The tempest

The wind is not merely whistling outside my window. It is howling, lashing, whipping everything in sight. I can hear and feel the windows rattling. The trees, their branches gnarled over time, taking the brunt of typhoon Mina.

It was a quiet week or so. The sun was up, even though there were occasional rains. It was a welcome respite from several weeks of non-stop rains, suspended classes due to flooding and every manner of discomfort associated with the rainy season.

A long weekend is upon us. National Heroes Day on Monday and the end of Ramadan, out of respect for our Muslim brothers, on Tuesday. Many have made plans but Mina seems out to spoil them. Just like a woman. A real tempest.

She jolts us with her rains, as they fall in torrents. And makes us shudder with the wind when they blow the windows shut. An hour or two of quiet, then here she comes again. It was dark at 8 am. It still is at 4 pm. Yet, it is a blessing to be in the comfort of hearth and home, with loved ones close by.

Ample warning had been given to those whose homes are in Mina’s path. She has wreaked havoc, no doubt, but if they paid heed the people will be safe. Destruction and loss are hard to fathom, but things can be replaced. Lives cannot. I pray there will be little or no casualties in Mina’s wake.

A storm like Mina leaves you cold. It is not merely a draft that makes you seek warmth. It is the loss of sunshine. It is watching rain pelt the ground and feel the splatters even from afar. It is the thought that someone, somewhere is feeling more than just cold.

How do you battle nature? When she lets out her wrath? You don’t. You can’t. You just have to stand your ground and be strong. You may be hurled by the wind, and burnt by the sun’s rays. But if you stand firm knowing you are loved and love in return, the tempest cannot break you.

 

 

 

Thank you, Chit…

What was normally a five-minute drive to the hospital took me at least 30 minutes. And while I was getting worried (my task was to deliver food to my father confined at a hospital), for some reason I did not fume, drum my fingers on the steering wheel or engage in any other impatient gestures because of the situation.

Two hours later I got a call from a friend, whose voice was muffled and choked. There was an accident along Ayala TechnoHub earlier. A bus had rammed a cab. The passenger was pinned to death. The victim was our dear friend, Chit Estella.

I turned cold and clammy at the realization. By the time I was right in front of the scene, the ambulance was still there. So Chit was still there. The cab looked fine in front. I never got to see the rear of the cab because traffic was bad enough and no one was directing the chaos. My brother-in-law would later tell me it was a crumpled heap in the back and survival was impossible.

Chit was on her way to meet high school friends at TechnoHub. She had several groups of friends and getting together even for just a cup of coffee was something she liked to do on a regular basis. We were set to meet this week because another friend, based in Canada, was in town.

She sent me a text message the day before. Because I was drained from two weeks of hospital watch, I was unable to reply, still figuring out how to work the get together in. Apart from the shock of the news about her death, that oversight was like ice dowsed on me.

Come to think of it, she isn’t usually the one organizing these get togethers, except if she’s doing the inviting herself. Her message was for two people specifically. And we both never got to talk to her one last time.

Sleep was hard to come by that night. Even when I was exhausted and my eyes were so heavy from fatigue. I kept seeing images of the accident scene. I kept seeing Chit’s face. Remembering some outing we had. I would fall asleep, then wake up every 15 minutes. It was me coping with grief.

She was cremated yesterday. The ceremony was beautiful. Poignant but nothing overly dramatic. Chit would not have wanted it. In fact, she had wished there was to be no vigil for her. The simple, fuss-free person that she was, I understand the request that people would not ogle her in such a state. But she was beautiful. And everyone said so. Had we not known the cause of her demise, you would never think she died in such tragic circumstances.

Chit was in peace. There was a serenity in her face that told you she is in a better place. And the awareness raised by what happened to her is perhaps purpose enough to make sense of her passing and our loss.

I will always remember the 200 peso cup of civet coffee that four of us shared almost a year ago. We had vowed to get together again, this time one cup for each of us. I know Chit will join us then. And perhaps she would have already enjoyed her cup (a full mug, not a demitasse that is usually served) where she is now. FREE of charge.

Chit was always prim and proper. She could talk about anything under the sun. But she loved the usual “tsismis,” be it showbiz, politics or just about regular folks. Just to be in the know. And to learn a thing or two. And to better guide her in how she lived her life.

I will miss her laughter, even the ones at her own expense. I will miss those times of trying out food wherever, followed by dessert or coffee. Most of the time, we would split our bill, and she was our calculator… mentally adding up each one’s tab. She was very thorough and exact. She was as good with words as she was with numbers.

But more than all that, she was just a wonderful person to be with. And I thank God for the privilege of knowing her, sharing precious moments with her and learning how to live a better life from her. It was a blessing to have been good friends with Chit Estella.

I don’t want to say goodbye. Because Chit will always be with us in spirit. Coffee later?

 

Tickling the senses

I should have been more mindful of the time when it first hit me.

It was like a switch had been turned on to release the scent of flowers, which is now permeating the whole house. And it is 11 o’clock in the evening.

The fragrance is so hard to ignore and I was finally tempted to go outside and check the source.

This morning I noticed so many buds on the kamuning tree by the gate so it was just a matter of time when they bloomed.

The time was apparently tonight.

Armed with a flashlight, I trained it on the tree and had to gasp at the sight. The tree was filled with kamuning flowers in clusters of white, trying valiantly to shine in the dark. It was made more magical by the moon, almost full, shining over it.

It was a magnificent sight. An inspiring one. And a vision that made me smile and sigh and give thanks.

The past two weeks have been helter skelter for me. And I am just so grateful to be able to enjoy this moment when I finally hit my stride again.

Friday was a sorrowful shocker and I have yet to find the words to express the grief that I have been feeling. Perhaps, tomorrow will be the right time.

But tonight, I am just amazed that I can be kept company by tiny white flowers that have come in full force not only to tickle my senses but to shake me awake and to enjoy life.

I look forward to greeting a new day with the sunshine streaming inside the window, the scent of flowers wafting through the window and the sight of hundreds of tiny petals clumped together in beauty.

 

The Supers in this life

No, I don’t mean Superman. At least not the guy from Krypton, able to leap tall buildings in a single bound, who soars like bird or a plane (and wears his red briefs over his blue tights 🙂 ). But there are a lot of super people out there, who don’t let difficult circumstances or trials hinder them in living their life to the fullest and in the most noble of ways.

I am referring to last night’s Supermoon. And this afternoon’s amazing sunset that qualifies it to be a Super Sun!

That's the moon of February... not super but awesome nevertheless!

The night before last, I caught Luna, bigger than usual as it prepared to become the Supermoon. It was a perfect orb, radiant and a comforting presence. It caught me as I turned to head inside the house. When you see a spectacle that mesmerizes you, no matter how briefly, you are filled with wonder because it is a testament of God’s love and faithfulness.

Last night, I made it a point to catch her again. Alas, the sky was wrapped in grey, cottony clouds that hid Luna from view. Yet, I saw her silhouette and it was amazing because its radiance was not coming from the orb itself. Instead, it was as if a spotlight were trained on it from the right.

I never really managed to see it in full view, minus the clouds. The hour was getting late. And I knew in my heart she was there, watching over me. Illuminating the night sky as only she can… as only God can.

Driving home from church 30 minutes ago, I was struck by this great orange ball yonder. It was fiery. It was huge. I was magnificent. I had not seen a sunset as resplendent as that in a long time. No, I never really saw it in full clear view because there were trees on its path. But the hues — red, orange, yellow — made sure you could not miss it, if you cared enough to “see”.

It was a Super Sun to me. It was a reminder of how beautiful life can be even when it is far from fair, or perfect, or flawless. Even when everyday is a challenge you wish you could be spared from.

It is a testament that God will show us the grandeur of His love even when we see life in blacks and grays.. We just have to keep the faith. And believe. And love in the way He keeps showing us how. Because there is no one more Super in this life than Him who loves us endlessly, generously and mercifully.

 

 

Wealth or poverty: your choice

How our lives turn out depend a lot on the choices we make. Yes, I certainly believe in God’s hand and I know there are certain things beyond our control if He wills it. But a lot of the time, the Lord leads us to opportunities that we simply ignore or take for granted. And so while our lives could have improved or made a turn for the better, we end up sighing, sulking or frustrated that things have not changed.

Poverty is a choice. And I may be criticized for saying it. But when you really think about this, it is true. Many people remain poor because they think that’s what they’re meant to be the rest of their lives.

Instead of finding ways to make a decent living, they rely on dole outs. When given opportunities, they want the quick way to make a buck. They think it is beneath them to learn. To study. They are content with their lives, even when in truth they have every chance of doing better.

Yet, it is these very people who are after the latest fashion or gadgets like cellphones. It is they who can sit around watching teleseryes the whole day or gossip about their neighbors.  It is they who will line up for hours hoping to be part of a television program that gives away money to their audience. But it is a hardship to find work or at least a means to earn and provide for their needs, or their families.

I attended a workshop on mushroom growing. I am realizing the potential for it. There are only few mushroom growers in the Philippines so most of the users like restaurant owners have to import their supplies.  If you can allot a small space and tend to mushrooms, not only will you be able to supplement your income, you will also have your own source of healthy food.

I learned from the AANI facilitator, Tess Jose, about her efforts to spread mushroom cultivation in Pangasinan where she’s from. And I sensed the frustration when she related how small folks would give up on it after a time when they see it isn’t going to pull them out of poverty overnight.

And they have everything they need, provided by Tess. All they really have to do is take care of the mushrooms, water them, and harvest them every three or four days.

I can’t understand why they don’t see the potential in this venture. And why they can’t appreciate the efforts of people like Tess to help them improve their lives.  But the woman perseveres and continues to hope she will finally come across a community who will take this seriously enough to make it grow and give them the income that they so need. And I so, so admire her.

A month ago, our maid’s daughter took the boat from their native Romblon to work here in Manila. She had convinced her mother about her desire to work for two reasons: she wanted to earn so she can have her teeth fixed, and she wanted to help her younger siblings who were still studying.

Fortunately, a friend of my brother-in-law was looking for a helper in their eatery. Perfect opportunity. Even before the day was over, the girl is texting her mother. She can’t do it. There were too many dishes to be done. Her back was aching. And she was quitting! My goodness!

If I was really bent on working to earn a living, then I’m going to stick it out there, especially knowing I was referred by someone. And I would challenge myself to do a good job, no matter how difficult the situation. And her employers weren’t even monsters but very, very nice and understanding people who were willing to cut her some slack till she got the hang of the work.

But na-uhh… she was done. No amount of explaining, convincing, cajoling and even threats could make her try it out even for a week to test her mettle.

This morning, our maid sent her back home. With nothing. I would be so ashamed at my behavior I would have found some other kind of job so I could at least earn my boat fare. Maybe, I would have found a better opportunity. What a waste…  of time, effort and chances.

So, I’m thinking did people think work here in Manila was a breeze? Or a walk in the park? That it would not be back-breaking and gut-wrenching at times? If you’re serious about making something of your life, or at least earning your keep because you’re strong and have talents, then you’re going to make the most of the opportunities that come your way.

And I really don’t know of jobs that are legal and worthwhile that won’t require you to sweat or move your butt if you really want to make good in your life. Every hardship is experience that makes you better, stronger, and more determined to achieve your goals.

Otherwise, you’re really just hoping that manna will fall from heaven and your life will change forever. In that case, to remain POOR is your choice.

In the same manner, I know of people who really came from difficult circumstances but did not let these hamper the fulfillment of their dreams for a better life.  They wanted to be wealthy and did everything possible to realize that goal.  They made a choice to want a good life and worked hard to earn it.

It is a sad thought that one reason why many Filipinos remain poor is because they want to be that way. They always blame tough luck for their plight without realizing they refuse to want to live better through their own blood, sweat and tears.

So, have you made a choice?