by rossanahead | Oct 9, 2011 | Ruth M. Floresca, woman
By Ruth Manimtim-Floresca
I watched “Love, Loss, and What I Wore”, an off-Broadway show, when it was staged a couple of months
ago here in Manila. It’s about the stories of different women and how they lived their lives. Many ladies
in the audience identified with almost all the topics but one, in particular, made me laugh out loud
because it totally applies to me.
The segment was about bags and how they seem to become dark, terrible, gnawing holes you have to
put your hand deep inside of just to find what you are looking for. I am one of those women who prefer
using big bags because we seem to “need” a lot of things to bring with us whenever we’re on the go.
And so, for such a long time, I keep finding myself digging (and wasting a lot of time) inside my big bags
looking for a ringing cell phone, my folding umbrella when it suddenly rains, or my coin purse when I
have to pay jeepney fare. I tried switching to smaller bags for a while but it was frustrating to leave stuff
behind and realize later that I should have brought them along in the first place. So I went back to using
big bags … and digging for stuff.
For weeks, I’ve passed by a bag organizer store in the mall where I frequently shop for groceries. I
avoided browsing the displays because I was doubtful if I really, really need one. Besides, I was watching
my budget and was mindful of my “needs” and “wants” lists.
But last weekend, I finally gave in. I saw a design that caught my eye so I went closer to the shelves
and looked. The bag organizer I liked has a wide bottom, numerous pockets of different sizes stitched
all around both inside and outside the bag, and a sturdy handle which would make it easy to transfer
everything to another bag.
After some hesitation, I bought it. When my husband saw me unwrapping it later, I heard the usual,
exasperated question, “What’s that this time?” I explained how the bag works and proceeded to
transfer all the contents of my big bag into the organizer’s large and small compartments.
When I finished, even I was amazed how neat everything looked inside my big bag. Now, a few days
since I started using the organizer, I found that I don’t spend a lot of time anymore looking for objects
inside my bag because I could clearly where each item is and immediately zero in on the one I want to
get.
I commend whoever thought of making this useful bag inside a bag. I’d readily bet it’s a lady. After all,
only a woman would understand what other women go through and the organizer bag is definitely
something a lot of other ladies I know need. Necessity is truly the mother of invention!
by rossanahead | Oct 6, 2011 | environment
By Romelda C. Ascutia
Holding a dog leash in one hand and a pooper scooper in the other, I took our pet dog for his usual nightly exercise. I happened to look up as we were walking along the neighborhood and saw a small circle of LEDs on the awning of one of the houses.
Curious, I inched closer to try and make it out, then recognized what it was: a closed-circuit television (CCTV) camera. I suddenly felt self-conscious staring up at it, fearing someone was staring back at me, and moved on quickly.
These CCTV systems are an amazing invention. They have granted us an almost godlike omnipresence. It used to be that you wonder what people were doing when no one was looking. Now you can find out discreetly. It used to be a comforting thought knowing that no one was around. Now you wonder if someone is watching your every move when you think you are alone.
I sometimes look up while shopping at the grocery store and try to guess where the security cameras are. But the thing is, these gadgets can be practically invisible. It can be hidden inside innocuous-looking clocks, or behind bland walls or pseudo mirrors.
On one hand, the advent of surveillance cameras is a good thing. They help the police catch criminals by identifying faces or replaying what actually transpired when no witnesses were around—or want to come out. In the news, you see instances of how invaluable these CCTV cameras are. Recently a couple of government employees were caught opening a package sent via post to pilfer the money hidden inside a cell phone.
CCTV monitors lay bare the things that are done under a veil of covertness. It shows how a salisi gang fleeces a distracted victim in an Internet shop, how a child is kidnapped in a busy mall, or how a caregiver routinely slaps and kicks the elderly ward he is caring for at home.
On the other hand, the news images are disturbing, shocking. You see Death choke, stab, or shoot someone in grainy images that are not in a movie but in real life. The victim will not stand up after he has been gunned down. The blood on the floor is not ketchup. Will this make us even more inured to the violence and mayhem around us?
The use of CCTV cameras is fast becoming a necessity. I myself am thinking of installing one outside our house after the spate of akyat bahay incidents in our subdivision. But I fear their use is open to abuse and wish it is more closely regulated.
For good or bad, it seems we’ve entered the domain of George Orwell’s Big Brother. Fast becoming a thing of the past are the precious days of privacy and anonymity. So watch your back.
by rossanahead | Oct 4, 2011 | parenting, woman
By Julie Javellana-Santos
Without my daughter, the 40-minute commute to work seemed longer than usual this morning. I felt lonely and deserted traversing the kilometers between my home and the school where I work and she studies. Up until last June, however, I had been going to work alone. It was only when she began going to the college where I worked that we “bonded” while commuting.
The long (not that long) train ride was most conducive to chatting about inconsequential and mundane things. Things like the state of her wardrobe, how her blockmates annoyed her, the books she wanted to buy and the fast food she wanted to sample on a daily basis.
Our conversations inevitably turned to more serious matters — how she was getting low scores in Math but which she vowed to make up for with higher scores in English and Literature and how she was enjoying college.
It was during those times that we talked about my health too, and how I felt about my job.
There were also times when nary a word was spoken by either of us. The only sound she made would be the rustling of the innumerable papers she had to read for class.
Midway through the train ride, she would always lean her head on my shoulder to take a short nap and catch up on her sleep. By virtue of her larger size, this sometimes made my back ache, but what the heck, anything for my “baby.”
My “baby” is now living temporarily with my sister, whose house is closer to her college. As school is not far away, she hopefully will have more time to study. And I, I will just have to learn to live with commuting alone, having these conversations in my mind.
Time has flown so fast from when she was a babe in my arms to one stumbling through her first steps. I realize that soon enough I will have to say goodbye on a more permanent basis so this temporary separation is a “dry run.”
Yesterday she dropped by my office because she had forgotten her vitamins at home and it was all I could do to keep myself from hugging her. I now understand why my mother visited me often at my own flat.
My feelings are also silly because she will only be away to study for her final exams next week.
The week after, she will be back home for her semestral vacation. And then the new semester will start, and we will be commuting together again, taking those long train rides together again and chatting about inconsequential things again.
by rossanahead | Oct 1, 2011 | environment, Karen Galarpe, woman
By Karen Galarpe
I overheard someone say our weather these days is bipolar. It can be very very hot in the morning until early afternoon, then rainy from late afternoon to early evening. Four days ago, it was stormy; yesterday was a sunny day, and today promises rain and flood as typhoon Quiel is here.
On social networking sites, particularly Twitter, I read many comments from people all over the world. “Crazy weather,” said one. “The weather needs to be better informed about our needs. I say we write a petition. No, protest. With signs,” tweeted Vaguery. “Weather today is so confusing. One minute the suns out, next minute a monsoon mixed with tornado-like winds coming down the street. Umph,” posted benthal.
I find it ironic that here we are complaining about the weather when, just a few weeks ago, survivors of 9/11 were recounting their stories on History Channel, Discovery Channel, and CNN. It has been 10 years since September 11, 2001, yet these survivors still choke up when recounting their experiences finding their way out of the North Tower before it collapsed, and running away from the humongous debris cloud when the twin towers collapsed.
I think these survivors wake up each day thanking God just for being alive. Shouldn’t we do the same instead of complaining about the “crazy” weather?
The next time you feel the urge to complain (it’s in our nature, don’t fret), think of something you can be thankful for. It can be the nice orchid blooming in your garden, the bird you hear chirping away outside your window, even the smell of freshly brewed coffee wafting in from the kitchen. It can be the smile on your child’s face in the morning, instead of a grumpy one. Thank God for time to have breakfast, a safe ride to school or work, and the privilege to earn a decent living. It’s a new day after all.
by rossanahead | Sep 29, 2011 | Mari-an Santos, woman
By Mari-An Santos
I grew up believing that I should give as much as I can—whether it be in terms of money or kindness or time—whatever could be given, anytime, anywhere. It was only natural for us to give food to street children or old clothes to needy neighbors. Giving knew no timing. We did not need to wait until Christmas or our birthdays to find avenues and occasions to give.
There was nothing benevolent or arrogant about it, it was just something that we did. I never found it weird or out of the ordinary. What I did find bizarre, years later, was that other people did not have the same philosophy.
I was surprised at how people would jump at the opportunity to hold gift-giving parties around Christmastime at orphanages or hospitals. It was strange to see long lists of groups of people who were assigned times and dates when they could hold the said gatherings at an orphanage, making appointments for such exercises. It was also a revelation how individuals would organize groups of people to trek to the mountains to remote villages in order to donate school supplies before June.
I was happy to see all of these activities, don’t get me wrong. But it was all alien to me. Soon after I was settled in Baguio, I got acquainted with people who would call my attention to needy groups, schools, or villages. I and some friends would then mobilize help from others to bring books or old clothes and other things the community needed—even in the middle of the year.
When people admired how I could share with other groups all year round, I realized that I was at a very unique and advantageous place. I was not part of any big group that trekked to the mountains sponsored by big business to spend a day meeting people who needed and received help. I feel blessed that I can just go on a five-and-a-half hour bus ride to Sagada with boxes of books and school supplies, be welcomed into the homes of the teachers and principals there, and spend three days getting to know the children and their families who receive the donations from friends all over the world.
It is not something that every person gets to do. But we each do the most that we can with the resources we have been given. I am very thankful that I have been given the capacity to do so.