42 Days since Adelaide

and I'm still counting. Notice how the posts dwindled close to October-November. Life became real in Adelaide, and though we knew we were due back in Manila, we couldn't quite shake off the fact that Adelaide was feeling more like home.

Now that I'm back in Manila, the adjustment hasn't been easy.

I'm still missing the easy life we had, the accessibility of most places, the efficiency of most services; the ease of travel, the freshness of the food, the friendly smiles and whole-hearted "G'days" and the relative quiet in my soul as I walked around the little city for hours and hours. The only thing that could stop me was a good cup of coffee. Which was pretty much available everywhere.

Now I sit at a coffee shop and find myself reminiscing again. It's sad but also sweet, to miss a place that obviously goes on without you. I long to be there, breathe the air, take my time and revel in the stillness of my spirit. It's a long way away, but the fondness will always remain. One day, I'll sit in my favorite coffee shop again, sipping a mocha, watching the trams roll by and think: how did I ever think I could leave?

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.