of Ateneo and UST and motivated him to be involved with the publications of the Ateneo Children's Theatre, Dulaang Sibol and Tanghalang Ateneo. His love affair with the Ateneo Glee Club began in the 1950s when he lent his tenor voice to their ensemble. ln 1978, he accepted their invitation to become their moderator. His presence and support moved the Ateneo Chamber Singers, a choir formed by alumni members of the Ateneo Glee Club, to ask him to be their moderator as well. His love for the arts, commitment to excellence, and faith in the Lord have inspired the members of these groups to be generous themselves.
His artistic spirit constantly finds new ways of expressing itself as when, at the turn of the millennium, he rediscovered his poet's pen when he saw the exhibit of paintings by a former patient of his, Joven lgnacio.
Dr. Hofileña took on another role that chronicled the spirit of Atenean service. As part of the Atenean Heroes Memorial Committee, he brought honor not only to Ateneo war heroes but also brought to light those Ateneans whose individual acts of courage are not officially recognized by the nation. ln his 9th year as Chairman of the committee, he had 127 Ateneans recognized for their valor and enshrined in the memorial launched by Fr. Pacifico Ortiz, SJ in 1969. He was finally given due recognition in 2005 at a pre-lndependence Day program hosted by the Ateneo called Sa Piling ng Mga Bayani (Heroes in our Midst) for his courageous leadership and embodiment of lgnatian ideals in World War ll. When he heard that Japanese forces occupied Negros, he returned to his hometown to join his parents and twelve siblings in the resistance movement.
Now in his twilight years, he is still a Eucharistic Minister at the Sta. Maria della Strada parish and continues to find new ways to serve others and continue Cod's work. He is the founder of the Lector's Guild at the della Strada parish and has volunteered to train the lectors of the Our Lady of Pentecost parish.
Dr. Hofileña wrote that although he left Ateneo after graduation, Ateneo never left him. lndeed, the Ateneo is fortunate that no matter what path he takes, he always makes his way back to her halls and classrooms. Many Ateneans recognize him as the dignified elderly gentleman whom they see walking around the campus and up and down Katipunan. lf that is all they will ever know about Dr. Hofileña, it is enough. For his very presence is enough testimony to his ideals.
To quote Dr. Hofileña himself, “Nothing is better now than expressing in all sincerity our gratitude, which is never sufficient."
For his inspired leadership and immense contribution to the fields of Pediatrics, Child Psychiatry and Special Education in the Philippines; for his pioneering spirit in creating medical, educational and spiritual programs and institutions; for his dedication to holistic education by inspiring his students to employ all their talents for the greater glory of God; for shining his light on the acts of heroism and contribution of his fellowman; for constantly answering the call to serve with a resounding 'yes'; and for embodying the lgnatian spirit of ‘magis’ in the twenty-first century, the Ateneo de Manila University proudly confers on her son, Dr. Fernando P. Hofileña its Lux-in-Domino Award.
The title of the Award is taken from the motto of the Ateneo which appears both in the old and new seals. Taken from St. Paul (Ephesians 5:8), the phrase Lux-in-Domino, "light in the Lord", traces an ideal and sketches a way of life which the Ateneo holds up to her sons and daughters as their path of Christian discipleship. These words illuminate the purposes and aims of the University which point that the Ateneo is FILIPINO, CATHOLIC, and JESUIT:
FILIPINO, in that she seeks service to the nation and the objectives of genuine national development.
CATHOLIC, in that her fundamental charter is the Gospel of Jesus and the beatitudes; that her guidelines are those of the teaching of the Catholic Church. In the contemporary perspective, those guidelines focus on service to the Faith which today includes the Promotion of Justice as a constitutive dimension of the task of evangelization.
JESUIT, in that she seeks to live the Filipino and Catholic marks in the spirit of the magis (the "ever more"): to seek the ever more generous, the ever more "totally given" service; nothing held back, in the spirit of the Ignatian prayer,
to give and not to count the cost,
to fight and not to seek for rest,
to labour and ask for no reward . . .
To be "light in the Lord", in all fullness may demand a following of Christ even to the offering of one's life.
I am in my twilight years but on this occasion I can see the sunrise.
The honor I am receiving today is so great that if I were much younger, I would feel a surge of joy and pride, and I would be euphoric for a long time, but as I’m an Octogenarian I can only say soberly that I feel a mix of contentment, fulfillment and gratitude.
Recalling the title of the Homecoming concert of the Ateneo College Glee Club, the harbinger of the Ateneo Chamber Singers, after the group won a string of 1st Prizes, including the Grand Prix in the European competition in 2001, I now pray to the creator “Non Nobis Domine” – meaning: Not to us, Lord, but to Your name, give the glory. I cannot claim the honor they’re giving, it’s Yours.
I cannot thank You enough, Lord for having gifted me with the talents and other qualities that enabled me to become an Atenean with a passion for excellence in academics and the arts, an ideal stated in The Ratio studiorum as Sapientia, Eloquentia et humanitas.
I am also grateful to my alma mater for the holistic education and the effort to inflame my heart with The Ateneo spirit. We old alumni have always carried this spirit in our private lives. It has morphed into what some of us call “spirit of dedication to a cause”. Not a few have sacrificed their lives for it. I believe this can explain why we tell people that though we have left the Ateneo, the Ateneo has never left us.
It is this spirit intertwined with love of God, devotion to Mother Mary, obedience to St. Ignatius, love of country and fellowman instilled in us by our Jesuit mentors that can explain why 34 Ateneo ROTC cadets defied the order to disband all cadets in the country early in the Pacific War and volunteered to fight in Bataan; and why my brother Cris, also an Atenean, and I led our family in escaping from the Japanese at high noon and trudged for hours until we reached the mountains of Negros and joined the Resistance Movement. It was there that I had to carry out the duties of the Mayor of Silay because my father was incapacitated by the bite of a venomous insect.
Unknown to many is the fact that my desire to serve the Ateneo community has been strengthened by the beauty of nature, the God-given beauty I’ve always loved, the beauty that has made the Ateneo campus in Loyola Heights a paradise, a home away from home.
I will always treasure the awards I receive from my alma mater: summa cum laude in 1939; Irwin award from the Ateneo Children’s Theater two decades ago; and now the Lux-in-Domino, the greatest of all.
“What is a hero without love for mankind.” – Doris Lessing, 2007 Nobel Prize for Literature
We celebrate the sacrifice of many overseas Filipino workers who risk spousal estrangement and dysfunctional family dynamics in order to provide for their struggling families. We are particularly drawn to these ordinary women and men who do extraordinary feats in the name of love. What profoundly humbles me is when I meet extraordinary individuals who choose to divest themselves of recognition and become true servants to minister in such invisible yet incarnate ways. Their acts of heroism are hardly ever noticed by the ordinariness of duty and routine that cloak these acts. We who glimpse these kindnesses are touched and transformed.
When I assumed the mantle of leadership of the Ateneo College Glee Club in June 1979, I was immediately introduced to Dr. Fernando Hofileña, the choir’s moderator. We struck up a good conversation. He knew I had just begun a second college degree at UP after a self-interrupted career as a mathematics instructor at the Ateneo. He knew I spent some years in Bacolod which became second home to my family. As people in Negros Occidental are wont to do, he would ask if I knew a Gamboa, a Jalandoni, a Lacson, as Ledesma, a Lopez, or a Montelibano. Being a transplanted Manileño who really had no pedigree, I could only answer that I knew some of them but was not related to any of them. I was nonetheless treated like Ilonggo royalty with his usual charm, kind grace, and elegant demeanor. I’ve always been fascinated with this penchant for genealogies and associations as hyper-typical of our intricate social networking which saves the day for Filipinos when our politics and social services fail. Doc, as we in the glee club fondly called him, was a happy reminder that our connectedness was our salvation as a people.
Doc was always the hero to the glee club batches that I directed. Home after a day’s work at Cupertino, he would often walk to the Loyola Heights campus to hear us rehearse. He was always ready with his encouragement, his gracious smile, and steady prayer. My first years with the glee club were rather tumultuous, given the combination of strong personalities within the choir, my authoritarian demeanor then, the relentless drive to chart musical history, and the existential desire to make meaning out of the meaninglessness that was martial law. He would say the glee club was his therapy. In my view, his presence gave thera-peutic balance and ease to an otherwise tense rehearsal. His selfless love for the choir was a counterweight to our selfish ambitions. His undiminished loyalty to our music making anchored our belief in ourselves and in our missioin of excellence in music and faith.
Always generous with his praise and encouragement, Doc was a dependable friend and guide, I would often be incredulous at his gracious speeches to the choir after what I thought was a concert of disastrous renditions. He often saw the big picture while I sweated and nitpicked on the minutiae. Surely the devil was in the details, but Doc saw the angel in the broader brushstrokes.
During my years with the glee club, I had many days of unuttered self-doubt and self-loathing, often wondering if I was the right person for the job. He could hear those thoughts clearly. Surely my knitted brow and vacant gaze gave them away. Yet, he never mentioned a word of criticism. As a listener, he completely trusted that things would be resolved by an Unseen Hand, certain that people like me who ranted about our misfortunes would eventually find our way back.
Doc was also hero to many. He gave selflessly in his work with children who had learning challenges, and in his work with patients who had psychological disorders. He loved the Ateneo basketball teams and often watched them practice at the Loyola gym. He gave his support to the choir at Barangka, the plays of Dulaang Sibol, and just about everything Atenean.
When he became the recipient of Ateneo’s Lux-in-Domino Award in 2008, many of us in the glee club were in awe to learn for the first time about his stellar accomplishments as a student, artist, academician, administrator, pediatrician, child psychologist, writer, and lay worker. He never spoke about them. He was, by all accounts, an exceptional human being who chose a life of service so that others may learn the goodness of God. Doc embodied the spirit of giving beyond measure simply because he loved unconditionally.
Conductors can be overrated, this one included. We try to lead by example only because we have examples whose footsteps we merely follow. Dr. Fernando Hofileña was one such exemplar. We are who we are only because of the people who shape us – students, colleagues, associates, administrators, parents, and family members who mirror our frail humanity but who remind us of our godly inheritance and heavenly citizenship.
Dr. Fernando Hofileña’s moderating influence, loyal love, and generosity of spirit will always be remembered as selfless acts of heroism to many he served. He will be ninety years old on December 26, 2009. More than a third of his life has been spent in a love affair with the glee club. Many of us have walked behind this hero’s footsteps and have become better children of the Light. May this honor crown his ninetieth year with a hero’s laurels and a trumpet sound of praise from a grateful chorus who are learning to serve others just as he has served us in fullest measure.
After a few more pleasantries, we thanked each other for our time, and Doc Hof's parting words were really endearing: "Thank you for sharing your time with hoi-polois like me." And he shuffled away towards Edsa walk while I continued Kostka extension to head for the Rizal Library.
Doc Hof, thank you for sharing your time with a hoi-poloi like me. Ad Majorem Dei Gloriam!
Fernando P. Hofileña, M.D. (December 26, 1919 – January 10, 2012)
Fernando “Doc” or "Nanding" Hofileña, M.D., Ateneo alumnus HS '37, AA Pre-Med '39, academician, administrator, pediatrician, child psychologist, writer and Lux-in-Domino awardee, passed away on Tuesday, 10 January 2012, at the age of 92.
His remains are at the Rolling Hills Memorial Chapel, 27 Lacson St., Bacolod City, until 16 January 2012, Monday. Interment will be on 16 January after a 9:00 AM Mass at the Rolling Hills Memorial Park Chapel.
FERNANDO P. HOFILEÑA, M.D.
Lux-in-Domino Awardee
15 July 2008
Henry Lee Irwin Theatre, Ateneo de Manila University
Lux-in-Domino Awardee
15 July 2008
Henry Lee Irwin Theatre, Ateneo de Manila University
Students who have entered the hallow halls of the Ateneo leave with a seed planted in their hearts that contains the possibility of service, generosity and greatness, all for the greater glory of God. St. lgnatius of Loyola recognized that for the seeds to grow into a generous heart, they must be nurtured by God's grace. There are those who have answered the call to serve so completely that their spirits become pillars of light that shine upon the rest of humanity and make us know that God truly is present in our lives. Today, we honor such a man - a man who has embraced service again and again with courage and trust in God's love. This man is Dr. Fernando P. Hofileña.
Dr. Hofileña was born in Bacolod City on December 26, 1919 to Atty. Roque Hofileña and Angeles Puentevella. He was an exemplary student at the Ateneo de Manila, finishing High School in 1937 with First Honors and graduating from his Associate in Arts - Pre Med, summa cum laude in 1939. He pursued his medical degree at the College of Medicine of the University of Sto. Tomas. His studies were interrupted in his third year of medical school when the war broke out in 1941. He set aside his stethoscope and books to fill his politician father's shoes and became acting mayor of Free Silay when his father was incapacitated by a venomous insect bite. He was only 22 years old. When the war was over he finished medical school and in 1952 was given a Fulbright grant to specialize in Pediatrics and Child Psychiatry in New York, Philadelphia and Pittsburgh.
Upon his return he shared his expertise in a multitude of ways. Besides opening a private practice, he taught mental hygiene in infants and children in the graduate schools of the Ateneo, UST and La Salle. He also began a child guidance clinic in the outpatient department of the UST hospital. He gladly accepted the offer of the Principal of La Salle Grade School, to begin a consultancy in Child Development in the La Salle Grade School. He wrote the chapter on child psychiatry in the textbook of Pediatrics by Fe del Mundo and wrote a column, "A Page for the Young at Heart" in the Manila Bulletin. ln the 1980s he shared his knowledge and recounted his experiences in his practice in schools, and in various symposia and seminars in and outside Metro Manila through his own weekly column "Child Care" in the Times Journal. At this time he was also a lecturer at Miriam College.
One of his most significant accomplishments is his contribution to the field of special education in the Philippines. Fresh from his studies abroad, he chose to serve as pediatrician and clinic head of the special child study center, the first school for special children in the Philippines. Ten years later, the Center developed into the St. Joseph of Cupertino School for Retarded Children, the initial project of the country's first Foundation for Retarded Children. lt is now known as the Cupertino Center for Special Children.
Dr. Hofileña's accounts of the Cupertino School emphasized the generous spirit of his fellow pioneers and the interactions between Cupertinians and Ateneans in arts and crafts. His writings brought attention to the inspired partnership between faculty members and students as they began programs such as music therapy, theatre therapy and therapeutic sports. He also defined a modern concept of volunteerism, set down a profile of the Filipino down syndrome, and developed the first curriculum for trainable retardates, providing researchers, doctors and the general public a window into the world of special education.
Dr. Hofileña also explored his artistic self. He also took an interest in the cultural growth of medical and nursing students. With the intention of enriching their educational experiences, he wrote and directed four full-length plays about the lives of nurses and doctors. These plays are Vignettes from the Medical World, The Best Words, Curse or Blessing, and Carry the White Lamp.
His delight in performing in plays and operettas as a child in Silay grew into a passion for dramatics and oratory as a student of Ateneo and UST and motivated him to be involved with the publications of the Ateneo Children's Theatre, Dulaang Sibol and Tanghalang Ateneo. His love affair with the Ateneo Glee Club began in the 1950s when he lent his tenor voice to their ensemble. ln 1978, he accepted their invitation to become their moderator. His presence and support moved the Ateneo Chamber Singers, a choir formed by alumni members of the Ateneo Glee Club, to ask him to be their moderator as well. His love for the arts, commitment to excellence, and faith in the Lord have inspired the members of these groups to be generous themselves.
His artistic spirit constantly finds new ways of expressing itself as when, at the turn of the millennium, he rediscovered his poet's pen when he saw the exhibit of paintings by a former patient of his, Joven lgnacio.
Dr. Hofileña took on another role that chronicled the spirit of Atenean service. As part of the Atenean Heroes Memorial Committee, he brought honor not only to Ateneo war heroes but also brought to light those Ateneans whose individual acts of courage are not officially recognized by the nation. ln his 9th year as Chairman of the committee, he had 127 Ateneans recognized for their valor and enshrined in the memorial launched by Fr. Pacifico Ortiz, SJ in 1969. He was finally given due recognition in 2005 at a pre-lndependence Day program hosted by the Ateneo called Sa Piling ng Mga Bayani (Heroes in our Midst) for his courageous leadership and embodiment of lgnatian ideals in World War ll. When he heard that Japanese forces occupied Negros, he returned to his hometown to join his parents and twelve siblings in the resistance movement.
Now in his twilight years, he is still a Eucharistic Minister at the Sta. Maria della Strada parish and continues to find new ways to serve others and continue Cod's work. He is the founder of the Lector's Guild at the della Strada parish and has volunteered to train the lectors of the Our Lady of Pentecost parish.
Dr. Hofileña wrote that although he left Ateneo after graduation, Ateneo never left him. lndeed, the Ateneo is fortunate that no matter what path he takes, he always makes his way back to her halls and classrooms. Many Ateneans recognize him as the dignified elderly gentleman whom they see walking around the campus and up and down Katipunan. lf that is all they will ever know about Dr. Hofileña, it is enough. For his very presence is enough testimony to his ideals.
To quote Dr. Hofileña himself, “Nothing is better now than expressing in all sincerity our gratitude, which is never sufficient."
For his inspired leadership and immense contribution to the fields of Pediatrics, Child Psychiatry and Special Education in the Philippines; for his pioneering spirit in creating medical, educational and spiritual programs and institutions; for his dedication to holistic education by inspiring his students to employ all their talents for the greater glory of God; for shining his light on the acts of heroism and contribution of his fellowman; for constantly answering the call to serve with a resounding 'yes'; and for embodying the lgnatian spirit of ‘magis’ in the twenty-first century, the Ateneo de Manila University proudly confers on her son, Dr. Fernando P. Hofileña its Lux-in-Domino Award.
Lux-in-Domino Award
The Lux-in-Domino Award is a special recognition of an extraordinary individual who has incarnated in life, and perhaps even in death, in an exemplary manner, the noblest ideals of the Ateneo de Manila University. Recipients of the award are chosen exclusively from the ranks of alumni or alumnae of the Ateneo de Manila University. The title of the Award is taken from the motto of the Ateneo which appears both in the old and new seals. Taken from St. Paul (Ephesians 5:8), the phrase Lux-in-Domino, "light in the Lord", traces an ideal and sketches a way of life which the Ateneo holds up to her sons and daughters as their path of Christian discipleship. These words illuminate the purposes and aims of the University which point that the Ateneo is FILIPINO, CATHOLIC, and JESUIT:
FILIPINO, in that she seeks service to the nation and the objectives of genuine national development.
CATHOLIC, in that her fundamental charter is the Gospel of Jesus and the beatitudes; that her guidelines are those of the teaching of the Catholic Church. In the contemporary perspective, those guidelines focus on service to the Faith which today includes the Promotion of Justice as a constitutive dimension of the task of evangelization.
JESUIT, in that she seeks to live the Filipino and Catholic marks in the spirit of the magis (the "ever more"): to seek the ever more generous, the ever more "totally given" service; nothing held back, in the spirit of the Ignatian prayer,
to give and not to count the cost,
to fight and not to seek for rest,
to labour and ask for no reward . . .
To be "light in the Lord", in all fullness may demand a following of Christ even to the offering of one's life.
RESPONSE OF DR. FERNANDO P. HOFILEÑA
LUX-IN-DOMINO AWARD CITATION
Thank you, Fr. Nebres, members of the Board of Trustees and Mr. Capistrano. LUX-IN-DOMINO AWARD CITATION
I am in my twilight years but on this occasion I can see the sunrise.
The honor I am receiving today is so great that if I were much younger, I would feel a surge of joy and pride, and I would be euphoric for a long time, but as I’m an Octogenarian I can only say soberly that I feel a mix of contentment, fulfillment and gratitude.
Recalling the title of the Homecoming concert of the Ateneo College Glee Club, the harbinger of the Ateneo Chamber Singers, after the group won a string of 1st Prizes, including the Grand Prix in the European competition in 2001, I now pray to the creator “Non Nobis Domine” – meaning: Not to us, Lord, but to Your name, give the glory. I cannot claim the honor they’re giving, it’s Yours.
I cannot thank You enough, Lord for having gifted me with the talents and other qualities that enabled me to become an Atenean with a passion for excellence in academics and the arts, an ideal stated in The Ratio studiorum as Sapientia, Eloquentia et humanitas.
I am also grateful to my alma mater for the holistic education and the effort to inflame my heart with The Ateneo spirit. We old alumni have always carried this spirit in our private lives. It has morphed into what some of us call “spirit of dedication to a cause”. Not a few have sacrificed their lives for it. I believe this can explain why we tell people that though we have left the Ateneo, the Ateneo has never left us.
It is this spirit intertwined with love of God, devotion to Mother Mary, obedience to St. Ignatius, love of country and fellowman instilled in us by our Jesuit mentors that can explain why 34 Ateneo ROTC cadets defied the order to disband all cadets in the country early in the Pacific War and volunteered to fight in Bataan; and why my brother Cris, also an Atenean, and I led our family in escaping from the Japanese at high noon and trudged for hours until we reached the mountains of Negros and joined the Resistance Movement. It was there that I had to carry out the duties of the Mayor of Silay because my father was incapacitated by the bite of a venomous insect.
Unknown to many is the fact that my desire to serve the Ateneo community has been strengthened by the beauty of nature, the God-given beauty I’ve always loved, the beauty that has made the Ateneo campus in Loyola Heights a paradise, a home away from home.
I will always treasure the awards I receive from my alma mater: summa cum laude in 1939; Irwin award from the Ateneo Children’s Theater two decades ago; and now the Lux-in-Domino, the greatest of all.
* * *
FERNANDO P. HOFILEÑA, M.D.
Ateneo de Manila HS ’37, AA ’39
Ateneo de Manila HS ’37, AA ’39
Walking in the Hero’s Footsteps
By Joel Navarro
By Joel Navarro
From the book “To Give and Not to Count the Cost”
“What is a hero without love for mankind.” – Doris Lessing, 2007 Nobel Prize for Literature
We celebrate the sacrifice of many overseas Filipino workers who risk spousal estrangement and dysfunctional family dynamics in order to provide for their struggling families. We are particularly drawn to these ordinary women and men who do extraordinary feats in the name of love. What profoundly humbles me is when I meet extraordinary individuals who choose to divest themselves of recognition and become true servants to minister in such invisible yet incarnate ways. Their acts of heroism are hardly ever noticed by the ordinariness of duty and routine that cloak these acts. We who glimpse these kindnesses are touched and transformed.
When I assumed the mantle of leadership of the Ateneo College Glee Club in June 1979, I was immediately introduced to Dr. Fernando Hofileña, the choir’s moderator. We struck up a good conversation. He knew I had just begun a second college degree at UP after a self-interrupted career as a mathematics instructor at the Ateneo. He knew I spent some years in Bacolod which became second home to my family. As people in Negros Occidental are wont to do, he would ask if I knew a Gamboa, a Jalandoni, a Lacson, as Ledesma, a Lopez, or a Montelibano. Being a transplanted Manileño who really had no pedigree, I could only answer that I knew some of them but was not related to any of them. I was nonetheless treated like Ilonggo royalty with his usual charm, kind grace, and elegant demeanor. I’ve always been fascinated with this penchant for genealogies and associations as hyper-typical of our intricate social networking which saves the day for Filipinos when our politics and social services fail. Doc, as we in the glee club fondly called him, was a happy reminder that our connectedness was our salvation as a people.
Doc was always the hero to the glee club batches that I directed. Home after a day’s work at Cupertino, he would often walk to the Loyola Heights campus to hear us rehearse. He was always ready with his encouragement, his gracious smile, and steady prayer. My first years with the glee club were rather tumultuous, given the combination of strong personalities within the choir, my authoritarian demeanor then, the relentless drive to chart musical history, and the existential desire to make meaning out of the meaninglessness that was martial law. He would say the glee club was his therapy. In my view, his presence gave thera-peutic balance and ease to an otherwise tense rehearsal. His selfless love for the choir was a counterweight to our selfish ambitions. His undiminished loyalty to our music making anchored our belief in ourselves and in our missioin of excellence in music and faith.
Always generous with his praise and encouragement, Doc was a dependable friend and guide, I would often be incredulous at his gracious speeches to the choir after what I thought was a concert of disastrous renditions. He often saw the big picture while I sweated and nitpicked on the minutiae. Surely the devil was in the details, but Doc saw the angel in the broader brushstrokes.
During my years with the glee club, I had many days of unuttered self-doubt and self-loathing, often wondering if I was the right person for the job. He could hear those thoughts clearly. Surely my knitted brow and vacant gaze gave them away. Yet, he never mentioned a word of criticism. As a listener, he completely trusted that things would be resolved by an Unseen Hand, certain that people like me who ranted about our misfortunes would eventually find our way back.
Doc was also hero to many. He gave selflessly in his work with children who had learning challenges, and in his work with patients who had psychological disorders. He loved the Ateneo basketball teams and often watched them practice at the Loyola gym. He gave his support to the choir at Barangka, the plays of Dulaang Sibol, and just about everything Atenean.
When he became the recipient of Ateneo’s Lux-in-Domino Award in 2008, many of us in the glee club were in awe to learn for the first time about his stellar accomplishments as a student, artist, academician, administrator, pediatrician, child psychologist, writer, and lay worker. He never spoke about them. He was, by all accounts, an exceptional human being who chose a life of service so that others may learn the goodness of God. Doc embodied the spirit of giving beyond measure simply because he loved unconditionally.
Conductors can be overrated, this one included. We try to lead by example only because we have examples whose footsteps we merely follow. Dr. Fernando Hofileña was one such exemplar. We are who we are only because of the people who shape us – students, colleagues, associates, administrators, parents, and family members who mirror our frail humanity but who remind us of our godly inheritance and heavenly citizenship.
Dr. Fernando Hofileña’s moderating influence, loyal love, and generosity of spirit will always be remembered as selfless acts of heroism to many he served. He will be ninety years old on December 26, 2009. More than a third of his life has been spent in a love affair with the glee club. Many of us have walked behind this hero’s footsteps and have become better children of the Light. May this honor crown his ninetieth year with a hero’s laurels and a trumpet sound of praise from a grateful chorus who are learning to serve others just as he has served us in fullest measure.
Tuesday, November 22, 2011
Season 2, Episode 1
Celebrating one year ago today, when I started my Biyaheng Bakawan blog.
Godspeed, one and all.
Let's get ready for the new ride!!!
Godspeed, one and all.
Let's get ready for the new ride!!!
Wednesday, October 12, 2011
Reboot
In the last few minutes of my birthday, I want to say this: It's always a joy to find renewed hope and strength when one is in the lowest of dumps.
Thirty one.
What a whirlwind year it's been. I just kissed thirty goodbye one night ago, and now, I'm embracing the first of my fourth decade. I'm staring adulthood in the face. How nerve-wracking. Yet what I like about this is not having seen this side of myself before, and all things considered, it's not too bad. Thirty-one is not a scary other side of the coin; it's not greyness and decrepitude. It's actually...the same, only better.
Today I have witnessed my system crash, and shut down. And that's not a bad thing. I think I needed to crash and burn on my 30th year. It was the only way I could turn my inner switch back on.
It's time to Reboot.
Thirty one.
What a whirlwind year it's been. I just kissed thirty goodbye one night ago, and now, I'm embracing the first of my fourth decade. I'm staring adulthood in the face. How nerve-wracking. Yet what I like about this is not having seen this side of myself before, and all things considered, it's not too bad. Thirty-one is not a scary other side of the coin; it's not greyness and decrepitude. It's actually...the same, only better.
Today I have witnessed my system crash, and shut down. And that's not a bad thing. I think I needed to crash and burn on my 30th year. It was the only way I could turn my inner switch back on.
It's time to Reboot.
Monday, September 19, 2011
The People in my Neigborhood
It's amazing who you meet in the corridors.
Today we met Walter, the Belgian French-speaking pianist who lives one floor below, and he was a great talker. Philippe just chatted him up en Francaise, so they conversed in French, naturellement. I joined the elevator, so being polite, chirped 'Bon soire'. Walter was pleased, Elle parle francaise? To which my beloved said, in perfect English, "Just a bit". Ah, bon, said our new friend.
We live in a 9-storey condominium unit, low key, in a cul-de-sac street. Not really high profile, but according to this gentleman, houses great personalities. Walter relayed the story of one of the first tenants here, who's been living at the 9th floor for the last 20 years: he was the counselor of the counselor of the King of Thailand. There was also Monsieur Lieutenant General, the first Thai who graduated from the London School of Aviation (yes, Khun Lieutenant was a pilot).
Then there was Marco, the Chef in Bangkok's premiere Italian Restaurant L'Opera, who lives at the 9th. There was the Italian dude at the fifth, who was the go-to guy for anything Italian. We were promptly given a small pint of Italian traditional cheese to sample that Signore's produce.
Walter says that Bangkok is full of surprising personalities. My favorite story was how Walter, a piano teacher by profession, knew the Dalai Lama's personal adviser--also a pianist himself. "This man," Walter said, "is Spielman's son's best friend." That promptly gave me goosebumps; The Pianist's (from the Polanski film) son was three degrees from me just by speaking to my neighbor one floor down.
There are other stories, like the Yakuza who opens the door in his briefs; about the crazy lady from the 7th floor; and the former owner of L'Opera who sold his resto to a German for 60 million big ones.
Walter promptly invited us to have Happy Hour at the Italian Restaurant across the street one day, where we can dine on cheese and fresh bread avec Sangiovese, all for less than THB300. And then, in a gesture of hospitality, gifted us with a packet of authentic Japanese green tea and a box of Ceylon apple infusion, which he had in abundance as supplied by his piano students.
It was a good evening meeting the neighbors. I think I'm liking them already.
Today we met Walter, the Belgian French-speaking pianist who lives one floor below, and he was a great talker. Philippe just chatted him up en Francaise, so they conversed in French, naturellement. I joined the elevator, so being polite, chirped 'Bon soire'. Walter was pleased, Elle parle francaise? To which my beloved said, in perfect English, "Just a bit". Ah, bon, said our new friend.
We live in a 9-storey condominium unit, low key, in a cul-de-sac street. Not really high profile, but according to this gentleman, houses great personalities. Walter relayed the story of one of the first tenants here, who's been living at the 9th floor for the last 20 years: he was the counselor of the counselor of the King of Thailand. There was also Monsieur Lieutenant General, the first Thai who graduated from the London School of Aviation (yes, Khun Lieutenant was a pilot).
Then there was Marco, the Chef in Bangkok's premiere Italian Restaurant L'Opera, who lives at the 9th. There was the Italian dude at the fifth, who was the go-to guy for anything Italian. We were promptly given a small pint of Italian traditional cheese to sample that Signore's produce.
Walter says that Bangkok is full of surprising personalities. My favorite story was how Walter, a piano teacher by profession, knew the Dalai Lama's personal adviser--also a pianist himself. "This man," Walter said, "is Spielman's son's best friend." That promptly gave me goosebumps; The Pianist's (from the Polanski film) son was three degrees from me just by speaking to my neighbor one floor down.
There are other stories, like the Yakuza who opens the door in his briefs; about the crazy lady from the 7th floor; and the former owner of L'Opera who sold his resto to a German for 60 million big ones.
Walter promptly invited us to have Happy Hour at the Italian Restaurant across the street one day, where we can dine on cheese and fresh bread avec Sangiovese, all for less than THB300. And then, in a gesture of hospitality, gifted us with a packet of authentic Japanese green tea and a box of Ceylon apple infusion, which he had in abundance as supplied by his piano students.
It was a good evening meeting the neighbors. I think I'm liking them already.
Friday, September 16, 2011
Exciting!
Season 2 started with a BANG.
Oh yes, it's an explosive season premiere, and man, was it a rollercoaster of an episode today. Ibang klase talaga to work at a Regional Office.
Siyempre, drama queen that I am, merong may-I-cry-with-matching-hagulgol moment ngayon. Nothing alarming, the pressure to do well (overachiever kasi ang inyong lingkod) was just too much. Nakakaloka, buti na lang I have another language to fall back on. Imagine, kung Ingles lang ang wika ko, ang boring siguro ng buhay ko! Ang saya saya magTagalog ngayon, lalo na to make taas my kilay with matching rolling of the eyes and raising the shoulders. Sarap ilabas ang inner bakla to make taray, I swear. Without going into the gory details, this week packed a wallop in the stress category. Mega super gigantic humongous over sa sobra as in tremendous talaga!
If what I'm writing sounds like incomprehensible gibberish to you, then, my dear reader, you have fully understood my day today.
I'm just thankful for music (the Rat Pack, thank you Mr. Chairman of the Board), for my family (love to Mama and Papa), and my cherished Cheri (without you, hun, I would have had a terrible meltdown by now. mwah! mwah!)
Buti na lang din, may Diyos akong makapangyarihan at napakahenerosong magmahal. Amen!
Oh, and such great timing too. Actually, I celebrated my 11th month in Bkk on Monday, and wow, coming full circle soon. Woohooo!
As I close this entry, Ol' Blue Eyes was crooning, "Dream your dream!"
Oh yes, it's an explosive season premiere, and man, was it a rollercoaster of an episode today. Ibang klase talaga to work at a Regional Office.
Siyempre, drama queen that I am, merong may-I-cry-with-matching-hagulgol moment ngayon. Nothing alarming, the pressure to do well (overachiever kasi ang inyong lingkod) was just too much. Nakakaloka, buti na lang I have another language to fall back on. Imagine, kung Ingles lang ang wika ko, ang boring siguro ng buhay ko! Ang saya saya magTagalog ngayon, lalo na to make taas my kilay with matching rolling of the eyes and raising the shoulders. Sarap ilabas ang inner bakla to make taray, I swear. Without going into the gory details, this week packed a wallop in the stress category. Mega super gigantic humongous over sa sobra as in tremendous talaga!
If what I'm writing sounds like incomprehensible gibberish to you, then, my dear reader, you have fully understood my day today.
I'm just thankful for music (the Rat Pack, thank you Mr. Chairman of the Board), for my family (love to Mama and Papa), and my cherished Cheri (without you, hun, I would have had a terrible meltdown by now. mwah! mwah!)
Buti na lang din, may Diyos akong makapangyarihan at napakahenerosong magmahal. Amen!
Oh, and such great timing too. Actually, I celebrated my 11th month in Bkk on Monday, and wow, coming full circle soon. Woohooo!
As I close this entry, Ol' Blue Eyes was crooning, "Dream your dream!"
Monday, September 5, 2011
Season Finale: Mangroving in Krabi
I love great season enders, and in my teleserye life, I think today is the best season ender for Biyaheng Bakawan Season 1.
Remember, I started this blog almost a year ago. Episode 1 was 'The Big Move', when I flew to Bangkok on the eve of my 30th birthday. Only the hotel front desk officer wished me happy birthday then, because no one in this land knew I was celebrating my third decade that day. Episode 2 was 'Clear as Mud', when I was unsure of what I was doing in Bangkok chasing my mangrove dream (sabi nga ni Lourd Ernest deVeyra, "Nakaka-t*ng*n* this, di ba?"). Episode 3 was 'Sri Lanka: The Emerald Isle'; then, Episode 4 'Buddha Bless You' immediately followed by 'Pilipinas Kong Mahal'.
'Pas de parle Americain' (I and II) was a two-part episode concluded by 'BS kayong lahat!!!' (I was having a very uneasy first and second quarters). Ilang episodes na ba? I think I have at least 13, complete with a season break when I went back home to Manila this June ('Time Out'). There was also this most tumultuous time in Phuket when I went through my Eureka moment ('Joie de Vivre'). Then came the Season CliffHangers, 'Oui, Je T'aime Aussi' and 'Route 66' (remind me to write about these later). I think today is the best day, though, and today is the Season Finale.
I call it "I, Mangrover."
Yep, I've come full circle in my mangrove-chasing career. I've reached my pinnacle. Today, I reconnected with one of the mangrove world's foremost mangrove heroes (Dr. Norm Duke, the original Dr. Jones of the mangroving world). Tomorrow, I celebrate my 100th* visit to a mangrove forest, and it's in the Krabi estuary, a RAMSAR site. I've been chasing mangroves since I was 10, and for 20 years, it's been a great journey. Since devoting my early career to mangroves, I've been all over the Philippines, and almost all over the world. I've been to Singapore; to Viet Nam; to Malaysia; to France; to New Zealand; to Sri Lanka; and to Thailand. Ibang klase talaga ang buhay kasama ng mga bakawan!
Tapos na ang Season 1. Ano kaya ang darating sa Season 2?
Abangan!
*indicative of how I lost count of how many mangrove forests I've seen and visited in the past 10 years
Remember, I started this blog almost a year ago. Episode 1 was 'The Big Move', when I flew to Bangkok on the eve of my 30th birthday. Only the hotel front desk officer wished me happy birthday then, because no one in this land knew I was celebrating my third decade that day. Episode 2 was 'Clear as Mud', when I was unsure of what I was doing in Bangkok chasing my mangrove dream (sabi nga ni Lourd Ernest deVeyra, "Nakaka-t*ng*n* this, di ba?"). Episode 3 was 'Sri Lanka: The Emerald Isle'; then, Episode 4 'Buddha Bless You' immediately followed by 'Pilipinas Kong Mahal'.
'Pas de parle Americain' (I and II) was a two-part episode concluded by 'BS kayong lahat!!!' (I was having a very uneasy first and second quarters). Ilang episodes na ba? I think I have at least 13, complete with a season break when I went back home to Manila this June ('Time Out'). There was also this most tumultuous time in Phuket when I went through my Eureka moment ('Joie de Vivre'). Then came the Season CliffHangers, 'Oui, Je T'aime Aussi' and 'Route 66' (remind me to write about these later). I think today is the best day, though, and today is the Season Finale.
I call it "I, Mangrover."
Yep, I've come full circle in my mangrove-chasing career. I've reached my pinnacle. Today, I reconnected with one of the mangrove world's foremost mangrove heroes (Dr. Norm Duke, the original Dr. Jones of the mangroving world). Tomorrow, I celebrate my 100th* visit to a mangrove forest, and it's in the Krabi estuary, a RAMSAR site. I've been chasing mangroves since I was 10, and for 20 years, it's been a great journey. Since devoting my early career to mangroves, I've been all over the Philippines, and almost all over the world. I've been to Singapore; to Viet Nam; to Malaysia; to France; to New Zealand; to Sri Lanka; and to Thailand. Ibang klase talaga ang buhay kasama ng mga bakawan!
Tapos na ang Season 1. Ano kaya ang darating sa Season 2?
Abangan!
*indicative of how I lost count of how many mangrove forests I've seen and visited in the past 10 years
Thursday, August 25, 2011
Dawn magic
I woke up today at 4am, and I relived why I love waking up at daybreak.
Sky's pitch black, and everything is still. It's stormy in south Thailand now, but waking up in the stillness gave me that feeling of being in a cocoon.
I like waking up before everyone else because it lets me be with myself. I remember thinking this morning, "This is bliss." My creativity and concentration is at its finest before the first hint of sunlight, and I feel I can do anything.
Pag kasi gising na lahat ng tao, nakakaasar na magtrabaho.
In the stillness, I can think. In the quiet, I can concentrate. There is a hum of well-being, and I feel all is right with the world. I can write, I can think straight, I can hear my heart speak what it truly wants to do--and that is doing what it wants without being disturbed or interrupted.
Pero pagsikat ng araw, at paggising ng mga kapitbahay, wala na. Magulo ang mga tao e; andaming demands sa oras. Their very presence rattles me.
Pag may araw na, the magic is gone. Pakiramdam ko laging may nakamasid; hindi ako mapalagay. Hindi ako makakilos ng gusto ko. Laging pigil-hininga. Constrained. I dread the day kasi naiisip ko, "emails na naman; people na naman; computer na naman!"
This should not be the case. Hindi ako dapat mabuhay ng ganito. Kailangang may magbago.
But in the meantime, I am glad to just have relived that moment of peace and calm. Happy ako to feel like I used to when I still woke up before daybreak. I should do it more often.
Maybe one day, when I get my own place with a view of the sea.
Sky's pitch black, and everything is still. It's stormy in south Thailand now, but waking up in the stillness gave me that feeling of being in a cocoon.
I like waking up before everyone else because it lets me be with myself. I remember thinking this morning, "This is bliss." My creativity and concentration is at its finest before the first hint of sunlight, and I feel I can do anything.
Pag kasi gising na lahat ng tao, nakakaasar na magtrabaho.
In the stillness, I can think. In the quiet, I can concentrate. There is a hum of well-being, and I feel all is right with the world. I can write, I can think straight, I can hear my heart speak what it truly wants to do--and that is doing what it wants without being disturbed or interrupted.
Pero pagsikat ng araw, at paggising ng mga kapitbahay, wala na. Magulo ang mga tao e; andaming demands sa oras. Their very presence rattles me.
Pag may araw na, the magic is gone. Pakiramdam ko laging may nakamasid; hindi ako mapalagay. Hindi ako makakilos ng gusto ko. Laging pigil-hininga. Constrained. I dread the day kasi naiisip ko, "emails na naman; people na naman; computer na naman!"
This should not be the case. Hindi ako dapat mabuhay ng ganito. Kailangang may magbago.
But in the meantime, I am glad to just have relived that moment of peace and calm. Happy ako to feel like I used to when I still woke up before daybreak. I should do it more often.
Maybe one day, when I get my own place with a view of the sea.
Tuesday, August 23, 2011
Post-prawn fried rice moments (Ode to Nay Juliet of LaCo 93)
Mahirap palang maging masaya.
Kapag pala pinili mo ang landas ng Pagiging Masaya, dudumugin ka ng mga tao ("Hayup!"), bagay, at pangyayari na pilit maglalayo sa'yo sa landas na pinili mo.
Trust me. I know.
Today was a long day, and as much as I am tempted to say that today is the "longest, hardest day" of my life, I won't label today as such. Because honestly, I've had worse. Particularly on certain days during my 24th, 26th, and 28th years. Now, I'm no numerologist or superstition fanatic--but I'm starting to believe that my even-number years are my most unbearable ones. Anyway, I'm digressing.
Back to today. I've never felt so drained and so spent, and so emotionally distraught. Today I have encountered the most combative, abrasive, and condescending moments I have ever received in my professional career. Thank goodness I have a great God who reminds me about what is truly important. And, I am fortunate to have a sense of humor ("I am Jack Sparrow!"), and a dedicated quest to follow the path of happiness.
Simple lang ang gusto ko. Ayoko ng drama, ayoko ng mga mala-divang eksena. Ang gusto ko, umuwi ng bahay pagkatapos ng trabaho, at hindi mag-isip ng tungkol sa trabaho. Gusto ko, walang homework. Ayoko ring magkaroon ng kulubot sa mukha; lalong ayoko ng puting buhok bago ako tumanda!
Hindi worth it ang maglaan ng halos kalahati ng buhay ko sa isang trabaho na ikamamatay ko.
Kaya nga pinili kong maging masaya. Pinipili ko ito araw-araw, kahit mahirap, kahit nakakaloka. Kahit pa isipan ng iba na ako'y medyo kakaiba. Pinipili kong maging masaya.
Pero, mind you, mahirap maging masaya.
NB: Masaya in Filipino means "Happy". Maging masaya means "to be happy". Mahirap means "difficult". When I was having a hard time growing up as an adolescent, and happiness seemed so far away, my favorite freshman high school teacher would always end her Reflectionaire (personal journal) notes with "Be happy!" She always told me this long after I left high school. Love you Nay Juliet...I miss your guiding presence so much! As I pass through this most difficult time, I remember you, and how you kept telling us to "Wag yung pangit ang tingnan, wag yung kulang" (Don't dwell on the ugly, don't dwell on the loss). Nay, thank you so much for giving me the foundation to be strong. God bless you. Be happy!
Kapag pala pinili mo ang landas ng Pagiging Masaya, dudumugin ka ng mga tao ("Hayup!"), bagay, at pangyayari na pilit maglalayo sa'yo sa landas na pinili mo.
Trust me. I know.
Today was a long day, and as much as I am tempted to say that today is the "longest, hardest day" of my life, I won't label today as such. Because honestly, I've had worse. Particularly on certain days during my 24th, 26th, and 28th years. Now, I'm no numerologist or superstition fanatic--but I'm starting to believe that my even-number years are my most unbearable ones. Anyway, I'm digressing.
Back to today. I've never felt so drained and so spent, and so emotionally distraught. Today I have encountered the most combative, abrasive, and condescending moments I have ever received in my professional career. Thank goodness I have a great God who reminds me about what is truly important. And, I am fortunate to have a sense of humor ("I am Jack Sparrow!"), and a dedicated quest to follow the path of happiness.
Simple lang ang gusto ko. Ayoko ng drama, ayoko ng mga mala-divang eksena. Ang gusto ko, umuwi ng bahay pagkatapos ng trabaho, at hindi mag-isip ng tungkol sa trabaho. Gusto ko, walang homework. Ayoko ring magkaroon ng kulubot sa mukha; lalong ayoko ng puting buhok bago ako tumanda!
Hindi worth it ang maglaan ng halos kalahati ng buhay ko sa isang trabaho na ikamamatay ko.
Kaya nga pinili kong maging masaya. Pinipili ko ito araw-araw, kahit mahirap, kahit nakakaloka. Kahit pa isipan ng iba na ako'y medyo kakaiba. Pinipili kong maging masaya.
Pero, mind you, mahirap maging masaya.
NB: Masaya in Filipino means "Happy". Maging masaya means "to be happy". Mahirap means "difficult". When I was having a hard time growing up as an adolescent, and happiness seemed so far away, my favorite freshman high school teacher would always end her Reflectionaire (personal journal) notes with "Be happy!" She always told me this long after I left high school. Love you Nay Juliet...I miss your guiding presence so much! As I pass through this most difficult time, I remember you, and how you kept telling us to "Wag yung pangit ang tingnan, wag yung kulang" (Don't dwell on the ugly, don't dwell on the loss). Nay, thank you so much for giving me the foundation to be strong. God bless you. Be happy!
Monday, August 8, 2011
Attending adult kindy
I just discovered that the fitness club is the adult form of kindergarten.
I recently availed of my office's staff development program and signed up for group exercises in the local health club. I like the whole routine of one hour after work, running and walking on the treadmill or doing regular stretches. I even tried Zumba! and discovered my inner diva (makes me miss my bakla days back home!) Today, I joined a circuit training class called 'Lose It!'. I thought it was a serious cardio-aerobics class, but to my surprise, it was playtime with grown-ups.
"Okay! Welcome to Lose It! Today, we run! Run! Jog! March! That's right, lift your feet! Yey!"
We were three full grown people, and we were jumping, hopping, skipping and running. We even tossed light purple balls around. It seemed like foolish, childlike play time during recess, but wow! What a work out!
I relished the idea that grown ups get to be kids again in posh fitness clubs, and I already signed up for the next class.
I recently availed of my office's staff development program and signed up for group exercises in the local health club. I like the whole routine of one hour after work, running and walking on the treadmill or doing regular stretches. I even tried Zumba! and discovered my inner diva (makes me miss my bakla days back home!) Today, I joined a circuit training class called 'Lose It!'. I thought it was a serious cardio-aerobics class, but to my surprise, it was playtime with grown-ups.
"Okay! Welcome to Lose It! Today, we run! Run! Jog! March! That's right, lift your feet! Yey!"
We were three full grown people, and we were jumping, hopping, skipping and running. We even tossed light purple balls around. It seemed like foolish, childlike play time during recess, but wow! What a work out!
I relished the idea that grown ups get to be kids again in posh fitness clubs, and I already signed up for the next class.
Wednesday, July 27, 2011
Befriending my Computer, Part 2
I have made peace with my computer.
A little more than a fortnight later, I managed to navigate the little black beast. I even learned how to use Mind Maps (another software I used to abhor), but because the application allowed me to map the entire structure of my computer drive (hallelujah!), I appreciated its use.
Now, the saga continues. System requirements: reboot!
Postscript: thanks to Paul Staincliffe of AgResearch for pointing me in the right direction, and Ian Witten of Web Dragons lore (aka University of Waikato's Computer Science Department) for providing the context of digital library management. Of course, to mon cheri Philippe, for letting me befriend my computer in the most painless way possible.
A little more than a fortnight later, I managed to navigate the little black beast. I even learned how to use Mind Maps (another software I used to abhor), but because the application allowed me to map the entire structure of my computer drive (hallelujah!), I appreciated its use.
Now, the saga continues. System requirements: reboot!
Postscript: thanks to Paul Staincliffe of AgResearch for pointing me in the right direction, and Ian Witten of Web Dragons lore (aka University of Waikato's Computer Science Department) for providing the context of digital library management. Of course, to mon cheri Philippe, for letting me befriend my computer in the most painless way possible.
Thursday, July 14, 2011
Befriending my computer
I don't like computers.
I think computers are cold, alienating objects that rob people of personal connections. They're also a big liability, consuming tremendous amounts of electricity and crashing during the most critical moments. Ironically, I use a computer everyday. At least eight hours, in fact. I write with it, read with it, and sometimes, talk through it. And I hate it every time I use it.
As much as possible, I avoid using the computer. I leave my work unit at the office, and I grudgingly use my personal one at home. I have begun to harbor secret jealousy over that computer, which I feel Philippe spends more time with during the week than with me. Never mind if Philippe is a computer scientist by vocation; I still resent that black Compaq beast he stares into whenever he's with it.
These days, however, I face my biggest challenge yet: I have to organize a digital library. I knew it was only a matter of time until the universe conspired against me and handed me a mandate to face my most abhorred task: working fulltime with computers.
I understand how inevitable computers are nowadays. These machines are the tools for our trade: they are the new pen and paper; the new card catalogue; the new photo album. But what I dislike so much about them, is their immense dependency on the user--the blasted things won't work properly unless you tell them to do so!
Concrete example: in the olden days, when I saw something in my head, I either drew it on paper or constructed it using materials I've gathered. I then present it to people, or package and send it through post. Now, because people can work "remotely" and needs "graphics" to verbalize what's in their head, the ideas need to be "saved in a Word document"; "illustrated using Adobe"; or "uploaded through Picasa Web". To perform all these, I need to use the computer. Bah, humbug!
Obviously, I'm having a paradigm shift. As with any life-altering event, this is going to take a while.
Computer, befriend thyself!
I think computers are cold, alienating objects that rob people of personal connections. They're also a big liability, consuming tremendous amounts of electricity and crashing during the most critical moments. Ironically, I use a computer everyday. At least eight hours, in fact. I write with it, read with it, and sometimes, talk through it. And I hate it every time I use it.
As much as possible, I avoid using the computer. I leave my work unit at the office, and I grudgingly use my personal one at home. I have begun to harbor secret jealousy over that computer, which I feel Philippe spends more time with during the week than with me. Never mind if Philippe is a computer scientist by vocation; I still resent that black Compaq beast he stares into whenever he's with it.
These days, however, I face my biggest challenge yet: I have to organize a digital library. I knew it was only a matter of time until the universe conspired against me and handed me a mandate to face my most abhorred task: working fulltime with computers.
I understand how inevitable computers are nowadays. These machines are the tools for our trade: they are the new pen and paper; the new card catalogue; the new photo album. But what I dislike so much about them, is their immense dependency on the user--the blasted things won't work properly unless you tell them to do so!
Concrete example: in the olden days, when I saw something in my head, I either drew it on paper or constructed it using materials I've gathered. I then present it to people, or package and send it through post. Now, because people can work "remotely" and needs "graphics" to verbalize what's in their head, the ideas need to be "saved in a Word document"; "illustrated using Adobe"; or "uploaded through Picasa Web". To perform all these, I need to use the computer. Bah, humbug!
Obviously, I'm having a paradigm shift. As with any life-altering event, this is going to take a while.
Computer, befriend thyself!
Wednesday, July 13, 2011
Nine months and counting
Last time I wrote here I was promising myself a good year. And writing about international karaoke. And talking about mangroves.
Since then, I've travelled to East Thailand, South Thailand, and Viet Nam. I've gone island hopping, river boating, and mangrove pubpeabing (Thai traditional respectful pose on a Rhizophora root). I've eaten durian and sticky rice; doggy lechon (thit cho--in my defense, I thought it was roast pork on the plate); and crispy crickets.
On March, Philippe and I welcomed our first house guest from New Zealand/Philippines. Amar Durakovic was a great house warmer, and we enjoyed reviving a tradition born in Hamilton: The Film Club now lives in Bangkok.
April and June were interesting because I went back home to Manila and brought Philippe along with me. I am so delighted that my family adored him, and now I'm in trouble because my dad likes him a lot (they're allies now). My baby brother Aaron married his longtime sweetheart Sallee, and I received news that my cousin Ejie in the States is set to welcome his firstborn soon (as I write, my first pamangkin Layla Sophia Cortez is happily snuggling in her cot). My Ninang's labrador Sophie had a new litter, and Papa's Persian cat Ichiko is growing at a phenomenal rate.
The month of May was sabai-sabai ('feevty-feevty'). It wasn't my best month. The shining moment was a weekend at Danmoen Saduak, the popular Thai floating market. Reliving the action scenes in Bangkok Dangerous was exhilarating.
Amidst the flurry of activities, I've done a lot of soul searching and career learning. It seemed like freshman year again; I felt the urge to 'shift'. After six months of working on my first regional post, I felt I was failing miserably. Everything I worked on seemed to move at snail's pace, and everyone in senior management around me left the office for other careers. I even felt I was drifting away from my beloved mangroves, and I seriously asked myself, "Do I still want to do this?" In one of my journal entries, I wrote in desperation, "I've forgotten what I love to do!"
I am really grateful for Philippe's generosity through it all. During one of my more doleful pity-parties, he stood by me, patiently hearing me out. Bless his kind heart (of course, the Phuket beach air helped a bit, too).
In a last ditch attempt to pull myself out of the dumps, I jumped on a small grants field trip with project managers and we sailed off to the second largest mangrove forest in Thailand. As I was weaving my way around Rhizophoras and quietly admiring the Bruguieras, I asked God and the mangroves, "Lord, do I really have to give up my dream? Is it time to stop my mangrove chasing?" As if on cue, the Thailand coordinator asks me to pubpeab (sit squat-style, with knees folded and palms facing together in a prayer pose) on Rhizophora roots. I gamely do, and I tell you, it was as if I sat on a mother's lap. Serenity on earth.
As our boat was sailing out into the river, I looked at the mangrove canopy and saw two white egrets fly. At that moment, I felt at peace. My spirit was reassured. God was telling me to not lose heart. If I love, I must take both the good and the bad.
My mangrove journey will have its rough spots (and boring times), but it will always have its shining moments. I realize that there are no perfect career places, but there will always be family and people who inspire me to carry on.
Salamat sa mga mahal ko sa buhay, andito pa rin ako.
(Thanks to those I love, I'm still here.)
Since then, I've travelled to East Thailand, South Thailand, and Viet Nam. I've gone island hopping, river boating, and mangrove pubpeabing (Thai traditional respectful pose on a Rhizophora root). I've eaten durian and sticky rice; doggy lechon (thit cho--in my defense, I thought it was roast pork on the plate); and crispy crickets.
On March, Philippe and I welcomed our first house guest from New Zealand/Philippines. Amar Durakovic was a great house warmer, and we enjoyed reviving a tradition born in Hamilton: The Film Club now lives in Bangkok.
April and June were interesting because I went back home to Manila and brought Philippe along with me. I am so delighted that my family adored him, and now I'm in trouble because my dad likes him a lot (they're allies now). My baby brother Aaron married his longtime sweetheart Sallee, and I received news that my cousin Ejie in the States is set to welcome his firstborn soon (as I write, my first pamangkin Layla Sophia Cortez is happily snuggling in her cot). My Ninang's labrador Sophie had a new litter, and Papa's Persian cat Ichiko is growing at a phenomenal rate.
The month of May was sabai-sabai ('feevty-feevty'). It wasn't my best month. The shining moment was a weekend at Danmoen Saduak, the popular Thai floating market. Reliving the action scenes in Bangkok Dangerous was exhilarating.
Amidst the flurry of activities, I've done a lot of soul searching and career learning. It seemed like freshman year again; I felt the urge to 'shift'. After six months of working on my first regional post, I felt I was failing miserably. Everything I worked on seemed to move at snail's pace, and everyone in senior management around me left the office for other careers. I even felt I was drifting away from my beloved mangroves, and I seriously asked myself, "Do I still want to do this?" In one of my journal entries, I wrote in desperation, "I've forgotten what I love to do!"
I am really grateful for Philippe's generosity through it all. During one of my more doleful pity-parties, he stood by me, patiently hearing me out. Bless his kind heart (of course, the Phuket beach air helped a bit, too).
In a last ditch attempt to pull myself out of the dumps, I jumped on a small grants field trip with project managers and we sailed off to the second largest mangrove forest in Thailand. As I was weaving my way around Rhizophoras and quietly admiring the Bruguieras, I asked God and the mangroves, "Lord, do I really have to give up my dream? Is it time to stop my mangrove chasing?" As if on cue, the Thailand coordinator asks me to pubpeab (sit squat-style, with knees folded and palms facing together in a prayer pose) on Rhizophora roots. I gamely do, and I tell you, it was as if I sat on a mother's lap. Serenity on earth.
As our boat was sailing out into the river, I looked at the mangrove canopy and saw two white egrets fly. At that moment, I felt at peace. My spirit was reassured. God was telling me to not lose heart. If I love, I must take both the good and the bad.
My mangrove journey will have its rough spots (and boring times), but it will always have its shining moments. I realize that there are no perfect career places, but there will always be family and people who inspire me to carry on.
Salamat sa mga mahal ko sa buhay, andito pa rin ako.
(Thanks to those I love, I'm still here.)
Sunday, February 6, 2011
Mangroves and Knowledge on a Sunday Brunch
How uncanny it is to find two of my favored topics on the same table today over Sunday brunch. It was such a breath of fresh air to speak of mangroves and knowledge management with teenagers on their way to making a difference in the realms of geography and the sciences. Bless the parents who encourage them, and the schools that allow them to explore possibilities. I hope that these young 'uns keep cultivating their curiosity and creativity.
What's more fascinating is to have the conversation both in English (moi) and French (sila). Tapos, mga Pilipina rin sila. Astig di ba? Best of all worlds, all a la table. Goodness knows where my passion for mangroves will take me next.
(Complimentary plug for the Bangkok Guide for Kids, by Kids. Authored by Andrea and Ines Dumont. The comprehensive guide is not just for Kids, but for adults too. Maraming salamat, Pamilya Dumont, sa pagtanggap sa amin ni Philippe. Pagpalain kayo!)
What's more fascinating is to have the conversation both in English (moi) and French (sila). Tapos, mga Pilipina rin sila. Astig di ba? Best of all worlds, all a la table. Goodness knows where my passion for mangroves will take me next.
(Complimentary plug for the Bangkok Guide for Kids, by Kids. Authored by Andrea and Ines Dumont. The comprehensive guide is not just for Kids, but for adults too. Maraming salamat, Pamilya Dumont, sa pagtanggap sa amin ni Philippe. Pagpalain kayo!)
Friday, January 21, 2011
Milestone on the 3-month mark
I just came back from an all night international karaoke.
It was pretty cool to see people threshing out their cathartic moments on a microphone accompanied by music and lyrics from a big screen. I never thought I could sing Thai, but hey, it works. I found that singing "Chimi-chimi-ah-ah!" works very well for my tonal range.
I turned three months in Thailand on 12th January, and before that day, I was in Chiang Mai, seeing the country and scaling its heights. It was a great achievement for me, jumping on that bus, with people who could only speak the most basic of English, and who probably had no clue that I was Pinoy. I used to be terrified of venturing out my street by myself, but on my third month in this Kingdom, I find myself mustering up the courage to go beyond my familiar street zones. I am slowly warming up to this place. I am feeling the urge to explore my new 'hood.
So tonight, after witnessing how much coke and whisky people can have while singing 6 hours of karaoke non-stop, and how many different kinds of dance moves can be applied to the songs of the Backstreet Boys, I think I'm ready for more city exploring.
Chai, chai. Yiam ma!
It was pretty cool to see people threshing out their cathartic moments on a microphone accompanied by music and lyrics from a big screen. I never thought I could sing Thai, but hey, it works. I found that singing "Chimi-chimi-ah-ah!" works very well for my tonal range.
I turned three months in Thailand on 12th January, and before that day, I was in Chiang Mai, seeing the country and scaling its heights. It was a great achievement for me, jumping on that bus, with people who could only speak the most basic of English, and who probably had no clue that I was Pinoy. I used to be terrified of venturing out my street by myself, but on my third month in this Kingdom, I find myself mustering up the courage to go beyond my familiar street zones. I am slowly warming up to this place. I am feeling the urge to explore my new 'hood.
So tonight, after witnessing how much coke and whisky people can have while singing 6 hours of karaoke non-stop, and how many different kinds of dance moves can be applied to the songs of the Backstreet Boys, I think I'm ready for more city exploring.
Chai, chai. Yiam ma!
Wednesday, January 5, 2011
Happy 2011
Masaganang Bagong Taon mga Kaibigan!
I wrote a while back saying that once my apartment is clean, I will be ready to take on my new city with gusto and bravado. I have, and I am. Over the last new year holiday, I stayed at my flat, cleaned my kitchen, my cupboard and my floors. My flat is all gleaming and fresh smelling now, and is already looking more like a home. I celebrated by going out on my first ever New Year's Party (yes, yes, with the alcohol, and the beef, and the revelry, and the fireworks too). I met a Thai Darth Vader (posed for a photo too), and saw how much His Majesty the King is revered by the Thai people. I spent the night with new friends in a new environment, and I was just amazed at how efficient public transportation is in the city (sky train open until 2 am, oh I love commuting!). I cleaned, did the laundry, and completely unpacked during the first three days of the year, and on the fourth of January I was ready for work. It was a good way to start the year.
Today, everybody noted how happy I looked. Your eyes shine now, they say. Good sign, I say. Looks like I've settled in.
Happy new year indeed.
I wrote a while back saying that once my apartment is clean, I will be ready to take on my new city with gusto and bravado. I have, and I am. Over the last new year holiday, I stayed at my flat, cleaned my kitchen, my cupboard and my floors. My flat is all gleaming and fresh smelling now, and is already looking more like a home. I celebrated by going out on my first ever New Year's Party (yes, yes, with the alcohol, and the beef, and the revelry, and the fireworks too). I met a Thai Darth Vader (posed for a photo too), and saw how much His Majesty the King is revered by the Thai people. I spent the night with new friends in a new environment, and I was just amazed at how efficient public transportation is in the city (sky train open until 2 am, oh I love commuting!). I cleaned, did the laundry, and completely unpacked during the first three days of the year, and on the fourth of January I was ready for work. It was a good way to start the year.
Today, everybody noted how happy I looked. Your eyes shine now, they say. Good sign, I say. Looks like I've settled in.
Happy new year indeed.
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