by rossanahead | Jun 11, 2011 | career, children, family, Mari-an Santos, woman
By Mari-An Santos
Whenever I go to Hong Kong, it feels so familiar. On the MRT and at the stores, I inevitably encounter a fellow Filipino. It could be the bakeshop attendant, the security guard, or the countless au pairs taking their wards home. A lot of them, recognizing a countryman, will ask, “When did you arrive?” It felt good to be acknowledged.
I am struck by how much my fellow countrymen have to sacrifice in order to provide for their families back home. On Sundays, they congregate at the Central District, where they lay out mats and have picnics with their friends. They spend the entire day catching up with each other’s lives as well as those of their loved ones back home.
One particular scene has stayed with me all these years. After Sunday Mass, a group of women huddled around one, who was distributing all sorts of goodies to her friends. I gathered that she had just arrived from the Philippines. One of her friends started looking at the pictures in a digital camera. She was showing her friends her children, exclaiming, “Oh, how he’s grown!” “Look at what she is wearing!” I was moved to tears. Here was a mother who was taking care of a child not her own while her children were growing up without her.
Walking through the groups, it was as if they were at Luneta Park on a Sunday. Some were getting a haircut, some pedicures, others were reading gossip magazines, others sharing recipes. Whether Ilocano, Tagalog, or Bisaya, their collective chatter made a cheerful sound.
We have given them the generous monicker “Bagong Bayani.” But I suspect that given a chance, they would rather be fathers and mothers to their own children, and husbands and wives to their spouses than rays of hope to an entire country from across the sea.
by rossanahead | Jun 9, 2011 | woman
By Jane Santos Guinto
Serendipity is my second favorite word.
It’s a big word for such a simple idea—happy accidents. I came to embrace it after watching the 2001 movie in which John Cusack and Kate Beckinsale’s characters find and re-find each other through beautifully spontaneous and frustratingly romantic accidents.
Each ‘real-life’ day can either be a series of harassing hassles or a bunch of serene serendipities. Driving in Metro Manila’s horrendous traffic, for instance, can either be perpetual hardship or just prolonged lessons on semi-devilishly defensive uniquely Pinoy driving. For those who are religious (a.k.a. spiritual), you can use the agonizing commute as extra prayer time.
To help me see events as happy accidents instead of coincidental curses, I borrow the words of a wise believer:
Serenity Prayer
God grant me the serenity
to accept the things I cannot change;
courage to change the things I can;
and wisdom to know the difference.
Living one day at a time;
Enjoying one moment at a time;
Accepting hardships as the pathway to peace;
Taking, as He did, this sinful world
as it is, not as I would have it;
Trusting that He will make all things right
if I surrender to His Will;
That I may be reasonably happy in this life
and supremely happy with Him
Forever in the next.
Amen.
—Reinhold Niebuhr
May life be a series of satisfying, soulful serendipities for us all!
by rossanahead | Jun 7, 2011 | children, family, parenting, Ruth M. Floresca, woman
By Ruth Manimtim-Floresca
It was humid last night and my skin felt sticky. Hubby opted to spread a mattress on the living room floor to escape the heat from our bedroom. As I remained in bed to keep an eye on our child with special needs, who was watching TV, my youngest son jumped on the bed and snuggled against me.
“It’s hot anak, we’re both going to sweat more if you hug me like that,” I admonished.
My 12-year-old, the one who’s the smartest aleck of all my sons, didn’t let go. Instead, he softly replied, “You know Mom, when I’m all grown up and working in a faraway place, you won’t get as many chances to have me by your side. By then, we’ll just get to talk and see each other on Skype.” So much for guilt trips; I was the one who got hit, hard.
“Fine,” I said grudgingly, suppressing a smile. When I tried to move a little and get more comfortable, my not-so-little boy tightened his hold and whispered in a singsong voice, “Chance.”
As we watched TV, I said a silent prayer of thanks for having such a sweet boy who has this ability to utter retorts that sound way beyond his years.
Five minutes or so later, my son got up. I guess he also realized he can’t stand the heat. “What about the chance?!” I protested. He smiled his mischievous smile and said, “It will come again tomorrow night.”
Every day, I am constantly amazed at what my kids are capable of, in a good way. I just hope that I remain observant of those precious moments especially the ones that pass by only once. Happily, I got one of those chances last night.
by rossanahead | Jun 4, 2011 | children, family, parenting, Rossana Llenado, woman
By Rossana Llenado
What I like about traveling is that I get to discover so many things. And by that, I don’t just mean all the unique characteristics of a particular destination, but all those charming characteristics that travel brings out in my children.
Last week, we were finally able to take a trip to Korea. We’ve wanted to go for the longest time, but work and my kids’ equally hectic schedule interfered with our plans.
For four glorious days, we found ourselves in the land of kimchi and cherry blossoms. Incheon Airport did not disappoint. One of the most efficient airports in the world, it is state-of-the-art serving some 15 million passengers every year. So efficient is this airport that we were able to get out of there in just 15 minutes! How’s that for a good first impression?
We did a lot of walking during those four days, which wasn’t such a hassle as their sidewalks were not only wide, they were also pretty! The sidewalks were landscaped so there were many flowers and trees and greens, very picturesque.
I am so happy that my kids like the museums and parks more than the malls and amusement parks. The garden outside the National Museum of Korea had all these sculptures and benches. There was also a beautiful playground with exercise equipments all around. We ended up trying all of them. It was fun!
We also visited the six-acre Biwon (Secret Garden), which is located inside the Changdeokgung Palace. It was a magnificent garden filled with woodland paths, lotus ponds, and pleasure pavilions. We just walked and walked and walked, taking in the scenery and the fresh air.
I love it as well that my kids were adventurous when it came time to eat. We ate Korean food every day. We couldn’t get enough of it!
That’s why I love taking my Nicolo, Paolo, Darla, and Meg on trips abroad. They make for the best travel companions because they’re always open to new adventures and experiences. Till the next trip, kiddos!
by rossanahead | Jun 2, 2011 | children, family, Karen Galarpe, parenting, woman
By Karen Galarpe
As I write this, my mom is intently watching a teleserye, squinting through her glasses. At the next commercial break, I know what she’ll do: pick up her crochet kit and resume crocheting something–a bag, a coaster, or a tablecloth–until the teleserye comes back on TV.
Every night, she would do this for as far back as I can remember.
Sometimes I would ask her what crochet project she’s working on. And so she would tell me. But at other times she herself doesn’t know what would come out of it. She’d continue crocheting just the same, much like an abstract artist would continue painting with no idea where it would lead, and be thrilled (or dismayed) at the end result.
I have always wondered why I never took to doing crochet. Just looking at the repetitive motions seems to bore me, and really, I would just rather read, or watch NatGeo or the news.
In the same way, I have always wondered why I never liked mahjong, which my mom has been playing almost every day since I was old enough to go to preschool. I remember playing patintero and tumbang preso at someone’s front yard or backyard while our moms were inside the house, playing their own game.
While my mom follows every teleserye on her favorite TV channel, I can’t stand watching Pinoy drama on TV. After a day of working hard, I really prefer to relax and not delve into the problems of some drama princess on TV.
Clearly, my mom and I are so different.
But we are also so alike.
We both like to eat out, are both morning persons, and like fried rice and salted dried fish for breakfast. We both enjoy sweets and coffee, and like discovering new places. We’re not good swimmers and neither are we good cooks. But we both like Michael Buble, and strongly believe family should always come first.
Some years back, my mom and I would take turns picking up my son from school. Rain or shine, she would be there to make sure my son sees a familiar face at dismissal time on days I’m tied up with work.
Last month, she turned 80. Those years of making sundo from school are long past, with my son in high school and her gait not as strong as before. Her hands may tremble a bit while working on her current crochet project, but she’d continue just the same.
She’s still the same mom I’ve known all these years.
Moms are God’s blessings, don’t you agree?
by rossanahead | May 31, 2011 | career, children, Education, Gina Abuyuan, woman
By Regina Abuyuan
Even as kids, she was clearly the artist among us, even as her sister was equally talented in music, even when I, too, wrote poems and stories and wasn’t so shabby with the paints and charcoals. She seemed to move in a world of her own, unaware of her own beauty and power. Weird? Of course she was weird. But she was also kind and sincere and naïve and all those other things that tend to get one into the saddest kinds of trouble.
I’m talking of my cousin, C, who now goes by another name; the name that now graces her album cover: Kulay by Tricia Garcia. She’s even got a spankin’ new music video of her first single, “Tabing Ilog.” Watch it here.
Tricia is almost my age—way past the prime of other musicians who get their big break while they’re in their 20s, or earlier. It’s not that she didn’t start early enough–for a time she was the lead vocalist of Pretty In Pink, that bubblegum pop group that came up with “Cool Ka Lang” in the early ‘90s. It was that she was held back.
Now, I’m going to stop right here lest I get anyone into trouble, but I will say that one of the most tragic things that can happen to an artist, or one full of God-given talents, is to be held back and suppressed. It doesn’t matter if the suppression was done “for your own good.” It’s like murder to deprive someone of their fullest potential—and to deprive others of experiencing that gift.
For several years, Tricia had to bury her love of song and art to please other people, to fit into their expectations of what she should be and how she should behave. She would have to hide her easels in the closet. She would have to hide who she was, period. It ate into her soul. Whenever we saw each other, I would see that the light had dimmed ever so imperceptibly in her eyes. She would try to justify it, saying it was for the better, but I—wild Water Rat that I am, who would rather die than be caged—would see she was only trying to convince herself.
And then, one day, the unthinkable happened. Tricia broke free.
She confessed to me her biggest fear two Christmases ago, that she might not be able to make it on her own, now that she was past youth, now that she had to start from scratch. What would people say? How would they react?
My reply (which is undoubtedly how the rest of the superwomen on this blog would reply, too): Don’t think of what other people will say. Just forge on. Do what you love. Do what you do best. Their words mean nothing. Your happiness means everything!
Something amazing happens when someone is set free and made to, finally, bask in his true purpose. It’s like the universe comes together, calls upon all its mighty gears and wheels, and everything locks into place. Mere months after Tricia let go, she inked a deal with MCA Universal. Less than a year later, she started recording her album. Around six weeks ago, her album was launched. Last week, this video was released.
When my daughter—or my sons, for that matter—get married, or have their first sweethearts, I’d like to direct them to this lesson learned from their Auntie Tricia: Stay true to yourself. Don’t let anyone tell you who or how you should be. Don’t allow your dreams to die. And if you’ve really got some gold inside you, it will shine, even if it’s been kept in darkness for years.
