And The Living's Easy.

Well, not that easy if your livelihood depends on the ebb and flow of fair-going crowds. Nevertheless, my Filipino brethren seem to do it for the love as evidenced in this film short. It makes me want to ride Ferris Wheels and throw darts at balloons -- and leave my worries at home for a little while.



How's your summer so far? Mine's going very well.

New Specs.

Since it's much cheaper to make them there, I got a brand-new pair of glasses from the Philippines courtesy of family connections:

anti-myopia device

They have some funky, modern design elements that I like, from the bold flash of red on the arms to the split design on the lateral edges of the frame. As with all new prescription glasses, they'll take a day or two to get used to while my eyes adjust -- perspective is always a bit skewed at first, making me feel like I'm swimming in a prism. (Yes, I'm freaking blind.)

I like 'em though. Happy Monday!

A Conversation On Post-It Notes.

This weekend, my mom is coming home from a 2-month stay in the Philippines, where she took care of some family business. The passage below was originally written and posted 12 October 2008 on another blog, but I wanted to repost here in an effort to commemorate how much she has been missed.

Nay went through some successful oral surgery about a week ago, and thankfully her road to recovery has been steady and unmarred with complications. As a result though, she's been in some post-op pain, with some swelling and a general inability to speak. So for the time being, most of our communication has been in short bursts written down on Post-It notes accompanied by amusing hand-fluttering and waving, punctuated by formless exclamations. For much of the week she's been awake, alert and seems relatively fine, but this afternoon she had a pretty serious episode of nausea and headache and had to retire early to my parents' bedroom -- leaving my dad to labor cautiously to finish the chicken and pasta meals she left simmering on the stove and checking in on her every few minutes.

Shortly afterward, I was studying for my midterms in the dining room when my dad informed me that she wanted to talk to me, so I went in and sat down in a chair beside the bed. Although it reads like the conversation took only a few seconds, it lasted several minutes due to the fact that she had to write down her responses and questions. [Edit: I found the notes the next morning as I was getting ready for class. Since she'd written a recipe for my dad to follow on the same pages, I just copied her words on my own paper for transcription into this entry.]

write your heart out

She jotted down Stay for a minute pls?

"Sure -- let me go get my book and highlighter. I'll sit with you for a minute." I left and came back with my study materials a few seconds later. I thought she just wanted someone to hang out in the room with her, which was fine with me, but she started writing slowly on her pad.

I love you anak. You have not disappointed me -- magaling ka at mabait -- tutularan ka ng mga kapatid mo¹. Sorry for my hurting you in the past. Hindi rin kita na-guide ng husto at tama². I pray you will be mentally healthy.

I was surprised. "No ... it's okay. You didn't do anything wrong."

I feel bad for doing what I had done to you and your siblings. Marami ka pa bang naalala na mali kong ginawa?³

Again, I said no. Even though I wasn't sure where this was going, it was definitely an important moment.

Pag meron pa, sabihin mo sa akin freely para hindi ka nagagalit ng sobra⁴. You are and you could always be better.

"No Mom, it's fine. I'm not angry with anyone. It's okay." Well, this was only 90% true -- the only person I'm mad at most of the time is myself.

Thank you anak -- kung bababa ang BP ko tutulungan kitang mag-review. Anak, tapos na ang one minute⁵. Thank you for staying.

I looked up after reading this last part and saw that she was crying softly. At first I didn't understand why she wanted to bring up something like this. I just thought she wanted to bond with me a little and open up a line of communication about an issue she obviously felt was unresolved. It's true though -- I'm not angry at her for how my life has turned out. It definitely isn't perfect and I have several problems that need to be worked on, but I attribute none of them to how I was raised or the way my parents have treated me.

I can't deny that until relatively recently, I really had no direction in life whatsoever. Maybe that was because neither my mom nor dad ever pressured me into pursuing a particular career path. Although they've hinted at an education in the medical field for almost as long as I can remember, I wouldn't call it "pressure." They let me do whatever I wanted to do, which was cool at the time, but in the end I floundered. Perhaps it happened for a reason, because now I have the motivation and drive to finish something (in the allied healthcare industry no less!), and be good at it. So for that, I sincerely thank them.

I checked in on her later to see how she was and also to retrieve the Post-Its of our conversation. I didn't find them unfortunately, but in my search I read something she had written to my dad before she'd called for me:

Please stay with me -- I'm afraid to go to sleep.

I think my mom was scared she wouldn't wake up. That was why she wanted to talk to me and ask my forgiveness, just in case. I think that's why she was crying. I was stunned.

She actually is sleeping now, fitfully, but she's in no danger of going anywhere. Although I'm going to miss the hand movements that look like she's trying to conduct an orchestra, I can't wait until she's fully recovered so we can talk and laugh again.

Tagalog-English Translations:
¹You're good and kind ... your siblings will learn from you.
²I didn't guide you well or right.
³Do you remember a lot of things that I did wrong?
⁴If there's anything else, tell me freely so that you won't be so angry.
⁵If my blood pressure goes down, I'll help you review. Son, it's been more than a minute.

Kc Nhhya C Nnay.

This past weekend, my mom got an email from a younger family friend back in the Philippines and called me over because she was having some trouble deciphering it. At first I was puzzled as to why she'd ever need me to do that, but it became pretty apparent. She laughed when she saw me try to read it:

ate
susan
svi poh ni nny
pasencia
na poh kc hind poh cia mksgot agad kc my alga xiang bata 8 mnts
ngyn poh pde dw poh kc aalgaan dw poh mna nung aswa ng kua qoh
tta susan svu n nny
sna dw poh mgksma clang dlwa n ate mariet
kc nhhya c nnay................
pkzvi nlng poh kung kailan,,,,,,,,,,,,
thnks
ngtz poh alwys,,,,,,,,,,,,,

Oh man.

This is obviously text-speak*. I'd seen it in extremely small doses here in the States, but this is straight from the source! Almost every single word is abbreviated or chopped up. In an effort to decode the syntax:

1. the addition of an h at the end of po and qo (which is supposed to be spelled ko in the first place!): maybe to "round" out the word a little; Tagalog can sound sharp and jagged when it needs to be
   
   
2. generally omitting as many a's as you can: this makes sense to me, since we use that particular letter very frequently
   
   
3. replacing b with v, and si with c or xi: probably purely aesthetic; it definitely makes the language more colorful and -- dare I say it -- exotic
   

The email is even phrased like a text message. I myself have enough trouble reading regular written Tagalog as it is, so it took us a minute to figure things out. Once we got the hang of it though, it wasn't too bad and was actually kinda fun to read.

*I have a hunch lots of Tagalog-speaking Twitter members probably tweet like this too. I dunno, I'll have to check.

A Heady Mixture Of Religion, Community & Consumerism.

Here's a short essay I wrote for my English class earlier this fall. The goal was to describe a location to someone who hadn't been there before. My hope is that I did it justice.

Quiapo Church Courtyard, Manila, Philippines.

The heat is the first thing one would notice. Actually, “notice” is too gentle of a word; the strength of the sun’s rays seems to beat everything into submission with a glaring sheen, smothering the entire courtyard with a breathless, oppressive force. Not even the feeble shade provided by the occasional banana plant provides much relief. It’s as if God Himself had opened a piping-hot oven in heaven.

The religious reference seems almost appropriate here, in the side Courtyard of the Minor Basilica of the Black Nazarene in Quiapo, a market district of Manila (“Quiapo Church”). It’s an expansive site, clean and wide, and open to the cloud-dotted sky. The church and its associated buildings form its northern and western walls; various shops and department stores topped with small, dingy apartments border the remaining sides. Telephone and power lines stretch and dangle overhead. Several statues of saints have been mounted in between the entrances to the church, hands upraised (Kaemena). It’s easy to imagine them welcoming you into the cool interior of the Basilica to seek protection from the blaze.

Despite this constant intense heat, thousands of churchgoers whisper their prayers and attend their novenas, then venture into the courtyard after Mass. It’s a perfect venue for street vendors. Arriving early in the morning while the courtyard is being swept clean, they set up shop. They hawk everything from flip-flops to fragrant wildflowers, from balloons to t-shirts, from fried fish to umbrellas. Needless to say, business is brisk as the courtyard is packed for most of the day. Children dash in and out of crowds and gather in groups, chattering about playing their next game of pick-up basketball. Elderly women in faded housedresses fan themselves under storefront awnings. Food vendors swat flies away from their sizzling kabobs, shouting the names of the food so that they can be heard above the din of the crowd. High school students stroll by laughing, backpacks slung across one shoulder and hoping to spot their friends. Young mothers hoist their toddlers higher up one arm and hang plastic shopping bags from the other. As if in celebration, every hour the church bells clang from their towers and add to the cacophony below.

The courtyard only gets busier in the afternoon as people leave their offices and fill the streets. If one pauses in the middle of the courtyard, closed your eyes and simply listened, one would catch snippets of English words and sentences interwoven with the Tagalog dialect predominant in this part of the Philippines. Potential buyers haggle comfortably and easily with vendors over the price of children’s sandals. Strains of American and Filipino pop music intermittently float down from the apartment windows above, or blare from passing vehicles idling in constant traffic the next street over. Melodic, seven-note car horns frequently interrupt conversations.

Accompanying the orchestra of street sounds bouncing off the church walls is an olfactory bonanza. The faintly sweet scent of sampaguita, a popular native blossom, pervades the air; the flower is thought to promote well-being and health (“Sampaguita”). Sampaguita strands hang around the necks and wrists of passers-by and churchgoers alike as they congregate around the portable food booths under large, inviting rainbow-colored umbrellas, from which rise the rich aromas of fried bananas, steamed peanuts, eggrolls, sweet potatoes, and fried fish covered in dipping sauce. It all makes for an extremely unique combination of mouth-watering smells.

There is also shopping to be done here. Two main avenues, leading out of the courtyard to the bustling city beyond, are lined with small clothing shops, fast food restaurants, larger department stores and tiny mom-and-pop grocery outlets. More often than not, these pedestrian streets are so completely packed with shoppers that the pavement below their feet is invisible (Kaemena). Even the stoops and storefront entrances are occupied with people taking up almost every available space. It seems as if the only other places to sit are inside the Basilica. The businesses found here in no way cater exclusively to the upper class; those boutique stores containing higher-end items are located in massive air-conditioned malls in other, wealthier districts of Metro Manila. No, the courtyard is where someone would go after church to buy a rubber doormat and undershirts, and then snack on a couple of quail eggs.

The courtyard of the Minor Basilica of the Black Nazarene is one of the most ideal places to catch a glimpse of urban Filipino culture. The odd, heady mixture of religious devotion, community and consumerism finding a common denominator and packed tightly into one space is on full display here, and it is truly a wondrous experience to behold.

Works Cited.

1. Kaemena, Willy. “Quiapo Church Panorama In Philippines.” 360 Cities. Web. Ed. Jeffrey Martin. 13 Sep 2009.
2. “Quiapo Church.” Wikipedia. Wikimedia Foundation, 28 June 2009. Web. 27 June 2009.
3. “Sampaguita.” The Flower Expert. Web. 13 Sep 2009.