Be a Cyber Volunteer!

How to be a cybervolunteer:

1. post status updates about where volunteers should go
my friends Cybele and Camille noted that there is a surplus of volunteers in some areas, while the rest are in need to extra help
2. post/text weather updates and tips
3. call relief centers to confirm their hours of operation
4. inform friends here and abroad about what happened and how they can help
5. monitor the news and web and post shoutouts to your friends

with thanks to Karen Borbon-Seno

Taking care of ourselves

My father’s house was completely devastated by the floods. He rebuilt his life, at 59 years old and settled in Provident Village. None of us ever thought he would have to escape to his attic as he watched the flood waters rise to the second floor of his home and damage everything he worked for for the past ten years. As he was throwing out mementos he painstakingly collected for decades – photos, cards, letters – he acknowledged that this was the most painful thing he had to do. And at 59 years old, with his good years behind him, how will the government help him regain his second wind?

I don’t think they have any idea how. Not for my father, not for the families of the over 200 people who perished, not for the nearly half a million citizens displaced by the typhoon. They don’t have a clue.

And so I officially give up. What little hope I had left for the government had been washed away by the flood waters, and have mingled with the unidentifiable mess of mud, garbage and my countrymen’s broken dreams. It was only a matter of time before this happened, but instead of taking precaution, they took time. They also took the money and all the other resources that were supposed to help the people. In short, they took away our lives.

Typhoon Ondoy and the subsequent flooding of Manila was a catastrophe waiting to happen. I am appalled that the government did wait for it to happen, and then begin scrambling at the last minute “to do the right thing.” The right thing should’ve been to repair the drainage systems, educate people on climate change, implement laws and policies on caring for the environment, and enact concrete measures for waste management.

But that’s all in the past now isn’t it? We know we’ve always been let down – why expect anything else? We’ve learned to live with hardship (20 typhoons a year, regular flooding in low-lying areas, evacuation centers that kill more survivors than the calamities they’ve escaped from) and in spite of it. In fact it’s in our DNA to laugh at adversity and make a joke or two, to lighten the load or comfort a friend.

But how much longer can we manage to shrug off the government’s negligence? How much more BS can we take from corrupt politicians and breakdowns in our system? How much longer are we going to live with pitiable health care, pathetic disaster management programs, and deplorable conditions in many parts of our city – all hazards just waiting to become disasters?

If the government can’t take care of us, then we just have to take care of ourselves. As Atty. Frances Pesayco-Aquino (my aunt) so eloquently put it: we just get down and do what we have to do – with government, without it, in spite of it. In fact, news reports have been trumpeting the efforts of volunteers: on the ground, in the water, overseas and online. The Filipinos are coming together, of their own accord, to take care of one another. And we don’t need any grandstanding trapos to lead us. We don’t need empty promises from government officials and agencies. All we need is each other and our bayanihan spirit, our innate kindness and concern to see our neighbors better off than how they previously were.

We’ve taken the first step to rebuilding our country and ourselves, by reaching in, literally and figuratively and pulling one another out of the murky flood waters of indifference.

These are the real Filipinos – the men, women and children who suffer yet are still able to lend a helping hand and a smile. We just need to stick together. And if there’s any joke we will crack it will be that the government is the biggest joke of all. You can never put the Pinoy down; we’ll be laughing in your face as you try!

We can get through this. Kapit-bisig, mga kababayan! And when all the hard work is done, give each other a pat on the back: we did it, all of it, together!

-with thanks from Ian Roxas, Enteng Balasbas, Atty. Frances Aquino

Un printemps en Adelaide

There's something really about spring weather that makes everyone more...cheerful. Could be the sunshine, warmer days and evenings, the pollen, the grass and flowers growing again, the crisp air. Maybe the deep chemical and biologial links we humans have with our natural surroundings are triggered, telling us that this is the time for new beginnings. This is a time to grow. And so everyone steps into the sunshine and soaks up all that warm goodness.

Growth comes in many forms: as lovehandles you notice one morning while dressing up for work; a once-lean bank account now slowly fattening up; efforts to eat better, more healthy meals; new friends; new adventures; new places to visit. I should also mention opportunities -- opportunities to work and make contributions, positively, to the community and to one's self esteem. It's been a blessing for me to be able to work, really work, in an office and experience Australian culture first hand. This was something I've always wanted to do. Not to say volunteering doesn't offer that. Volunteering gives a different kind of satisfaction, one money really cannot match. But to be able to work and prove one's capabilities, and get paid for it, is quite another. It kind of, seals your ability and provides proof of your expertise -- that you can hold your own in other places and cultures. It's like another passport to more opportunities. And I am really stoked about that.

While the word "growth" may denote "gaining" something, there is also something to be said about growth by "losing." When you lose something, or someone, you realize important things that were always there, but not always highlighted. It was only by losing that you see the layer beneath the "comfortably consistent" and when it's lost that's when the lessons start to flood. Depending on your personality type, there are many ways to handle this: I did it by throwing a tantrum, pouting, kicking myself mentally, scolding myself for days on end, trying to replay in my mind the events of the day and how I could have avoided the mistakes. It's exhausting, it's punishing. But for Type 1s like me, I acknowledge that it is part of my coping process. I will get over it soon, but I am still in that space. Hopefully this stage of growth does indeed teach me, if not to take better care of situations, to be gentler on myself.

The growing season is not limited to this couple in Adelaide, though. My siblings have been experiencing their share of growth: proudly, two of my siblings are achieving things for themselves. Thea is in Singapore, with a contract to teach in a music school -- her dream. And Denise is presenting at Pecha Kucha in Boracay, only one of the biggest and most popular modern art exhibits and presentations that has toured the world. In fact it was in Melbourne last month! Andrei's team is back in the UAAP's Final Four (hoping they win it this year!) and Monique is flourishing in her events business. There's a lot to be proud of, ey? I am looking forward to all the stories come Christmastime.

I wish I could take a snapshot of this time and hang it on my wall, a reminder of how wonderful it is to really feel like you're growing, and getting so much out of this once-in-a-lifetime experience. Of course it will serve as a looking-back so that one can move forward. Dwelling on the past is not always healthy. But revelling in the reminder that, this whole experience is possible for anyone who wants it, and wants it bad enough to go out there and get it, only makes the task worth retelling and remembering. The lessons that will come out of this time will be priceless, and I can't wait to see what all of those would be. Most of all, I can't wait to see who I will be.

Salamat po Tita Cory.

Paalam.










*all photos link back to the source from which they were grabbed.

Cory and the color of Hope

I remember how excitedly my parents roused me and my brother from sleep in the wee hours of the morning, made us wear our cleanest yellow shirts, our jackets and our slippers. They did not bother with our pajamas: we had to be on the streets NOW!

It was only when we were seated inside my uncle's passenger jeepney that I learned what was going on: Ferdinand Marcos had fled the country, and Cory Aquino was the new president of the Philippines. At this news my brother and I immediately waved our yellow-and-green pennants at every passerby. "Cory! Cory!" we chanted. Pedestrians waved back, cars tooted their horns in tune, the color yellow was everywhere. Hope had come to the Philippines.

As I look back on the years when she was in office, and observe the fervor that once propelled the People Power Revolution disintegrate into scathing criticisms of her failure as the country's leader, I realize I haven't enough years or experience living in Martial Law-Philippines to compare with Cory's presidency. All I know is, change came to the Philippines.

People say Cory's rule allowed many things to return: the freedom of the press not the least of them. She revised the Constitution, it was also during her reign that the US Bases were closed. I still remember watching her speech at the US Congress on TV. All the US Senators and Congresspeople stood and applauded her entry. Once on the podium, dressed in her trademark yellow suit, radiant, she flashed her winning "laban" sign. I felt that gesture was a solid acknowledgment, a shout out to the millions of Filipinos watching her. It was the symbol of the people's triumph. It was a great moment to be Pinoy.

As the years wore on I noticed how many who once fought for her were steadily disillusioned with her. My dad, who once spent days and nights printing her campaign posters, joining rallies and marching at EDSA, was suddenly criticizing her. She was now regarded as a weakling, without a mind of her own, installing her own cronies and building a family dynasty. The coup d'etas were to be her presidency's bane, and I figure she was just too happy to hand over the reins to Fidel Ramos when her term ended.

I've always been rather apathetic to the circus that is Philippine politics. But I will always remember Tita Cory as one person who made me change my mind about the possibilities in the Philippine government. She was, after all, the first woman president -- something not even the United States could afford to do. But first and foremost, she was a Filipina. She stood for the virtues that we value: an unwavering faith, unconditional love and the tenacity to finish whatever one has started. People who knew her say she wasn't the least bit corrupt, was always pleasant, and had the most untarnished reputation among all the Philippine presidents, past and present.

For these credentials alone, I think she should be remembered the way Ninoy was. In life, as in death, they paved the way for one another to keep the dream of a great Philippines alive. They kept to their motto: the Filipino is worth dying for.

There will be no frantic horn-tooting and pennant-waving today. But Pinoys everywhere will be in yellow to commemorate the life of a woman who put the country on the map again. Future generations of kids in pajamas will only read about the life she lived and will acquire an experience of her more diluted than mine. But the important thing to know is, Cory lived. Cory brought change. Cory brought hope.

Let that yellow ribbon always remind us of this.

The Characters of Adelaide International House

It occurred to me I haven’t introduced our housemates to everyone! Adelaide International House, the hostel where we live, is a temporary home to mostly Asians. A majority are Chinese, there are some Indians, a Japanese woman, a couple of Africans, and a lone Australian.

The people I know best are those who live on our floor, aside from Rachelle, our house manager, who lives on the floor above us. The Chinese on our floor are mostly from Beijing: professionals in the accounting and law professions. There’s Hally, who’s from KPMG. She’s looking for a job in Adelaide, after studying accounting here 2 years ago. The same goes for Rebecca, who used to work for a sister company of HP in Beijing. She works in a mall down south. Zhang Bei is also an accountant, who is on a training course in the city. She worked for a company called SK (South Korea) Energy in Beijing, but quit that job because she didn’t like the management there. Then there’s Lisa, a lawyer-turned-accountant, who’s taking units at the University of South Australia. She left her husband and son in Beijing to study here.

Then there are the Pinoys: Anne and Alma, Benc’s classmates at Uni. Anne is a 27-year old Ateneo graduate who's spending all her hard-earned money for this MSIT project. She has no background in programming at all, but is at the top of her class. Alma is a mom from Baguio who won the scholarship too. Her family's arriving next month. Then there's Rommel Pangaruy: a Pinoy who migrated to New Zealand, and then to Queensland. He’s in Adelaide on a consultancy contract for 5 months.

On our floor also (Mine and Benc’s neighbors actually) are 2/4 of the Indian scholars: Wevic and Gotam, undergrads studying engineering at the UniSA as well. They’re here with their classmates Lohit and Naranjan (who live upstairs) on a 6-month exchange program, all expenses paid. It’s Lohit and Naranjan’s shower that was leaking into our room. But it’s all right now. The landlord fixed it.

Of course, there’s Rachelle, my favorite person in the whole hostel. She’s only 23 but came on her own to Adelaide to study English and community work. She was totally on her own, and learned how to cook here. She learned how to get around, make a little money (by being the hostel cleaner twice a week) and cook her own meals, which she never used to do in China. She’s a straight talker, honest and disciplined. She’ll tell you straightaway if she doesn’t agree with your opinions, but will laugh loudly at any anecdote she finds funny (even if you don’t). She idolizes Benc, loves my cologne, teases Anne about her hair in the morning and is a fan of sinigang and adobo.

Michael meanwhile is the manager, our landlord's right-hand man. He's here everyday and he seems more like a resident than the care-taker. We go out to movies, drives to Mt. Lofty (a small mountain resort 20 minutes' drive from the city) and lunches with us when he can. He's Malaysian. He came to Australia to study in Queensland, and then he moved to Adelaide to work. He's engaged to his Chinese girlfriend and they're getting married next year here in Adelaide.

We bump into each other everyday: in the common room, along the hallways, in between cooking shifts in the kitchen. At first we exchange pleasantries, talking about the weather maybe. Then eventually we exchange cooking tips. We offer one another a taste of our latest concoctions and then eventually we get to talking about why we’re all in Adelaide in the first place. Most are here to study--the Oz government gives out scholarships to increase the country’s reputation as an education-destination, its main competitor being New Zealand. South Australia is one of the main destinations, in part because the state would like to increase its population to one million people, and they decided they need help from immigrants to achieve this in three years. The Philippines and South Australia actually have an MOU to bring over 300,000 Filipino skilled workers over the course of ten years!

Others are here to find work so that they can eventually apply for permanent residency in two years. Unfortunately, even casual work is hard to come by these days. Hally, who wishes to bring her parents over from China, has been steadily losing steam and I advised her to volunteer: at least it’s something to do, and counts as “local experience”-- that bugger of a requirement when applying for jobs in big companies.

I’ve always been fascinated by the dynamic that goes on when people from different cultures interact and try to find common ground. I love the negotiation of language, how we try to find familiar words to define a single concept. I love the way we sort through concepts that are so tightly bound to our own cultures and learn how to find something similar in another culture. Most of all, I love how we discover that, there is so much we don’t know about cultures that are supposed to be close to ours, and how deeply we’ve perpetuated stereotypes. Everyday interactions with our housemates reveals something new, whether it be a key ingredient to a dish or the most revered work of literature in their country. These are definitely things that one can’t just get from books.

From our Chinese friends I learned that most of them find the one-child policy “crazy” and “stupid.” They too are appalled by the pollution in Beijing. And, surprise: none of them believe in Feng Shui. “This is for the old people, the grand parents,” Lisa says, and she was surprised when I said lots of Filipinos believe that Chinese believe in this fervently. She denies this vehemently. “It’s crazy! No one can sustain this belief,” she exclaims in disbelief.

We can communicate in English, but there are times when they need help from Rachelle to find the words they need. Rachelle is probably the best English speaker among the Chinese at our hostel. She can speak basic English quite well, with occasional missing articles, the wrong conjugation of a verb, or a mispronunciation. Her jaw dropped when we told her we got an overall band of 8 on the IELTS, when she struggled to even just get a 6. She says she gets annoyed with the Australian accent (especially the rising tone at the end, as if everything was a question) but she doesn’t realize she actually has the same mannerism already. I “forced” her to read Harry Potter. She said she has seen all the movies but was afraid the book might be too complicated for her to understand. When I assured her it was a children’s book and was easy and fun to read, she dove right in...and got so engrossed, she fell behind in some of her assignments! hehehe.

One thing I can say about the Chinese: they are uber hardworking. They will take on absolutely anything, be it a cleaners’ job or a drastic career change, and make it work. I guess this is one reason why they are everywhere, and I don’t mean just bumping into them on the street or sitting beside them in a bus. They are in every job you can imagine and seem to occupy every imaginable task. There are Chinese busboys and girls, Chinese store owners, Chinese accountants, bankers, waiters and cooks, drivers and gym sales consultants. It’s as if they created a market for themselves, and industries that need them, which force Australian businesses in turn to cater to them: food products and special language services are available for the Chinese nationals, reading materials and whatnot, even specific job needs: Jurlique, a leading cosmetic company here was actually looking for sales and make-up consultants who could speak Mandarin or Cantonese! It’s almost unbelievable, how they were able to do this, but when you look closer, they simply just decided to do something and did it, which was: survive, and create opportunities for themselves and others.

There’s a lot to learn from them, not least of which are their cooking methods. I’ve been taught a great deal by Lisa, Zhang Bei and Rachelle, and I have some tricks up my sleeve, which I will not divulge here. :) Let’s just say it has a lot to do with chili, high heat and lots of sauces. Yummy!

Newcomers to the hostel are the Indian students from Tamil Nadu, in the southern part of India. Lisa refers to them as the Indian Force: tall Indian guys with loud voices and interesting personalities. We were all impressed with their respectfulness and attitude. They’re always greeting us when they bump into us, and are always ready for a chat. What I like about them is that they read. They READ! I was discussing some Indian writers with them and I was so pleased to find that they themselves have read these works, and in fact recommended other works for me to explore. When their meal times coincide with ours, they love to discuss movies and tv shows. They are all interested in sci-fi, but surprisingly in Harry Potter too! They had a lot of opinions about HP 6, which I thought was amusing: 4 engineering students discussing a fantasy children’s book. Then again, this was the most significant piece of literature during their growing years, written by an individual who was from the same country that colonized them.

Unfortunately (or fortunately), they haven’t begun cooking any Indian meals. They aren’t familiar with the English names of the spices used in their dishes, and have to acquaint themselves with these first. They did hip up a chicken tikka masala one night, using a prepared sauce which, they say, was nearly as good as the original. I’m going to try that next week, and see what happens. They made us try a very unique dessert called rasmalai. I can’t describe the process; all I know is that it’s extracted from cooking buffalo milk and then soaking them in syrup. The ones they made us try were soaked in rose syrup.

Because we all use the kitchen, we’ve developed a kind of unspoken schedule and etiquette. I usually cook early, around 10 am when I'm preparing lunch. Then Lisa comes in with Zhang Bei and we usually hog the facilities (there are two 4-burner stoves) while we have a chat. Sometimes Hally and Rebecca pop in for the odd microwaveable or quick-cook dish. By the time the Indian Force arrives, we’re plating up, while they chop and bang pans around and try to figure out what to do first. We Pinoys and Chinese would be finishing up our meals when the guys come out with their food. And we all have about ten minutes of chitchat before we clean up and attend to the day’s business. It’s pretty much the same procedure at night, except that Rachelle, who lives on the third floor joins the party downstairs. For some reason, our kitchen draws people in. We don’t know what it is, but people like cooking in our kitchen.

In the evenings, when it’s too cold to go out, or it’s that time of the month to cut back on eating in restaurants, we sit around longer and tell stories over the ambient sound of the television set. This is when we learn more about each other, about one another’s cultures, how unique some customs are and yet how similar other practices are to our own. We’re all very family-oriented; we’re all very friendly and polite; we like to share (anything from stories to food to kitchen implements) and we value companionship. Some very striking differences though: our Indian friends are quite assertive when it comes to their opinions, while we Pinoys and Chinese tend to speak with “softer” words and manners. The Chinese, like the Pinoys, are very aware of their individual personal spaces, but we Pinoys will always make room in case we see others who need it. To me the Filipinos are still some of the most compassionate and kindest people on the planet. That unique characteristic of “pakikisama,” "malasakit" and “pakikipag-palagayang loob” is invaluable when it comes to getting along, networking and gaining peoples’ trust. This also comes in handy, I’ve found, when you need the landlord to fix something NOW.

I think foreigners are charmed by our gentle ways, our good humor, politeness and kindness, that they don’t mind doing things for us. It helps a lot too that we can speak really good English. Unlike our Chinese friends who have to relearn the concept of Western speech versus their own, and our Indian friends whose heavy and rich accents, and quick speech sometimes causes a bit of misunderstanding, Pinoys’ grasp of English is second nature. In that, I feel we will always have an advantage, and it helps us cope -- it helps us get what we need and gives us access to information that helps us live more efficiently. Most of all, it helps us get in good with our hosts--our Australian hosts, that is. Because of our grasp of the language, we get to have more conversations, allow us to understand each other, even joke with one another and even develop friendships.

So English is the official language at Adelaide International House. We revert to the vernacular of course when we’re talking amongst ourselves, or when we have a comment and don’t want others to hear. I’m sure they do the same thing. This “speaking in tongues” is definitely common across all cultures. I believe nothing matches the color and emotion of speech when expressed in your own language.

A dripping faucet's
plik plop
contrasts nicely with the silent sensual movement
of a single streak of water
leaking down the southern wall of my room.
Outside the rain falls unabated
and the cold wanders in
from gaps in the window,
filling up the empty space around me.
Inside
the fire sputters and spits.
I crank up the metal heater
hoping for some warmth.
I hold my hands over it for a minute
and reach for my throw.

Updates from Adelaide

This is volume two of the Adelaide Adventures. Another month has come and gone, and things are settling down for me. I'm getting into the rhythm of the winter days, when the sun sets before five thirty in the afternoon and doesn't show up til 7.30 am the next morning.

Come to think of it, the sun gets more "sleep" than we do! That is, Benc and I.

The past month has been hectic for Benc because of midterms and some final exams in his 6-unit subjects. Programming subjects -- which he has had to reacquaint himself with -- were difficult for him. There was a time when he came home all gray and tired at 8.30 in the morning because he had to finish programming projects in school. This last week was packed with exams and today, on his birthday (oops, tapos na pala), he continued to work. We postponed any grand celebrations for the weekend and next week so that we could enjoy them. But I did cook a mean pasta bolognese, we had sausages and some fruit the night before, and waited for 12 midnight of the 25th. Will share photos of the celebrations soon.

In the meantime, I've been keeping myself busy looking for work still. It's difficult for casuals and those with short term Visas to find a job in this recession. I should have expected it. Despite sending out hundreds of versions of my resume, I still haven't been called to another interview. Getting rejected can be painful I realized, haha. HAven't experienced that in a while I guess. So here it is. I grit my teeth and continue searching. While that's going on, I decided to go ahead and join a gym, and apply for volunteer work. At least there's been some progress with that.

I joined Fitness First Adelaide. BIG MISTAKE. Though their equipment are all state of the art, there are many packages to choose from and the location is VERY near (less than ten minutes' stroll from where we live) it's just too impersonal for me. I mean, in the smaller gyms I've joined in Manila, they would at least take the time to create a basic start-up program with you, with some consultation and orientation on the use of the equipment. At Fitness First, I was totally on my own! What, because I chose the cheapest package (off-peak hours)? And here they were harping on about how customer-oriented they are. It's true what all the reviews about them say: they overcharge, and make it difficult for you to cancel outside of your trial period. I'm still within that grace period, so it's not much of a problem for me. Good thing I experienced it all first hand, and I have no qualms about leaving. At least I get to take the gear (backpack, water bottle, satchel and cap) with me. Hehehehe.

Today I took a trip on one of the free connector buses in Adelaide, and rode to North Adelaide, where the posher suburbs are. I went to the North Adelaide Community Center for a mini-interview, and to see their place. This is where my volunteer work will take place. I signed up to teach computer and web use to citizens who, for some reason or another, have 0 experience with computers. There are some who are as young as 20 years old! Interesting no? This will take up about 1.5 hours a week. I met with Kate, the volunteer coordinator and she took me around their activity hall and their kitchen, their library and oriented me on the idea of the program. Gosh, nakakainggit yung community center nila...it looked like, and was equipped with facilities that are usually reserved for commercial venues. The places that come to mind are those like the Bramante ballrooms, or even the VV Country CLub, or the Makati Sports Club, but BETTER! It's well stocked and clean. There's toilet paper and liquid soap in the bathrooms (which are so clean!) and there are bickies, tea and coffee in the pantry...all for free. Kate says, literally anyone in the community pops in and has a snack there. There are computers that residents can use for free. The NACC pala is also the North Adelaide Library, which is part of the network of libraries in the city, so it's connected to the one I joined a month ago. That means I can use the facilities there too!

The center hosts dancing lessons, board games and mahjong, card games, exercise games and various events -- all for free! Nakakaloka! It makes your heart ache thinking, why were they able to do it and we still can't? We're a much older republic. We have such a rich culture, we're as intelligent and capable as the rest of them, we're caring and patient. We're hard working...and still our local governments have difficulty getting their act together. Hay. Anyway, I'll have more stories about that experience. Needless to say, Kate was more than happy to have another volunteer. She says that the one-on-one computer sessions are their most popular program, and there's a waiting list of thirty people already, and only five volunteers working! I'm going to take an occupational safety and health seminar (for free) at the City Council Office, and then I'll start reporting on July 6. People I meet tell me it's a good way to network and maybe get a foothold in the employment jungle. I'm hoping it is!

This weekend is the last week of the EOFYS -- the End of Financial Year Sale, so all shops are going crazy this weekend to move their stock. We're planning a trip to IKEA and Harbourtown -- a mala-warehouse place of all the branded names but with super low prices, lower even when they're on sale here in Rundle Mall in the city. It's about 20 minutes by bus from where we live, and we're going to have the full-on brekkie at IKEA. Treat na rin for Benc and his classmates, for weathering a slew of difficult exams and projects the last week. Maybe we'll check out what they're willing to give for free, hahaha! I'll take photos and post them on my FB, so that you can check them out.

Oh, and one of the exciting highlights of the day: I actually found manggang hilaw at the Central Market!!!! Wheeeee! But it's so expensive: AU $15 a kilo! So I just bought two -- which amounted to half a kilo. Darn. But anyway, it's all right. We'll have tinola and manggang hilaw for lunch tomorrow, even if it doesn't seem to match. We're all only too happy to have a little taste of home.

Will send updates again soon! Take care everyone, and keep in touch!

The MP3 Experiment series

At first I thought, this is fun, and innovative! And then I thought about the implications - that size of crowd, the omnipotent voice giving instructions, group conformity, even to an extent, hypnosis. What else could a seemingly innocent mp3 recording have people do?

Your thoughts would be welcome. Am I prude, or paranoid?

The First Four Weeks

One month ago today I landed in Adelaide, South Australia. It's kind of staggering I've been away from Manila this long. The only other time was when I went on my honeymoon and was abroad for three weeks.

I'm missing the familiar faces and voices of friends and family. I've come to realize how much we take for granted the fact that these people in our lives are around, how they form the cozy security blanket on our subconscious. We know they'll always be there, at a moment's notice, a text or phone call away, even a taxi ride away. But here, I felt that sense of security fall away. I quickly realized that, apart from my husband, no one else in Australia knew or cared that it was my birthday. And that made me miss home, reminding me of all the to-do's attached to it: meeting up with friends and family for birthday dinners or just hanging out together. Even though I laud the internet for its ability to connect people instantly, nothing beats physical proximity: the hugs, the kisses, the laughs. Good thing the hubby gave me more than the normal share on my day. Coupled with all the birthday greetings from everyone I've been missing, I did feel the love blanket warm me against the cold. :)

Now that a new year has begun for me, I plan to make the most of it. Everyday, there's something to look forward to, not least of which is making a trip to the Adelaide Central Market. We live about 60 steps away from the market, and it's glorious! Fresh fruit and veg everywhere; freshly ground coffee beans, a specialty mushroom shop, meats and sausages booths at almost each corner, cheese stalls, Asian foods, confectioneries that blow the mind: you name it, they have it. Well, nearly everything short of a pet shop, haha. They say there are over 250 stalls here, from those selling the raw materials to those selling them cooked and prepared. I love the market because it's clean, and surprisingly, smells sweet! Even if there are more than four large seafood shops, it doesn't smell. There are no fish guts on the floor, no ice spilling to make the paths slippery.

I promise that almost every time I enter the place, I get disoriented. My brain argues with itself whether to browse the fruit stands or go and get a freshly-ground coffee fix. Even though I have a list of things to buy, and my shopping should only take 15 minutes, I usually end up browsing the stalls for nearly 40 minutes!

People here are friendly, always ready to chat you up and help you choose what you need for your dishes. One thing I noticed about them: when you give them your items, and they tell you how much you owe, they always append a "thanks" or "thank you", even before you pay up. And when you do, they thank you again. "That'll be 5.50, thanks!" I find it charming, and I don't know why. Maybe I'm charmed by over-politeness, haha.

I've had to learn how to adjust my speech a little so that they'd understand my English. Most notably, the way words with "a" sound in words like day have to be pronounced as "ie". So "day" is pronounced "die." Words that end in "o" (no, hello, so) are pronounced as if there's a "y" and an "r" at the end. Hence, "noyr," "Helloyr," etc. Most sentences also end on a high intonation, as if you're asking a question. It's fun actually; in fact it's like learning a new language that but one that's extremely familiar. (Is that possible at all? :)) So if I was shopping at the Market, I might say something like, "Helloyr, oyd loyk a half kiloyr uv the chickin brist plyse. Thanks."

Other things that have happened: I finally got my own ATM card! I regard this as an identity-asserting event. It gives me mobility and *ahem* purchasing power. It was rather easy to open an account -- all they needed was my passport. They filled out the forms for me in fact, took time to explain everything to me, changed my dollars at no extra charge and then said my card will be in the mail in a week. Compare this opening a bank account in BDO or any other local bank. What's with the application form in triplicate, two valid IDs and signature samples? Here, all I need to transact with a teller is a secret password, and I am authenticated.

Other things I acquired: my own tax number. This will be important when I finally find work. It was extremely easy: all I had to do was log on to the Australia Tax Office website, answer some questions (especially about my work rights/permits) and voila! My tax number was mailed to me in 8 days. No need to queue up at some faraway government office. No need to bring my birth and marriage certificates, no processing fees to pay, no bureaucracy. And I'm not even a permanent resident.

One of the best things I've done so far: become a member of the public library. It's such a sanctuary. All you need is to fill out a form, and hey presto! you've got your library card. No mess, no fuss, and best of all it's free! You can search their collections online, reserve items from other public libraries in the city, and they can bring it to your home (for a minimum charge) or to the nearest library of your choice for you to pick up. Again, for free. If I wanted to borrow a book right then, I'd scan my library card on a computer, put the items I want on a platform, wait for the beep and a "receipt" comes out of the little machine. I can borrow thirty items at one time! Fabulous! I can loan DVDs, CDs, books. I have five books with me now in fact. And anytime, I can go to the library and use the internet. For free. Oh happiness!

Traveling in Adelaide is pretty accessible as well. The trams are a treat to take because they're pretty fast and incredibly convenient. And clean. Travel from one end of the city center to the other is free in fact, and this passes through the main finance, entertainment, government and university districts. Bus routes, meanwhile, are categorized by zone, which are then assigned numbers. Pick up points are clearly defined, as well as which bus numbers ply which routes. All you have to know are the bus and stop numbers and the time table, which are supplied for free by the city's information center. One can also get tickets here, and consult with the attendants as well, who are all super friendly.

For instance, I had to go to a place outside the city center and needed to take the bus. I went to the info center, and asked the attendant which bus number to take. He pointed these out to me, gave me time tables and directed me to the bus stop across the street. So I took bus number 113 from stop V2 on my way to 103 South Road, Thebarton.

And what was I going to do there? Well, my resume had been shortlisted for a part-time job I applied for. It was exciting actually. I took the bus by myself and had a sort of info-day about the job and the company. It was my first time to actually be in a long, involved conversation with an Australian. The manager's name was Rohan and he was talking about their need for sales and marketing reps. I tried to keep up with his accent and his energy. It took a tenth of a second for some words to register, especially their slang. It didn't help that they were a sports company too, because there was some jargon I just didn't understand. But it's all good. Though I decided the job really wasn't for me, it was good "practice" for the one I know I will eventually get.

The job will be invaluable because it will allow me to pay for even a short course here -- I'm hoping to take something in media, communications or basic programming. It will add to skills and knowledge I already have, but it will also give me a chance to gain some "official" experience here. The books from the library are keeping me company for now, in terms of learning. So I have a lot of reading material to go through (I'm also still finishing another academic paper I was asked to improve before I left Manila). I'm observing the content and production processes of the Australian media. Their commercials are pretty funny, and they range from the campy, amateurish concepts that are unabashedly hard sell to those that are so clever you wished you had thought about it first. But all that's for another post.

I am still sending out my resume, and am excited about getting some work experience here. It will also help augment the "household budget," and help us buy more stuff at the Central Market. And maybe at the mall. Or IKEA. Yehesss, IKEA.

Okay! I think I've droned on long enough. Will be posting more photos and entries soon. Oh and yes, it is winter already. We're experiencing 10-degree evenings already so we have to bundle ourselves up. Like I am now, hehe: 6 layers on top and two below: we've had to buy more thermals already. It's so tempting to sleep in all day, but hey, there's so much to experience so you just have to get up. I guess this is how a hibernating bear feels. At least they get to sleep without any issues. Me, I need my coffee! hahha.

Hope everyone is well, and staying healthy. We're missing everyone and we'd love to hear from you too. Til next post! Ciao!

A belated birthday post

I just had to document the day, even though this entry gets posted two days after.

I've always wanted to celebrate a birthday in a different country. This year I got to do it! It wasn't anything grand. It was enough that I got to spend the whole day with my husband and empower myself in an unfamiliar place by "acquiring" an identity: on this day, I was able to withdraw money from my bank. I also became a member of the public library: I got my very own library card, was able to check out a few items, and reserve another bunch!

It was really more symbolic than anything else. I guess it was my way of asserting my existence. Away from the familiar, devoid of the usual, taken-for-granted security among family and friends, this was my way of conquering the impending loneliness and homesickness, which was threatening to take over the day before. In Manila, one would dread responding to text and birthday greetings for the sheer number of them coming in (that day I received lots of text messages and FB greetings from people who mattered to me); or, we'd try to escape groups of people who we think might be expecting you to throw a little party with a box pizza or a bucket of chicken.

Here, I was fascinated to realize that, no one I knew was going to go through the trouble of asking, kelan ang kainan at inuman? I wouldn't bump into anyone in the street who would remember it was my birthday. A couple of times I was hoping the librarians would put two and two together and realize that my birth date on my library application form was the same day as my membership day. I actually fantasized one of them would call out to the people in the library and they'd all jump up and wish me a happy birthday. All I wanted was someone to acknowledge me. But they didn't.

If it wasn't for Benc, I'd be celebrating by myself. Literally. But because I was with him, it was more than enough. He bought a bottle of wine, cheese, and grapes and we stayed up and drank at 12 midnight on May 14. In the afternoon we had brunch of yummy yiros and chips at the Central Market, then watched Angels and Demons, talked about life over a cup of coffee and handfuls of chocolate-covered fruits and nuts, then snuggled against the settling cold. It was a good day, and I claimed it. It was a way of reinforcing my presence for another year and toasting a previous one well-spent.

A Wicked Week in Melbourne: Part 1

To celebrate Benc's week off from a grueling first semester at Uni, we decided to go on a budget trip to Melbourne. We booked return tickets on Virgin Blue for a total of AU$ 300 all together; booked a double room at a new boutique hotel (AU$ 270 for 3 nights!) and eat at the most affordable places in the city (read: Greek diners, Chinese restaurants, and groceries from Coles Express).

We had both visited Melbourne separately before, and this was the first time we were going there together. We were excited about visiting the familiar sights and eating at the cheap but delicious delis scattered all over the metropolis. Most of all, we were excited about the Great Ocean Road tour, which neither of us had taken before, and catching a performance of Wicked. A jam-packed week for sure!

We arrived in Melbourne before ten am on Monday. We took the airport bus to the city where we got off at the Southern Cross terminal. What luck! Our hotel was just less than ten minutes' walk from the station! That's a lot of savings right away on transportation. :)

We deposited our things and then booked a Great Ocean Road tour for the next morning. We were to be at the pick up point at 7.30 am. And the pick up point was a stone's throw, again, from our hotel! Thank goodness for that too, because if we had been billeted anywhere farther, we'd have to wake up earlier, and that meant stepping out into really cold weather.

After booking our seats, we hopped on the City Circle Tram, got off at one of the main streets and started exploring. I think we explored too much though because we slowly got lost. We started to get confused with the names and layout of the city, looking for landmarks that had disappeared, and becoming disoriented from the new buildings that suddenly sprang up all over. So much had changed...and why shouldn't the city change. There seemed to be more people, and they seemed to be hurrying off to everywhere more now than I could remember. I guess I expected too much: I was expecting to experience the same artsy, laid-back impression I took with me the last time. Melbourne is so much more cosmopolitan now. There are new, bigger buildings, cramped roads and sidewalks, more trash. Oh well, the price of progress.

But Melbourne is still a cool place. I'm sure it's still less harried than Sydney. I still wouldn't mind returning. There were a few places I failed to visit: the Arcade at Bourke street and the Fitzroy Gardens. We ran out of time because we were running around in circles. If only we had just bothered to consult a map. It's partly my fault: nagmamarunong kasi eh, at nagfi-feeling na local. Ayan tuloy, pinaltos sa bagong bili na sapatos. To appease my injured ego, I pigged out on a bowl of chips that were too expensive: AU$ 5.50! Sigh, I'll let it go. After all, tomorrow is another day.

The Great Ocean Road Tour

We got up at around 6.00 am to get ready and walk to the meeting place where our tour bus was to pick us up for our Great Ocean Road tour. We got to the pick up point on time, braving the 12-degree morning winds -- to most of those who live in the northern hemisphere, this doesn't seem like such a big deal. But to a tropical weather girl, it's like swimming in a vat of ice cubes.

Our driver was Bernie, a jolly, rolly-polly man with white hair and a long beard, and hearty laugh. Easily reminded me of Santa Claus, only he was in shorts and hiking boots, and spewed his acerbic wit every time he took the microphone to comment on places of interest during our drive. ("Most of the roads in Melbourne were named after the past kings of England. It's a wonder really that we have a main road named Charles. Says something, doesn't it?") We were a receptive audience, Benc, myself and thirteen other passengers. It was a mixed group too: Oz students, a Malaysian couple whom we chatted with a lot, four charming ladies from Queensland on an adventure of their own, an Argentinian couple (Bernie called them "the Argies"), a Swedish student on 5-week break from uni and a barkada of Indian kids. Altogether we made up Bus no. 2 on The Great Ocean Road tour, hehe.

The Great Ocean Road was built by 3000 World War 1 service men as a tribute to their fallen comrades. They began surveying in 1918 and completed the road in 1932. It stretches from Torquay, on the Western coast of Melbourne to the outer areas of Warnambool, which is half the way back to Adelaide, South Australia if you decide to drive.

It took us two hours to get to our first stop: Bells Beach. This was the eastern tip of the Otway coast that would lead us to the great natural stone formations. It was here where we had our morning tea and bickies (biscuits, that is) and watched as surfers surged through to the ice cold surf. (1800 miles thataway, said Bernie pointing to the horizon in front of him, is Antartica). I envied the dudes not.

After twenty minutes we hopped on the bus again and made our way down to the Split Point Lighthouse on Airey's Inlet, one of two critical lighthouses on the Melbourne coast. Photo ops were in order, because not only was it well preserved and being used today, the surrounding scenery was beautiful as well. The Australians had signs that indicated they were re-greening these parts, and urged us to take care when going up and down the steps to the viewing deck.

We had several more stops along the Otway coast. One would think, oh another tourist destination! But I had the suspicion that it was to stretch our legs and have our blood circulate. I remember distinctly that on a long drive from Melbourne to Sydney about eight years ago, there were pit stops every 1.5 to 2 hours. They took safe driving very seriously, and rest and comfort contributed to that. This is why they encouraged drivers and passengers to get out and stretch. While doing so they could take in some nice scenery too.

Some of additional stops included a visit to a small conservation area where we saw koalas in the wild. We could see them clinging to the branches lazily as they chewed on eucalyptus leaves. I didn't get to hold them though, but that was okay. I'd probably smuggle one into my backpack if I did. Some kookaburas and cardinals were flitting about on the ground and the lower tree branches. It was a challenge snapping photos of the kookaburas though, because they were naturally afraid of humans. They'd let out a squawk and then scamper away whenever we got too close.

We also made a short stop at a moderate rainforest -- well a section of it anyway. Here Bernie showed us some of the plants endemic to Australia, and preached about ecology and caring about the environment (it's important to get the message out to the kids, because they listen. Adults are useless.) Again, it was a gentle twenty minute trek, both to stretch our legs and keep our blood circulating. Ingenious, if you ask me.

The rest of our journey wound on through extremely twisty roads along the coast. The surf would swell in some parts, eliciting moderate gasps from us passengers. It was so easy to notice how clean and well-kept the beaches were. Villages and resorts were built along some parts of the coast but with the way they seemed properly zoned, the beaches remained pristine. Makes one wish there was more political will in regulating establishments on Boracay.

We stopped for lunch of ham and cheese sandwiches. But I caved and bought a box of chips for AU$ 5! Luxury item, I know, but it was cold and I needed something warm in my tummy. We piled into the bus again 30 minutes later and this time, Bernie said it would take us twenty minutes to get to Port Campbell where the Twelve Apostles are. These are limestone rock stacks carved from the cliffs of the coast. Most articles I've read about the Twelve Apostles say they were magnificent, majestic and breathtaking. I was looking forward to adding some adjectives myself.

When we finally arrived at the site, there were other tour buses and hundreds of tourists milling about as well. No worries, I thought, we'd all get our chance for photo ops. One of the things I appreciated about the tourist places during this tour was that the access paths were well planned: from the drop off points, to the parking to the cemented foot paths and safety railings. Some tourist spots I've been to in other countries just required the driver to drop you off anywhere and you were left to your own devices on how to appreciate the place, even to the point of being run over by another tour bus. Here, because you knew you were safe, and you knew you had proper access in an out of the place, you could appreciate the experience more.

Appreciation, of course was an understatement, upon seeing the Twelve Apostles. They were absolutely impressive! Massive rock stacks stood proudly along the shoreline, as if emerging from the treacherous waters of the South Ocean. I could hear the surf from several meters away but what greeted you first were the orange hues of these natural wonders. The Twelve Apostles were originally called the Sow and the Piglets but it was changed in the early 20th Century to the 12 Apostles. According to their website, there are actually 13 of these rock stacks, but only 9 were visible from the platforms where we tourists were. It didn't matter really: the fact that I was there seeing all 9 with my own eyes was history-making enough for me.

After seeing the Twelve Apostles, we made our way to the Loch Ard Gorge. This area is of particular interest because it was the site of one of the most prominent shipwrecks in Australia in the 19th century. Immigrants from Ireland and England on the ship Loch Ard, were killed when their ship hit the gorge in a violent storm. Only two people survived: Tom Pearce and Eva Carmichael. Both of them were 19 years old. The event made the papers, and like all human interest stories, Eva and Tom were the celebrities of that time. Many people actually wished they would end up together but Eva went back to Ireland while Tom settled in Oz. Then as now, audiences will always fantasize about a love team.

We had time to go down to the tiny beach at the bottom of the gorge, and I got to feel the foamy waters. It was ccccooollldddd! The sand had the consistency of polvoron but the color of cinnamon. Fascinating!

After Loch Ard Gorge, we headed to London Bridge. Now this was amazing. It was a natural land bridge, again formed by ocean. Up until 2 decades ago, one could walk onto the bridge from the main land mass and stand on the section that was in the middle of the ocean. Unfortunately, in 1990, a section of the bridge crumbled into the sea. Bernie said two people were caught unaware and were stranded on the ocean side of the bridge! Rescuers, coast guards and police worked for three hours to get the couple to safety. What's funny though, said Bernie, is that the couple, a man and a woman, were actually having an affair, and that day decided to cap off their date at the London Bridge. As bad luck would have it, they were found out without them having to admit to anyone what they were doing there together. Both of them were married to different people at the time. Great gossip on the Great Ocean Road!

Our trip ended at the Blowhole, but Benc and I didn't go down to the viewing deck anymore. We were tired, and we wanted to make up for the three times we were last on the bus. Our departure time from different stops were held up because we were late. Though our tourmates and Bernie were all nice to us about it (one of the passengers, an old lady from Queensland whom we helped at the rainforest when she was feeling short of breath made Bernie wait for us) we didn't want to leave them with the impression that Pinoys were careless with time. Although, geez, Filipino time prevails somehow even when you're in a different country.

Needless to say, we succeeded in boarding the bus on time at our next stops and didn't get left behind. It took us another three hours to drive back to Melbourne. We got to the city at around 9.30 pm, tired, slightly hungry, cold but otherwise satisfied with our adventure. I am always inspired by moments when I am able to live out experiences that were hitherto confined to magazine articles and books. Places and events come to life, and I revel in the heartbeats that confirm my existence at that very second, in that very spot, soaking up the sights, sounds and smells that surround me. It's extremely invigorating, and I highly recommend the experience -- whether it be on the Great Ocean Road, or any adventure that your feet and spirit are itching to take.