My Blog

When I was a kid (I still am at heart = ), I was very careful with the things I did on January 1. I had this odd belief that the rest of the year would be determined by what I did on Day 1. That probably explains the history behind our New Year’s resolutions. Over time, however, I realized there’s not much truth to it. Perhaps because I was not always successful at keeping my word. 

Like detoxification, we look to the New Year for a fresh start. We condemn vices. We forgive enemies. We go healthy and green. Our New Year’s resolutions provide just the right anti-oxidant dose. But doubt is cast on the efficacy of this dosage especially as every new year draws to a close. 

All of us may have experienced the feeling of wanting to change something about us, the things that we do, the manner by which we live life on New Year’s eve. We contemplate on the closing year with a mental incense, burning away pessimism and procrastination that plagued the year that was. And yet all the time, temptations come along in the middle of the new year, and we rub off our commitments to ourselves. “After all, there’s always chance for me to get them done in the next year. And I sure will do them by then.” A familiar way to comfort us for our failures. 

Can we stop faltering? 

Making plans is one thing and realizing them is another thing. Usually the former comes the easiest. Most of us have a hard time giving flesh to our plans. What then draws those who are successful from those who keep on tripping? I don’t know. To each his own. What may work for one person may not work of us. But there’s no harm in trying. 

The problem does not lie in the plans. They lie in the timeframe. We want everything to be instant. So we get frustrated when flowers fail to bloom in the cold of winter. There’s always time for everything. We have to appreciate not just what we want to do but what we can do and the pace at which we can do them.

Our colonial mentality has caught up with us that we always have standards and references. We want to become like this and that. There’s nothing wrong when we look up to people. This oftentimes get our interest and determination in the brew. We draw inspiration from their strong resolve. But it’s different when we start conforming to their mold. When their template fails to work for us, we start losing our identity, we frustrate ourselves. And this is when we falter. The vicious cycle continues.   

To most, New Year signals a start of a fresh life. To others, it offers new hope. To me, it is an ordinary year that presents no more than an opportunity to constantly challenge myself to live life as best I could.

Fact is: New Year is simply a time when we replace our calendars on the walls and those on our desks. And, yeah, to us working professionals, New Year starts the end of the glory days of our Christmas bonus. =)

A recent issue of the Philippine Star had a story with a cartoon that stressed: “Nowadays, even thinking of getting married is enough proof of psychological incapacity!”

This seems to be true with more and more annulment cases being lodged with trial courts. A number of Filipinos love the American concept of marriage that getting someone to say “I do” is becoming a decision by gut-feel. Not much thought is given to it. After all, if it doesn’t turn out right, there’s always a way out.

Annulling a marriage is no simple process, however. You have to prove at least one of the seven grounds for annulment (falling under Article 45 of the Family Code). The most invoked is “psychological incapacity.” Most popular among those that characterize psychological incapacity is “irreconcilable differences” or “conflicting personalities.” The burden is to prove a party’s failure to perform his/her duties to the family.

But what does irreconcilable differences mean? No one is so certain. I can only think of a wife transmogrifying from a lamb into a lion after marriage (although, in other PG18 contexts, this is not necessarily a bad thing = ).

Without intending to be discriminatory, annulment, to a certain extent, has made marriage a status symbol and a fashion statement. It could spell maturity and financial security to some. Among those with the right looks, changing partners is no different from upgrading accessories. When one is out of fashion with a morena, then get a mestiza next. If one has gotten tired of a “made in the Philippines,” then look beyond the coastline for an international choice.

It makes me wonder how annulment still thrives even in the face of rising costs of marriage. Add to that the expenses incurred in a married life that oftentimes make me doubt the accuracy of fairytale books hammering into our heads “…and they lived happily ever after.” I can only hope authors did not mean this in the context of the after life.

Marriage has become so expensive. Even the mere thought of it renders others crazy. You run down the list of items to spend on, and you find yourself the next day joining the long queue of hopefuls at the lottery outlet. If you have the money in the bank, you pray that spending on it will turn out to be a worthwhile investment — not something pseudo accountants would easily convert to credits to your “experience” account.

A friend discussed with me the marriage plans of his girlfriend. Although the girlfriend did not price each item, he had his own idea of how quickly the cash register would snap at this bank account. Because he comes from a family of good financial standing, his voice did not manifest fear of going bankrupt.

“P100,000 for the bride’s gown alone.” “Around half a million for the reception.” “A good chunk for the flowers and cake.” “And a considerable amount for the travel expenses of our relatives.”

And then he totaled the expenses: “I assume I’ll be spending around P1 million.”

As he shared his mental note of each expense, I was forcing myself to sip from what already was an empty coffee tumbler, expecting the air to give off some energy drink elements to keep my balance. The effect of his calculations provoked palpitations more than that of caffeine’s!

The cost of marriage nowadays have made people more practical. Others are doing away with church weddings in favor of civil weddings. Some don’t even mind getting married at all; the bed becomes their test and nest of love and commitment.

It is understandable why young professionals are turning to marriage at a later age. Unless you can cook “love” in a frying pan or a rice cooker, most prefer to wait for their bank accounts to half-heartedly screech a “go” signal. The challenge to young professionals, however, is to moderate their expenses. True, being single is more expensive than being married. There is higher propensity to spend unnecessarily when you’re single and thinking of no one else to share your income with yet. Admittedly, I belong to the flock. Guilty as charged!

I cannot say that I detest marriage though. I cannot also say that I will not look forward to getting married. But what I know is, I hope to one day say, “I’m getting married.”

As to when? I rather postpone the “I do”, and pray, “so help me God.” = )

I never thought a roundtrip ticket abroad could only cost P1 and a test of honesty.

“Mark, how old are you? Please do not lie.” I received this text message from World Bank (WB) Manila. It confused me. I did not know if it was an implicit question on my natural ability to tell the truth or a subtle insinuation that I looked way older than what I had claimed. Nevertheless, I replied: “26”.

Three weeks after, I found myself in mid-air for 18 hours total, on my way to the capital of the US of A where the seat of power awaits the messianic embrace of Barack Obama.

I was among 18 youth leaders and advocates from around the world privileged to have been invited to the World Bank-International Monetary Fund Annual Meetings held October 7-13, 2008 in Washington DC.

The meetings annually gather close to 10,000 individuals representing various sectors: government, business and private sector, civil society, and media.

The youth sector was the freshest addition, and I was the lone Filipino in the group and had the opportunity to be one of three youth panelists on “Young People Exercising Citizenship.” The other panelists were Onyeka Obasi, President of the Friends of Africa Foundation, and Renata Florentino of the International Youth Parliament, Brazil.

Being in Washington was a humbling experience. I cannot claim that I have made a great impact on the lives of the Filipino youth. There is still a long way to go.

I am certain, however, that there are other Filipino youth advocates and leaders out there more deserving of the slot but whose great works remain unnoticed and unappreciated.

It was largely because of the WB-funded project, “Operationalizing and Popularizing the WDR: Exercising Citizenship in Monitoring Transparency in Local Government Procurement,” that I am handling as project leader on behalf of Silliman University that I was invited to attend. This project ranked first in the world out of eight grantees, and targets two youth classifications as beneficiaries: in-school and out-of-school. For this project, I worked with a Silliman team composed of Dr. Rose Baseleres, Dean of the College of Mass Communication, Stacy Danika Alcantara, Student Government president, and College of Law professor Myrish Cadapan-Antonio.

The special session with the youth reinforced the role that the youth play as future leaders of the world. With 1.5 billion young people between the ages 12 and 24 in the world, WB believes that “the youth represent a tremendous opportunity to accelerate economic growth and reduce poverty worldwide.”

Oftentimes, the youth are neglected in the decision making processes of government. There is little attempt to listen to them and integrate their opinions into the overall action plan of government. There is a need for government leaders, those who belong to the so-called “wiser generation,” to engage the youth in development discourse – not only during election time. It seemed apparent during our discussions that youth issues do not represent priority interests of government.

Common among developing countries is a scenario where the youth suffer from lack of quality education, aggravated by insufficiency of qualified teachers, books, and equipment. We talk of harnessing the potentials of the youth, facilitating smooth transition from school to work, but those youth who are victims of poverty often have to be content with what could be leftovers of a system way left behind. No wonder there is a high dropout rate. While there is no question on the transformative value of education, the failure of available resources to support the promise of education dampens the youth’s interest and leads them to find greater value in the temporary benefits of leaving school in favor of low-paying jobs.

Admittedly, however, to put the blame solely on government is not always fair. Family problems, peer pressure, and vices also come as reasons for the youth’s inability to finish school. Some of our youth project participants revealed that their addiction to drugs and vices and their engagement in pre-marital sex were their only ways of getting attention from their parents.

The greater challenge is to elevate the self-worth of the youth who are victims of poverty and other social circumstances beyond their control. This is a challenge that government should take up. While basketball games, beauty contests, and singing and dance competitions sponsored by local government units please the senses, these activities could also come as an insult to the potential contributions of the youth toward social development and to their ability to be equal players in governmental affairs, unless utilized as tools for dialogue. When we fail to consider them as partners, we deprive the youth of the opportunity to realize their potentials and test how much of a leader they can become. The youth will not be convinced of their ability to make a difference, and will be hard to mobilize, until we make them realize that they have value.

It is just like a bulad (dried fish) to a family. When a poor family fails to appreciate its value, that family can never help someone who is hungry, as it will continue to find humiliation over the thought of sharing something that it even could not convince itself to be sustaining.

When he learned of my plans of going on a vacation in a nearby cheap Asian country, my father offered to pay for everything. He floated figures. But, the offer was conditional: I had to bring with me a particular person, someone the family thinks I still am into. Surrender.

I could not say it would have been easier for me to get into a connivance with her. I could have gotten her a ticket for proof purposes, then have it refunded, only to get my father’s offer. The prospect of getting the amount and spending it on a vacation with that intended second party was, however, dim.

When I was set to save up for a trip in November, a text message reached me: “Mark, how old are you? Please do not lie.” I had no clue that this simple question was already my ticket to what most call “the land of milk and honey.” Obligated, I told the truth: “26.” I received a call 2 days after that sealed my chances at getting to the US — for FREE!

Like anyone wanting to enrich his faith, there are times when I engage Him in a conversation. I reflect on why things turn out against my plans. But I always realize at the end that He has set a different path for me to take. He knows best.

If only we learn to look up and brave the teary-eyed clouds, we can find nestled up in their arms a comforting glow that assures us that there’s always the sun ready to warm us up anew. Tomorrow, if not today.

I told the class to think of a product which features they can easily identify themselves with, and to market themselves as how they would market their product.

"Smell me… I am Polo Sport" said one.

"I could easily wipe your tears away" went the marketing line of another, comparing herself to a sponge.

"I’m as precious as gold… as precious as time" the Cartier timepiece wannabe student proclaimed.

I thought they did well. It was not a marketing class, but if I were a customer, I would have a hard time choosing which among them would bruise my credit card.

Then it was the turn of an interesting, petite Nursing student. As she smiled and stood up, the glow of her pearly white teeth against her dark brown gloss made her look so amiable, sophisticated, and innocent.

"I am a sanitary napkin…" she started her piece. "I am shy, but I can keep you protected."

It was not hard for her to take the class hostage. Her every drop of word spelled wit and eloquence. Plus her posture and eye contact, she could easily become a campus figure.

And then her grand conclusion, the greatest "sales pitch"…

"So buy me! Buy WHISPER not with wings but WITH TONGUE…the only napkin that keeps you wet even if you’re dry."

@#@#$%#$^#%&#^&#$%^#$%^@#$% ?!!!!!

… Of course, the uncorrupted me did not know what she meant. *winks*

A colleague forwarded this to me. A nice way of packaging "old age". (Now I wonder if it’s an indirect reminder of how fast I am aging in this organization. HELP!hehehe)

*********
Old Age, I decided, is
a   gift

I am now, probably for the first time in
my   life, the person I have always wanted to be.  Oh, not
my   body!  I sometime despair over my body, the wrinkles, the
baggy   eyes, and the sagging butt.  And often I am taken aback
by that old   person that lives in my mirror (who looks like my
mother!), but I don’t agonize over those things for long.

I would never
trade my amazing friends, my wonderful life, my loving family for less gray hair
or a flatter    belly.  As I’ve aged, I’ve become more kind to
myself, and less   critical of myself. I’ve become my own
friend.

I don’t chide myself   for eating that extra cookie, or
for not making my bed, or for buying   that silly cement gecko that I
didn’t need, but looks so avante garde on my patio.  I am entitled to a
treat, to be messy, to be   extravagant.

I   have
seen too many dear friends leave this world too soon; before they 
understood the great freedom that comes with aging.

Whose business is it
if I choose to read or play on the computer until 4 AM and sleep until 
  noon?

I will dance with   myself to those wonderful
tunes of the 60&70’s, and if I, at the   same time, wish to weep
over a lost love .. I will.

I will walk the beach in a swim suit that is
stretched over a bulging body, and will   dive into the waves with
abandon if I choose to, despite the pitying glances from the jet set
.

This summer, I learned the following:

(1) Words are very powerful — people could easily use them to lead you on and play around to boost their egos. Careful.

(2) Life is short — so enjoy  it when you have the means to. You may also mutually exploit partnerships (Junkets?)

(3) There’s more to life than work — give a shot at crazy stuffs once in a while. This allows you to deepen your perspective of life and widen your network of friends.

(4) Never think of age — age doesn’t matter. May it be in the context of relationships or simple exchange of ideas.

(5) Take Cebu Pacific — Air Phils has mastered the art of "adventurous landing"

(6) Go rice-less — to help address the shortage of rice, stop eating rice (though I doubt if you eat NFA)! Mais? Watch out on protein intake though –  the pigs might turn extinct.

(7) See yourself in Bora and the "go with the flow" opportunities that’s staple to the place– this may be one of the best ways to challenge yourself to burn those calories

Enjoy!

There are times when I admittedly question God. "Why me?" "Why does this have to happen?" "Why cannot it happen?"

I guess this experience is not exclusive to me. I’m sure others have thought of the same questions at some point in their life.

Turn of events, however, has its way of making us realize that there is what is called as "God’s time". It is time that we cannot decide on, though we can work toward; one that we cannot demand for, though we can pray for; one that we do not exactly know when it’s happening, though we can be assured of it arriving — usually at times when we have started to lose the need for it in favor of an alternative or a rest from exhaustive contemplation.

Two days after officially surviving yet another year of life’s intricacies, I received a package that contained an answer to my prayers. It came at a time when I was preoccupied with something else that I have been longing to challenge myself with. And it came roughly 3 months after an experience that made me reassess my self-worth and question how I value myself vis-a-vis my goals. But it just arrived. An answered prayer. One more step to getting the needed "break" by September this year. It’s all in His hands now. So help me God… Amen! 

I’m now 26. Still young to some, old enough for certain serious arrangements to others.

In my years on earth, I have learned that somehow we cannot always rely on how things seemingly present themselves as opportunities to us. In an hour they lead us floating, in another, they pull us down. Life could be tiring. And the people around it, or playing a role in it, could make it worse. But there are also times when things are worth the risk.  If they fail to bring favorable results, however, find assurance in the thought that that’s just how life is — Dammit! Who cares?! Ooppss… (Bad ending, I know = )

"Everyone is Nursing here, right?" she asked without allowing her classmates to reply. "…So it’s okay for me to talk about it."

She looked so innocent. Her confidence carried her to the stage like how wind does a leaf. She took her position, and started to glance and smile at the audience. It was hard for me to expect an "electric shock" from her. Her finding comfort in the class being composed of all Nursing students, however, pinned me up in mystery.

Like any teacher wanting to show respect to his students, I sat straight, held my pen, placed my right hand atop the other, and leaned forward. I became a personification of good posture, until she declared:

"I will talk about masturbation."

SHOOTS!!!! It was at that instant that I wanted the door to slam itself on me unconscious. If only I could tickle the cracks in the wall open, I would have slithered through them.

It was not a Biology class! It was neither a Healthcare 101 class! It was a Speech class! Worse, it was a Speech class which students Philippine laws classify as "minors."

Hearing her talk about "masturbation" conjured up images of the brass cross at the Silliman Church. Her every word formed the puzzle of myself being nailed to that cross by the University Religious Life Council.

But there I was, dealing with a topic best taken up outside my hearing distance.

"…breathe in…breathe out…" I told myself, as air rode on the rough tides of laughters of the class that seemingly made it hard for air to get through my nostrils.

Just when I was in the process of wiping off the natural red paint on my face, I had to hold my breath again when she ran down the list of benefits from masturbation:

"…It can help those who are suffering from insomnia… It relieves stress… It cures depression…"

I had to take in everything as both teacher and human. Without sending wrong signs of affirmation, I continued to listen to her attentively. I knew what she was talking about, but I had to play naieve. It was awkward to be hearing someone spilling the beans about a "private" activity that most consider normal among guys.

It was at the point when I confronted myself. "This is not that bad after all. It’s scientific. It’s academic." There was sense and truth to what she was discussing.

The greatest challenge at that point, however, was finding balance as I trekked the fine thread held on one side by my encouraging them to be creative and relevant to their age, and on another, by my desire to stick to the norms and conservatism.

I decided I cannot — and shouldn’t — censor her. It’s arguably part of learning. The more you open for discussion sensitive topics, the more you expose them to the realities of life, and in the process, prepare them for wise decisions. The teacher in that picture then becomes a facilitator, ensuring that the discussion plays around the bounds of what is academic.

It was admittedly hard to defend the student and myself at the same time for allowing that topic to be discussed. And it became tougher when she seemingly wanted more in the flock:

"Girls also masturbate, just like boys. And this is a fact. Am I not right?"

This is when my naivete became genuine.