by rossanahead | Apr 3, 2011 | family, Jing Lejano, parenting, travel, woman
By Jing Lejano
When I first took a vacation with my sisters many, many years ago, I had to be persuaded. At the time, the idea of going on vacation without my children was foreign to me. We always went everywhere together, which meant, of course, that I was never able to have a proper vacation.
It starts with the packing. I had to make sure that everybody had the appropriate number of shirts and shorts and jammies and undies. If we were traveling somewhere warm, then swimsuits and towels and sunscreen and burn ointments must be taken care of. If we were traveling somewhere cold, then jackets and pants are mandatory. We’re not even talking about their vitamins and medicines, and when we still had a baby, diapers and bottles.
I remember running after them on the beach, making sure they didn’t go too far from the shore. I remember walking behind them as they ran through hills, making sure nobody loses a footing—and being there if by chance they do. I remember feeding them, bathing them, and then putting them all to sleep, and remembering that hey, we are actually on vacation. Or at least, they are.
It wasn’t until years later that I realized that I needed a break—badly. And that’s when it dawned on me: I have to go on vacation, a real one!
On our first day out, I was so happy not to be bothered by the knock of little fingers while I was in the bathroom. It was an absolute joy not to have any itinerary or any real agenda. I slept. I ate. I swam. I lied down on the sand, and made castles. It was glorious!
Today, I know better. Whether it’s a three-day trip or a two-hour appointment at the spa, I know that the best way that I could take care of my children is to take care of myself first.
by rossanahead | Apr 2, 2011 | family, travel, woman
By Jenny Bonto
No balikbayan experience wouldn’t be complete without a reunion – whether of the family, your high school class, college barkada, or former colleagues at work. These get-togethers can even be considered the be-all and end-all of one’s trip back home.
In the Philippines, anything, and we mean anything, can be a cause for coming together and enjoying each others’ company. In sickness and in health, for richer or poorer, from conception till death, we Pinoys love company. So a reunion would always be in order whether its a child’s baptism or an elder’s wake, a birthday or a death anniversary and anything in between.
Sometimes, the mere arrival of a balikbayan triggers a reunion, especially if paid for by the balikbayan himself.
There are, of course, grand family reunions of such scale and magnitude to rival the Olympics. These are the clan gatherings held once every three to five years and involving at least three generations and several branches of the family tree. These are the type of family reunions that see family members wearing specially-designed t-shirts, performing various cultural numbers (although that doesn’t count for much in this age of “magic sing”), and consuming enough food to feed half of the African continent.
These are the reunions we go home to. The ones we are usually asked to fund.
So for the smart woman, here are some guidelines for your next reunion back home:
* Small is beautiful. Grand reunions are stressful, whole-day affairs where you hardly get to talk or get acquainted with others. An intimate lunch or dinner with select members of the family or friends is often more meaningful and enjoyable, not to mention easy on the pocket.
* There’s no such thing as enough food. Filipinos love food both in quantity and quality. Be prepared; family reunions usually start at lunch stretching all the way past merienda, sometimes even till dinnertime. If Pinoys love eating, so do they cooking. So go ahead and do a potluck.
* Try a restaurant. Reunions are traditionally held in some family member’s or friend’s big house. But a restaurant with a good buffet table or an events venue with your caterer of choice is just as good. It migh be a tad more expensive but considering the less hassle of someone else worrying about the house, the food, the dishwashing, and the parking space, I’d say it’s worth it.
* Ditch the videoke. Filipinos love music. Unfortunately, it doesn’t always work vice versa. A videoke or “magic sing” makes everyone think they’re the next Pinoy Idol. So if you don’t want your reunion constantly marred by someone’s booming falsetto, better stick to an ordinary microphone. Unless, of course, it’s your singing you want them to hear.
* Don’t forget the politics of pasalubong and pabalot. A balikbayan without pasalubong is as unthinkable as a reunion without leftover pabalot. The pasalubong itself is of little regard. It can be a can of Spam, a pair of socks, or a second-hand bag bought in a garage sale. In the same light, the pabalot can be anything: a slice of puto, a plastic bag of kare-kare, a llanera of leche flan, or the lechon’s head. What is important is the thought of being remembered and appreciated.
The main thing about reunions, though, is that they are meant to be fun and memorable. That’s what makes a reunion so priceless.
by rossanahead | Apr 1, 2011 | children, Gina Abuyuan, parenting, woman
By Gina Abuyuan
In my most recent post, I listed down qualities or “practices” that solo parents may be doing to be raising pretty well-rounded and well-grounded children. Aside from showing them—inadvertently or advertently—a more “real” view of the world, and teaching them to be more responsible and understanding, solo parents somehow also produce more conscientious children. Whether this is a reaction rooted in guilt (since the child sees the parent having to exert double the effort in everything), I don’t know. I’m no psychologist, so this can all be attributed to observation.
One of the areas I see this trait in is money and material possessions. Even with the world at his feet and everyone around him eager to make up for his lack of a mother via gifts or cash, J, my partner’s son, shrugs it off. I’ve heard him say more than once, “I have enough.” Sometimes we even have to force him to think of things for us to buy him when we go abroad or even to the supermarket. Once, when I brought him an assortment of potato chips, he asked me whom they were for. His reason? He didn’t ask for them, so they must be for somebody else.
I still have yet to encounter a problem with him going overboard his budget. Since he’s already in college, his allowance is substantially higher than his half sisters (on his mom’s side), and his would-be stepsister and brother (on his dad’s side, through me). That’s not to say he scrimps, but it’s apparent he’s a smarter spender and saver than most 20-year-olds with their own car and access to a bank account.
I see the same cautiousness about finances in my daughter. It’s not that she doesn’t want anything, but saving up and spending for something she lusts after is second nature to her. Three years ago, at 10 years old, she saved her Christmas money to buy a Mac optical mouse worth P3,000. The year after that, she bought her own Skullcandy earphones. This year, after selling her first wave of silicone ballers (and paying what she owed me in full the very moment she could), she bought her own DS, and treated herself to a few pieces at Forever 21. (It made me think—what was I doing when I was 13? Lying in my bed daydreaming about Duran Duran, that’s what.)
So what did my partner and I do—aside from triggering in them a certain sense of responsibility due to our situation—that made them more careful about money than normal? Here’s what I think:
* We encouraged piggy banks or money jars at an early age. I prefer a transparent jar so kids can see how much is being saved. Let them lift the jar from time to time to see how heavy it’s getting. Take a few coins out to buy some candy to show them the concrete relation between money and a product. (I haven’t opened bank accounts for my kids yet, but my partner has. Maybe I should soon.)
* Make them earn it. I didn’t do the “do your chores” bit, since I believe kids should pitch in without getting paid; besides, with what my daughter earns with her ballers, you think she’d even want to wash the dishes for P50? Nah. When my daughter said, “I want to earn money,” I asked her to figure out what she was good at, and make money from that. She’s quite adept at graphic design, so boom. Ballers. Next up: bags and shirts.
* I keep my kids’ money gifts, but when we go out and they see something they like, I remind them about the amount that’s with me. I ask them to think twice about whether they want to blow all of it on that certain product, or if they can live without it, or if they’d like to look around more. It discourages impulse buying.
* We’re careful about our own attitudes about money, and how they might influence the kids. We’re generous when we can, we’re honest about tightening the belt straps if need be. Eating in Mang Larry’s in U.P. doesn’t mean we can’t have as a good time if we eat in Burgoo’s. We don’t like swiping the card, and my partner has illustrated to my daughter and to his son the horrors and problems of people mired in debt. We never say “money is the root of all evil,” because money can be good—it just depends on how you use it. I’m particularly sensitive about the phrase “wala akong pera” because that creates waves of energy that will make it a self-fulfilling prophecy, so I call my daughter’s and partner’s attention whenever I hear that. We also like to point out stuff in the news—the AFP scandal, for instance—and use them as opportunities to remind them that stolen money or ill-gotten wealth means you’ve deprived other people of their due, and it’s likely to come back and bite you nastily in the ass.
by rossanahead | Mar 30, 2011 | Education, Mari-an Santos, woman
By Mari-An Santos
A child so anti-social that she didn’t want anyone’s skin to touch hers in a crowded jeepney. A girl so timid that she couldn’t be coaxed into joining parlor games even after all the other parents had stopped thinking it was adorable. A pre-teen so shy that she would read a book in the middle of a party that her mother had forced her to attend. That was me.
All I had ever wanted to do was write. That is, after my fourth grade teacher “discovered” that I could put words to paper and sent me, along with a select few, to a tete-a-tete with NVM Gonzalez. But as it turned out, it was not such a simple choice.
I had heard that college should be a time to build a network. But this quintessential nerd simply clutched her books and went to class early. I studied hard alright but did not make more than a few friends.
It was after college when I slowly came out of my shell. I learned how to approach complete strangers and talk to them without breaking into a sweat or walking away. I have even managed to make friends from different parts of the world. While I’m still a long way from being the poster girl for confidence, I can hold my own in polite company.
My mother no longer wonders, “What will happen to this shy little girl?” Though maybe sometimes she wonders what has become of her.
Can you keep a secret? She’s still here.
by rossanahead | Mar 23, 2011 | Mari-an Santos, travel, woman
By Mari-An Santos
“I believe there are angels among us, sent down to us from somewhere up above,” goes one of my favorite songs. This is apparent in little miracles of daily life. But it was even more vivid during my recent holiday in Thailand.
I so enjoyed the hospitality and kindness of Siam last year that I returned with two friends in tow. As we were by no means experts on traversing the streets of Thailand, we often relied on the kindness of strangers.
There was the young man in Bangkok who I asked if I was at the right bus stop to MBK. Indicating that he could not speak English, he proceeded to call a friend on his mobile. When his friend was unreachable, he asked people for directions. And as it turned out, I was on the wrong side of the road. He not only pointed out where I should wait, he also helped me cross the street.
There was the girl on the train from Bangkok to Ayutthaya, who along with her mother, was making flowers from ribbons for her brother to offer at the temple. We asked what they were doing, entranced by the rhythmic movement and ease by which they transformed a simple band into a floral replica, and soon, she was asking about the Philippines. At the end of the ride, we gave them some polvoron baon and she gave each one of us a rose.
There was this woman and her husband in Ayutthaya who we asked about how we could walk get to our house from the night market. She said that it was too far for us to walk. They let us ride in their car and drove us there instead! She gave us her number to call in case we needed anything else while in Thailand.
There was the sales clerk from 7-Eleven who, a few minutes after I asked for directions to the Warorot Market in Chiang Mai, drove up in his motorcycle as I was walking down the street, clutching the tiny sketch he had made for me. He said that he would take me part of the way since he was on his way there too.
There was this couple giving an old friend a temple tour of Chiang Mai that generously offered me a seat on their Benz to join them for the day. I ended up exploring Doi Suthep, a popular hilltop temple frequented by tourists, and a little known pagoda that had a 600-year-old history. We had a late dinner at an authentic Thai restaurant.
God has situated angels all over to help us in many different ways in the form of people we meet on our way. When you open yourself up—of course, not too much, but just right—people reveal to you their most beautiful qualities and you in turn are able to show others the good in you.
Photo by David Marcu on Unsplash
