I just got off from an FX taxi.
No. this isn’t the first time I rode an FX.
Actually, I’ve been riding an FX since I learned how to commute from our home to everywhere.
But there was something interesting in this particular ride home.
As I sat in front, I was able to pick out, very distinctly, every word of the driver as he was talking to his fellow “tsupers” over a walkie-talkie.
This is a rather fascinating technology, I said to myself.
Usually, I would just hear the drivers talk about their route, update each other about the traffic conditions and, if there isn’t much news, talk about each other’s lives.
But as I was listening intently, I felt like Robert Langdon and Sherlock Holmes combined.
You see, I just figured out, they were talking in codes.
Yup. And after listening to a few sentences, I discovered the following: “5-9” meant “pasahero”; “kilo” meant “puno” (full); and “shirley” meant fly-over.
It was totally weird to me, since the driver was combining these codes to form sentences, and of course, they totally understood each other.
Then, it dawned on me.
Codes hide secrets. But Codes reveal relationships.
You don’t talk in codes to everyone.
Codes are for special people.
Like “Pooshie-wooshie” to your sweetheart, and “Heinekers” to your best bud – for whatever those words could mean.
And when two people understand each others’ codes, a relationship is forged.
Just like how God talks to you.
And how God talks to me.
You see, God wants to forge a relationship with you. Yes, YOU.
And he does this by His codes.
And those codes are exclusively for you and for Him.
You see, your relationship with God is something special.
Something only YOU and HIM could understand.
He understands your brokenness.
He listens to your discomforts and complaints even though you’re really not saying them aloud.
He sees your losses.
He feels your pains and failures even though you constantly hide it from him.
And because of that, he is willing to talk to you. And heal you. And forgive you.
If only you would also listen to his codes.
If only you would turn down the noise of the world and turn up his voice in your heart.
I’m sure that God is saying something to you right now.
And don’t worry. If you don’t get it at first, he will repeat his words over and over until you answer him back with yours.
October 10, 2009
Saturday, October 10, 2009
Monday, September 28, 2009
Christmas Day after the Floods
It was like Christmas morning.
The streets were clear. There was a chill as the wind blew. And by the truckload, food has been pouring endlessly.
But it was not Christmas at all.
I was riding the MRT on the morning after Ondoy.
And lo, as my eyes beheld the rain-drenched and empty streets of EDSA, I almost heard it screaming silently due to the tragedy it overcame that fateful Saturday.
I don't know if i would feel lucky or miserable because of what happened. By default, i woke up at 12 noon that day, only to find out that the rains from the past night have not subsided. Because of this, I couldn't but stay home and even rejoice because we had no classes that afternoon. But then, as the news, and the waters came pouring in, I realized that this was not like the other rain i had witnessed in my lifetime. It was unstoppable. It was dark. It was angry.
You see, I wasnt that accustomed to floods. That's because our street has been "flood-proof" until now. When i was younger, i would watch the news and look at videos of the knee-high, waist-high, and chest-high floods in places like valenzuela, pasig, malabon and those infamous flood-prone areas, and never thought that something close would happen to us. But that morning, when i received the news that outside our gates, the waters were ankle-deep, i panicked.
It was a long afternoon that followed.
People had nowhere to go, stranded on top of their roofs. I too had nowhere to go, stranded in the comfort of my bed.
People were cold under the rain. I too was cold to the people - my facebook status still bearing the memories of the hangover from the night before.
People were waiting for help - some, for help that would come 29 hours later. I was waiting for my mom and dad, who went shopping for emergency goodies.
And when the rains stopped that evening, i felt an utter wave of disgust.
A disgust with myself as i saw the tragic pictures, the videos and the messages of my friends on the internet.
Where was I? How could I? Why did I?
Living inside warm cement walls on top of a metropolitan hill does not mean that we always end up on the winning end of a natural disaster such as this. On the outside, it may seem that way. But deep inside, there is a sense of loss. A loss of a responsibility. A responsibility I did not stand up to. A responsibility i totally ignored.
With this blog, I hope I can regain my responsibility over my fellowmen. Today, i will push myself to answer to that. I have alot of clothes to give, alot of food to spare (talk about the fulfillment of my long-awaited diet!), and alot of prayers to pray.
And maybe when i answer to this responsibility, it would really feel like Christmas day after all.
The streets were clear. There was a chill as the wind blew. And by the truckload, food has been pouring endlessly.
But it was not Christmas at all.
I was riding the MRT on the morning after Ondoy.
And lo, as my eyes beheld the rain-drenched and empty streets of EDSA, I almost heard it screaming silently due to the tragedy it overcame that fateful Saturday.
I don't know if i would feel lucky or miserable because of what happened. By default, i woke up at 12 noon that day, only to find out that the rains from the past night have not subsided. Because of this, I couldn't but stay home and even rejoice because we had no classes that afternoon. But then, as the news, and the waters came pouring in, I realized that this was not like the other rain i had witnessed in my lifetime. It was unstoppable. It was dark. It was angry.
You see, I wasnt that accustomed to floods. That's because our street has been "flood-proof" until now. When i was younger, i would watch the news and look at videos of the knee-high, waist-high, and chest-high floods in places like valenzuela, pasig, malabon and those infamous flood-prone areas, and never thought that something close would happen to us. But that morning, when i received the news that outside our gates, the waters were ankle-deep, i panicked.
It was a long afternoon that followed.
People had nowhere to go, stranded on top of their roofs. I too had nowhere to go, stranded in the comfort of my bed.
People were cold under the rain. I too was cold to the people - my facebook status still bearing the memories of the hangover from the night before.
People were waiting for help - some, for help that would come 29 hours later. I was waiting for my mom and dad, who went shopping for emergency goodies.
And when the rains stopped that evening, i felt an utter wave of disgust.
A disgust with myself as i saw the tragic pictures, the videos and the messages of my friends on the internet.
Where was I? How could I? Why did I?
Living inside warm cement walls on top of a metropolitan hill does not mean that we always end up on the winning end of a natural disaster such as this. On the outside, it may seem that way. But deep inside, there is a sense of loss. A loss of a responsibility. A responsibility I did not stand up to. A responsibility i totally ignored.
With this blog, I hope I can regain my responsibility over my fellowmen. Today, i will push myself to answer to that. I have alot of clothes to give, alot of food to spare (talk about the fulfillment of my long-awaited diet!), and alot of prayers to pray.
And maybe when i answer to this responsibility, it would really feel like Christmas day after all.
Friday, July 10, 2009
Blessings Multiply Naturally.
I am a regular attendee of the FEAST with the Light of Jesus Community.
At least since last May.
I didn’t believe in charismatic praise, nor in loud prayer, nor in a jam-packed hall of strangers greeting each other.
I liked the books of Bo, and I thought that he, together with his books, his jokes, his small entrepreneurial ventures, was trying to set up a brand new religion when I first got there.
It was all foreign to me. I was literally born and raised inside a parish setting, and under a very conservative and religious family. So you could understand how silly I felt when I first raised my hands in a different kind of worship to God.
It changed me. Inside and Out.
It was only till two Sundays ago that I was able to bring along two companions to the Feast. They were my two co-teachers, and they were not the church-going types, more so, the loud-praise and dance types. Both had their Sunday clear, so no one would lose if they spared a couple of hours inside, I thought.
The moment they stepped in, I immediately saw shock in their apparently smiling faces. They tried to sing to the foreign songs played. They tried to smile at every person smiling back at them. And out of respect, at least they stood up while everyone else was dancing madly for the Lord. At the back of my mind, “Lord, I hope they forgive me after this!”
When everything subsided, and while going back to the car, I said “Uy, thank you for joining me.” And the most unexpected answer came back at me: “Anong thank you? THANK YOU!”
Wow.
And I thought I owed them big time!
But they couldn’t stop talking about it since.
Guess what?
I did it again last Sunday. Two of my former students asked if they could tag along.
“Sure!” I said.
Then, I remembered that one of them was serving in a Christian community apart from the Catholic Church. But hey, what have I got to lose?
So there we were again. History repeated itself, and I was red-faced again with anxiety. But this time, all I said was “Bahala na si Lord.”
And right after we left the doors, I tapped them at the back and said, “Thanks for joining me.” And there it was again. They said, “Anong thank you? THANK YOU!”
And we all told our stories until we parted that afternoon.
It is just awesome how God uses such little people as you and me to become instruments of his love. Sometimes, it really makes me wonder: How worthy am I to be his disciple? Who is worthy?
And knowing that ultimately, no one is worthy, when was the last time God used you as his instrument?
Saturday, June 20, 2009
Balik Busko
It's like a hit in the face.
Barely two months have passed since i tended my resignation letter as a teacher in Don Bosco. Together with that was the controversial broadcast that I was to leave my beloved alma mater for personal reasons, not to mention much greener pastures.
But no. It seems that a Spirit continues to haunt me. Because guess what?
I'm back.
And i feel good about it.
But not that good.
Because as July sets in, i would have to give a repeat performance for my goodbyes and valedictions.
Here's the story.
One of our co-teachers had to take a leave for family reasons. Because of that, the department immediately had to get someone who could substitute for the month of June. I was one of their options, and since i didn't have anything to do for the month, eventually, i conceded to their offer. I were to teach English 3 to Rinaldi, Rua, Variara, and Versiglia, while taking responsibility for 3 Versiglia as adviser.
Even though i was giddy with excitement of meeting new students and doing what i really love to do, at the back of my mind was a haunting thought that literally paralyzed me to the bone. What if the students dont take me seriously? What if I havent learned from my mistakes? What if I get too attached and find it difficult to leave again?
These were peircing through my gut as the memories of standing in front of total strangers entangled me.
However, as my first day arrived, everything unfolded before my very senses. The 35 young men who stood in front of me, arranged in two straight lines, were like a seamless horizon, painted with the blue and yellow of the sky and sea. Soon after, as they entered the classroom, their silence and attention were like soldiers waiting for the next instructions, as if holding on for dear life to every word that came out of my mouth. And as the day progressed, i couldnt but thank God for this opportunity which i immediately let pass after a year.
I still have seven days to be with all of them. And so far, I already feel a sense of responsibility and dedication towards them, even though i know that it wont be for long. But on second thought, I dont really have to feel nostalgic about it because I wouldnt be leaving after all. Don Bosco has always been my second home, my second family. So wherever I go, i believe that the things i have learned, the people i have met, and the relationships i have forged will always welcome me back on my next return.
Barely two months have passed since i tended my resignation letter as a teacher in Don Bosco. Together with that was the controversial broadcast that I was to leave my beloved alma mater for personal reasons, not to mention much greener pastures.
But no. It seems that a Spirit continues to haunt me. Because guess what?
I'm back.
And i feel good about it.
But not that good.
Because as July sets in, i would have to give a repeat performance for my goodbyes and valedictions.
Here's the story.
One of our co-teachers had to take a leave for family reasons. Because of that, the department immediately had to get someone who could substitute for the month of June. I was one of their options, and since i didn't have anything to do for the month, eventually, i conceded to their offer. I were to teach English 3 to Rinaldi, Rua, Variara, and Versiglia, while taking responsibility for 3 Versiglia as adviser.
Even though i was giddy with excitement of meeting new students and doing what i really love to do, at the back of my mind was a haunting thought that literally paralyzed me to the bone. What if the students dont take me seriously? What if I havent learned from my mistakes? What if I get too attached and find it difficult to leave again?
These were peircing through my gut as the memories of standing in front of total strangers entangled me.
However, as my first day arrived, everything unfolded before my very senses. The 35 young men who stood in front of me, arranged in two straight lines, were like a seamless horizon, painted with the blue and yellow of the sky and sea. Soon after, as they entered the classroom, their silence and attention were like soldiers waiting for the next instructions, as if holding on for dear life to every word that came out of my mouth. And as the day progressed, i couldnt but thank God for this opportunity which i immediately let pass after a year.
I still have seven days to be with all of them. And so far, I already feel a sense of responsibility and dedication towards them, even though i know that it wont be for long. But on second thought, I dont really have to feel nostalgic about it because I wouldnt be leaving after all. Don Bosco has always been my second home, my second family. So wherever I go, i believe that the things i have learned, the people i have met, and the relationships i have forged will always welcome me back on my next return.
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
The Perfect First Day
It seems like a "first day" phenomenon has been the talk of the blogosphere for a lot of students, not to mention, a handful of Bosconians, whom i have had the privilege to know this past year. A few moments back, i browsed through a number of blogs of former students, ranting and raving about the highs and lows of their first day in school.
Would I be left behind? of course not.
Today was my first day too. In Grad School, that is. However, it was far from perfect. My classes start at 6 in the evening and end at 9. And since today was the first day, I was all so prepared and psyched up about heading to school and braving the wet streets of Shaw Boulevard, V. Mapa and Katipunan just to get to my class.
It takes approximately an hour to get to school from our house, so imagine the panic i had when at 5:03pm, I was merely stepping out of the shower! I rushed to pick out the perfect clothes for the perfect first day, but at the back of my mind were the words: "You're late! You're late!" Timing was crucial. I had to pack my things right after that, and literally swoosh through the puddles of rainwater carelessly collected throughout our street. I got on a ride, and by 5:50, i was dripping wet, and was standing on the platform of the LRT 2. "Four minutes and 30 seconds," it read. And there i was, at the mercy of the train and the tricycle i was to board right after.
To cut the long story short, I was late. And lo and behold, my teacher was late too! Or so i thought. I headed straight to the empty classroom, only to find out from the janitor that two students had just left, apparently waiting for the teacher to show up. In other words, there was really no "first day" to talk about. Sweaty, drenched and poorer by 84 pesos (that's the fare to and from school), I walked around the corridors of the dim building, with only the faithful word of the janitor that the first day was cancelled.
Lesson learned? I heard this from one of our college professors: "Prima non datur" or "The first is not given" -- the first meeting in class, that is. And Grad school is definitely not an exception!
And that's what makes the First Day always Perfect.
Would I be left behind? of course not.
Today was my first day too. In Grad School, that is. However, it was far from perfect. My classes start at 6 in the evening and end at 9. And since today was the first day, I was all so prepared and psyched up about heading to school and braving the wet streets of Shaw Boulevard, V. Mapa and Katipunan just to get to my class.
It takes approximately an hour to get to school from our house, so imagine the panic i had when at 5:03pm, I was merely stepping out of the shower! I rushed to pick out the perfect clothes for the perfect first day, but at the back of my mind were the words: "You're late! You're late!" Timing was crucial. I had to pack my things right after that, and literally swoosh through the puddles of rainwater carelessly collected throughout our street. I got on a ride, and by 5:50, i was dripping wet, and was standing on the platform of the LRT 2. "Four minutes and 30 seconds," it read. And there i was, at the mercy of the train and the tricycle i was to board right after.
To cut the long story short, I was late. And lo and behold, my teacher was late too! Or so i thought. I headed straight to the empty classroom, only to find out from the janitor that two students had just left, apparently waiting for the teacher to show up. In other words, there was really no "first day" to talk about. Sweaty, drenched and poorer by 84 pesos (that's the fare to and from school), I walked around the corridors of the dim building, with only the faithful word of the janitor that the first day was cancelled.
Lesson learned? I heard this from one of our college professors: "Prima non datur" or "The first is not given" -- the first meeting in class, that is. And Grad school is definitely not an exception!
And that's what makes the First Day always Perfect.
Saturday, February 14, 2009
Babang Luksa
Tomorrow marks our dear Uncle Rolly's 40th day in the Lord's heavenly presence.
But because the Bible says, "With the Lord one day is like a thousand years, and a thousand years like one day" (2 Pet. 3:8), it is difficult to measure by human time how the Lord has already rewarded this great man with Beatific Vision in His presence.
Who knows? While Uncle Rolly was gone from us for a mere 40 days, could he have been rejoicing, relaxing and remaining in the Lord for "thousands of years" already? Wow...
On the other hand, it also amazes me how this tradition of Babang Luksa has sprung up in the Filipino psyche. Those of us who are familiar with this deeply rooted Christian practice know well that this culture of "putting away our sorrowful veils" (hence the term "babang luksa") after 40 days of the death of our loved one springs from Christ's ascension into heaven exactly 40 days after Easter Sunday. Hence, religious as we are, we are assured that as Jesus ascended into heaven, the soul of our beloved departed is taken into heaven.
Today, I rejoice because Uncle Rolly's death has not been in vain. His life has been a living testament of happiness itself. he is the epitome of positivity. And because of this, the 22 years i spent with him were the most optimistic years of my life. Because of his death, his memories, his influence, his advice will continously throb in my heart forever.
To all the people who have been praying for his soul, to all those who have been greiving with us, and to all those who have accompanied our family's journey, allow me to say Thank You from the bottom of our hearts.
Indeed, Uncle Rolly is praying that God would reward your selflessness!
But because the Bible says, "With the Lord one day is like a thousand years, and a thousand years like one day" (2 Pet. 3:8), it is difficult to measure by human time how the Lord has already rewarded this great man with Beatific Vision in His presence.
Who knows? While Uncle Rolly was gone from us for a mere 40 days, could he have been rejoicing, relaxing and remaining in the Lord for "thousands of years" already? Wow...
On the other hand, it also amazes me how this tradition of Babang Luksa has sprung up in the Filipino psyche. Those of us who are familiar with this deeply rooted Christian practice know well that this culture of "putting away our sorrowful veils" (hence the term "babang luksa") after 40 days of the death of our loved one springs from Christ's ascension into heaven exactly 40 days after Easter Sunday. Hence, religious as we are, we are assured that as Jesus ascended into heaven, the soul of our beloved departed is taken into heaven.
Today, I rejoice because Uncle Rolly's death has not been in vain. His life has been a living testament of happiness itself. he is the epitome of positivity. And because of this, the 22 years i spent with him were the most optimistic years of my life. Because of his death, his memories, his influence, his advice will continously throb in my heart forever.
To all the people who have been praying for his soul, to all those who have been greiving with us, and to all those who have accompanied our family's journey, allow me to say Thank You from the bottom of our hearts.
Indeed, Uncle Rolly is praying that God would reward your selflessness!
Sunday, February 8, 2009
Sparkling Gems of Advice
Some true and useful advice from a great theater actress, singer and mother, Ms. Lea Salonga. Taken from her article in the Philippine Daily Inquirer, Jan. 28, 2009:
1) A chain is only as strong as its weakest link. (Translation: if you, second chorus girl from the left, suck, so does the show.)
2) Make sure your lifestyle compliments your work. In other words, no unnecessary partying during the run.
3) Self-indulgence has no place here. This is a musical, not a concert.
4) Never ever give less than your best. Even if there are only seven people in the audience, those seven made the effort to watch you. The least you can do is demonstrate your appreciation by giving them a good show.
5) You’re not here to make friends; you’re here to work. (Having said that, I’ve made some really wonderful friends at work.)
6) Live your life as fully as you can. How and where else will you get what you need as an actor?
7) Bring your day into your work, and let it run through you. It doesn’t matter if you had a good or bad day.
8) Warm up thoroughly before the show. But not too much that you have nothing left to give.
9) Listen. If you listen, you won’t be out of tune.
10) You are never funny. The material is.
11) Your job in a musical is to service the show, not the other way around. The whole is much greater than the sum of its parts.
12) Leave your ego at the door. There is no place for it here.
13) Professionalism is more than just being on time. It’s about being prepared, consistent, focused and hardworking.
14) Live each moment as it comes. Don’t anticipate what’s going to happen next.
15) Surrender yourself completely to the experience of being on tour. Take it all in.
16) You signed up for this … don’t complain.
17) Be easy to work with. It’ll make for a happy workplace.
18) Be obsessive in your research for the role you’ll be playing. Your interpretation of that character’s songs will never ever be the same.
19) Learn to not take things personally. Be it a newspaper critic or casting director, you will be judged based on your work, not on the person you are.
20) Don’t behave in a way that will attract disrespect. It’s so easy to make a company hate you … and hate you with a passion. (I’ve heard my share of stories about nightmarish actors who hoard costumes from peers and plant negative thoughts into fellow actors’ minds. Not cool.)
21) Make sure you eat something before rehearsals. You’re going to be on your feet all day.
22) When finding a voice/acting teacher, let it be someone you really get along with and respect.
23) There can be so much power and strength in stillness.
24) Be present in what you’re doing, and invest your heart and soul into it. Everyone will be able to tell if you’re phoning it in.
25) After all is said and done, HAVE FUN! This, after all, is the best job in the world.
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