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.
Thursday, August 25, 2011
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!)
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