Dear Ate Saling

Just as I was trying to finish the book Kapeng Arabo by Manny A. Garcia, I received a private message on my Facebook account from a dear friend and classmate in graduate school back in 1999. She was then a new teacher, single and was very idealistic about the teaching profession. In her message, she was asking for some advice on her present predicament. Her letter reads-

Dear Ate Saling,

Musta na po kau. Sencia ka na po, Ikaw ang naisip kong hingan ng advice. Kasi mukhang ang happy ng family mo based sa pictures na naka-post dito sa fb. Ate, nasa ____ pa rin ako at in charge sa third year. Konti lang students namin kaya hindi ako masyadong hirap. Saka pag non-sectarian hindi masyadong mahigpit ang admin. Kaso, super kunat sila sa sweldo. Di ba nasabi ko na po syo yung problema ko sa Tatay ko. Talagang pilit nya akong pinag-aabroad kasi daw walang mangyayari dito. Ako din kasi ang inaasahan nila. Saka yung mister ko po kasi naglalabas lang ng jeep na hindi sa amin. Meron na po akong kausap na tutulong sa akin makaalis para maging DH sa HK. Sabi po ni Tatay sila na ni Nanay ang bahala sa 5 years old kong daughter. Nahihirapan po ako magdecide. Yung mister ko po ako daw bahala. E kasi po hindi rin sila magkasundo ni tatay kasi driver lang daw po ang pinili ko. Ate, alam ko wala kang pakialam sa buhay ng iba pero kahit konting insights lang sana mabigyan mo ako. Thanks po sa abala.

Minda ( not her real name)

The letter made me smile. Since when have I become an Ate Charo or an Ate Helen or a Kuya Eddie? Haha! But I need to answer her asap. Instead of answering her through the message box of FB, I thought maybe I should blog about this. So here's my reply to your letter, Minda.

Dear Minda,

Your letter was so short and yet I have so many points to answer.

First, yes, I have a very happy family, BUT, we also have our own share of sorrows. Hindi mawawala yan sa kahit kaninong pamilya.

I am glad that you are still teaching. I told you then that you were good and good teachers are what our schools need right now. Math ka pa naman. Ang maganda sa profession natin, we can achieve excellence even on our own, independent of other people, but of course, with some help from institutions, like a graduate school, na mas makakaganda. If you will quit teaching with a low salary and become a DH with a higher compensation, do you think it is a sort of a promotion? The answer can be found in your heart. Nowhere else.

Whatever we do, whether we decide for ourselves or follow the dictates of others, is reflective of the hierarchy of values that we have. If your father's wishes are more important to you than the family you are building now, why did you get married, in the first place? And why are you still with your parents? Is there no way you could live independently? Masarap bumuo ng decision ang isang couple pag silang dalawa lang ang tumitingin sa buong picture. Hindi pwedeng isa lang sa inyo. Have you thought of how your father would look down upon your husband more if you go abroad and he stays here? What about your daughter? Kaya mo ba matulog sa gabi not knowing where she is and who she's with? Kung kaya mo yan, girl, you are made of steel. Let me tell you a brief anecdote. When my daughter and her boyfriend ( now her hubby, they kissed and made up after a few years) broke up after years of being together, my daughter was inconsolable. She slept in our room, in our bed, between me and my husband, for many nights. The tears dried in her eyes as she tried to catch some sleep. Believe me, my husband and  I were so devastated. But at the same time, I was glad I was still alive then and was with her at her most trying times. Had I been an absentee mother at the time, I would perhaps have gone mad. Being a mother is a purely personal act. No substitutes, ever. If you've never watched Anak, buy a copy now and watch it seven times.

I have nothing against migrant workers, personally, but I have certain issues with mothers leaving their small children behind. Many lives have changed for the better because of the OFW phenomenon, but more were destroyed because of the same. I know of a mother who has had an affair in Dubai while her husband also kept a mistress around here. I know of another mother whose daughter died of malnutrition because no one took care of her and her siblings while the mother was abroad. I know of still another mother who thought her children were in school only to learn later that they were out-of-school, hanging out with their friends and use their allowances for vices. There are many other horror stories about the families of migrant working mothers but now I am not sure if you have heard of them. One thing I am sure of though is that statistics show there were more sad stories than the good ones. Along this line, be reminded that no amount of success in one's job ( financial success) can compensate for the failure in the family.

I heard someone said that the OFW phenomenon is the curse of our children's times. I tend to agree. For those older than my generation, war was their curse. Wars caused families to be broken, and societies to disintegrate. That's what migrant work does to most families now. As the book I am reading now states, our government, instead of providing more productive jobs here, encourage Filipinos to go out of the country. At para me consuelo de bobo, they labeled them heroes. Perhaps, if you were single, I would not have told you all these. Because then, you would have discovered what direction to take without any mental baggages left behind. But you have a family and more importantly, you have a child. A five-year old can't do things on her own without the guidance of a mother.

As I've said in the early part of this letter, your decision will reflect your values. Your Tatay or your husband? Toys for your daughter or good times with her? Your students or the children of your would-be amo? iPhone or unlitxt with your good old mobile phone? You are in a forced-choice situation now. Arm yourself so you can arrive at an informed decision.

All the best!

Ate Saling

PS. When Secretary of State Hillary Clinton visited the country last year, she told Pres. Aquino to find ways by which Filipinos would not need to go out of the country to work. This was at the same time that she acknowledged how good the Pinoy OFW is. I love Hillary!

Random Things Bajekjek Should Know About Wowo and Wowa

Wowo is the third of eight children.
Wowa is the eldest of three children. Wowa's sister Connie died in 1967 at the age of 10. She has three more siblings from her father's remarriage.

Wowo and Wowa went to the same elementary and high schools. They were both in the honor roll while in elementary school.

Wowo finished college in 1974. He went to law school in 1984 till 1986. He went back in 1988 till 1992. He passed the bar in 1995.
Wowa finished college in 1975. She went to graduate school in 1997 till 1999 but didn't pursue thesis writing.

Wowo and Wowa got married in 1976, a year after meeting each other again after 4 years in college.

Wowo is a pure silverswan. Wowa is more diluted.

Wowo is more reflective. Wowa is the talker.

Wowo loves numbers. Wowa loves letters.

Wowo shuns fine dining. He loves to eat with his hands. Wowa eats anywhere.

Wowo is an early riser. Wowa stays in bed as long as she needs to.

Wowo and Wowa both sing very well. They both like 70's songs, The Beatles, Elton John, James Taylor and Carole King.

Wowo likes fish and veggies. He can also eat frogs, snakes, eels, birds. Wowa eats anything traditional and cooked!

Wowo is very claustrophobic, agoraphobic and glossophobic. Wowa is afraid of heights, long hours on a plane or a ship and anything that crawls.

Wowo stays in the bedroom till kingdom come. Wowa goes out as soon as she wakes up and stays in the kitchen all day long.

Wowo and Wowa love Bajekjek beyond the stars!

The Marian Connection

I named my first born daughter, Fatima, after a former student at Maryknoll College high school where I taught for one year- right after graduation from college in 1975. I am ashamed to admit now that, yes, I did not know Mama Mary that well then, even if Maryknoll (now Miriam College) was a famed exclusive, Marian, Catholic school.It was actually in St. Mary's Academy (now SMCB) in Baliuag, Bulacan that I had a deeper, more personal knowledge of Mother Mary, owing mainly to the many retreats, recollections and seminars that I had to attend to as a faculty member. But more importantly, the personal crises ( yes, that many!) I had to endure during the years I was employed at St. Mary's led me to the foot of Mama Mary's statue in the school chapel. Oh, I can't forget the many times I cried alone, first in the upper floor chapel of the old Holy Family building and later at the ground floor chapel of the newly constructed elementary school building.

I consider it a blessing to have known some RVM sisters who lived true to their vows as daughters of Mary. (There were others who didn't, sorry!) Likewise, it was a blessing to have known Marian priests such as Fr. Monic Cadiz, who was instrumental in instilling Marian values not only among student retreatants but to the teachers as well.

I was accepted for a teaching position at SMA in 1986, just after the EDSA revolution. That first year was a very memorable and eventful year for me. That year, Alex Villangca was kidnapped for ransom during one lunch break. As soon as it was reported to me by Irene Yabut, who saw the kidnapping near the church, we tried to find ways to contact the family. The Villangca siblings came at once, and because I was the one who called them using the phone of the RVM sisters, I was subjected to so many interrogations and investigations. A policeman even went to my house in Plaridel, Bulacan, which caused me so much anxiety I had to absent myself from school later. It turned out Alex was kidnapped by a public school principal who was heavily indebted. Hence, the ransom demand.

It was also in 1986 when a female third year student from my advisory class (Alex's section)was supposed to have been "sinapian" by evil spirits during class. S. Naty came and asked the class to recite the rosary. The girl was trembling and shouting and was very, very strong, with a different voice which somehow led me to believe that these things really happen. Scary, really scary.

In the elementary level, a child was kidnapped and was killed by his kidnappers when the family refused to pay ransom. He was found inside a sack thrown in a ditch somewhere in Baliuag.

Coming from Plaridel, I had mixed emotions about living in Baliuag, the new community I was to serve for the next thirteen years.

Maybe it was a sort of a baptism of fire. Maybe. But during those early years, I was still a "hilaw na Marian". The turning point for me were the early 90's when I had to ask God for many, many blessings and changes in my life. My husband then has just finished law school and was about to take the bar. During the many times that I prayed, I came to realize that one of the best ways I can ask the Son of God for blessings is through His Mother. I was not disappointed. Despite the many difficult trials my family had to face on ALL fronts, there was Mama Mary, a listener and a doer. Through her intercession, the good Lord has answered my prayers through different persons and things. Like S. Cely and S. Paula, who were both sensitive to their teachers' needs and woes. S. Luz Dela Cruz, despite her formidable character, gave me a lot of review materials for my husband. When we decided to relocate to Baliuag, since all my three kids were enrolled at SMA, God led me to a house with a very good neighbor- the Sauco family. Their matriarch, Tita Elsa has been a very accomodating and caring neighbor. The circumstances we were in during those five years we lived in Baliuag were the best years in my married life. I attributed the many miracles and faith experiences that enriched me to Mama Mary who, to this day, remains as my number one "kasangga" against all odds.

Whenever I am in an awkward situation, I immediately pray the Memorare, whether I'm stuck in traffic or I am dealing with a very corrupt government employee as an assistant of my husband. I do not leave the house without a Rosary in my bag. I know I still have a long way to go insofar as my Marian devotion is concerned, but as it is, I can say that I always try my very best to be as faithful as Mother Mary.

I do not think I could have this kind of veneration for Mama Mary had I not become an SMA employee. My St. Mary's experience exposed me to so many people, in and out of the school, who lived the values of Mary- values such as loyalty, dedication and constancy. Among my peers, Mrs. Myrna Bondad stands out as one of those with these virtues. Her loyalty to SMA and everything that it represents is awesome and remarkable. She is the one constant in the life of the school, next to the retired Ms. Herminia Demetrio. If she wishes, she could be more financially productive in another turf, owing to her superior academic achievements, but she chose to stay where she can be productively happy. The many faculty members who still sweat it out at SMA, despite and inspite of, can be said to have been inspired by the Holy Mother.

Leaving St. Mary's in 1999 was a personal choice. It was a multi-factorial decision. I felt some kind of "burnt-out" in school (I looked at lesson plans and other paper works as necessary evils then). On the home front, there was a more urgent, pressing demand for me to quit teaching. I made the decision to leave a year before I tendered my resignation. But it was a very difficult decision. Looking back, I believe that what made it easy for me to turn my back on the job I so love was the inspiration from Mama Mary's fiat- "Let it be done with me according to your word". I had this fear of the "unknown" at the time since it was unclear to me how I can be productive as a mere assistant to my husband. But then, through constant prayers, I came to realize that all beginnings start with a yes, and so from then on, Mother Mary's ultimate yes has become a very powerful inspiration and guide in my journey. I can't imagine how a 14-15 year old woman, with her openness to God's plan, can say yes at once and change the course of history. Come to think of it, was there a woman in our times who was confronted with a dilemma more difficult than those that Mary faced in her lifetime? I guess none.

My yes, my fiat, like Mary's, changed the course of my personal history. There were bumps every few miles along the way, but I am assured that I have a never-ending lifeline to my MOTHER MARY.

*Image from www.thedivinemercy.org*- Many thanks.

LoLa Pretty

Perie Jacob Inocencio Tejada was born via C-section on Monday, July 18, 2011, 7:56am at the Manila Doctors' Hospital.

I am now officially a grandparent. After deliberating with myself, I settled for LoLa as a formal address to be used by, first, my dear Jacob and later by Nad and Ann's first child whom we will welcome in February next year. The next additions to our growing family will likewise use Lolo and Lola when they address us. However, I won't be exhibiting any violent reaction if they decide to call me Lola Pretty instead!

I am amazed at myself for giving up the dreams I so badly prepared for when I was still younger. I believe I deserve a medal for being a very hands on mother to my three children up till now, when two of them has gotten married, and one still looking for the "right" one. Parenting doesn't really end, even in the afterlife. I know that, because to this day, I still ask my father's guidance when i'm at a crossroad. And I promise, I will still look after my children and grandchildren, even when I'm gone. I know I will. I'm sure I will.

But being a grandparent seems a bit scary. The transition from being my children's steward to being a grand steward to my grandchild is quite daunting. This is big time! Now I ask, do I have all the necessary wisdom and experiences to make my grandson's life better than my own, or that of his mother's? Am I at that point where I can make a successful transition from being a parent to being a grandparent? Will the constructive use of ignorance that I utilized when I became a first time parent in 1978 still be valuable and effective now? Will my senses and capabilities still allow me to respond to the unknown relative to being a LoLa?

I wish to become a silent, but attentive LoLa. One who does not interfere with my grandson's parents. Just on the sidelines- giving answers when asked and being receptive to what may happen. I want to be able to draw the line between love and intrusiveness. Most of all, I want to find the appropriate degree of involvement in raising my grandson. And when I do, I will play my role to the fullest.

Sooner or later, my grandson may ask me questions like " Why isn't God married?" or "Why do dogs always chase cats?" and all the many other "whys" in his young mind. When that time comes, I hope I am more than ready, because one thing I promise to do as a LoLa is to never disappoint my apo.

Boracay Without The Sun

If money were no object, I would perhaps be having regular trips around the country with the hubby. Maybe once every three months or even more. I've been thinking a lot lately about my failure to release the adventurous genes in me which may have come from my father's bloodline. Sometimes, I feel like it's rather too late now for me and my husband to put on our rubber shoes and go just anywhere and have a good time, feast on the beautiful spots the country has to offer and be professional local tourists. But despite my age and the limitations attendant to aging, my inner being is still raring to go.

To celebrate our 35th wedding anniversary this year, the hubby and I flew to Boracay for a four-day breather- from June 18-21, 2011. It was a fitting celebration since the 35th year is the coral anniversary, according to tradition. And where else do corals come from but the sea? The trip was booked by our very loving and generous daughter Timmy as early as February and though we were all set to go, the rains that came in mid-June diminished the excitement. We were thinking, how will Boracay look without the sun? It turned out we didn't have to ask the question- we will find out ourselves- because constant monitoring of the weather situation told us that it will be quite rainy but the low pressure area somewhere in Eastern Visayas (Boracay is in Western Visayas) won't be turning into a storm -yet. So on we hopped on a plane to Caticlan.

We checked into a very modest lodging house, Veli's Inn, mid- afternoon of June 18. It is situated between the main road that cuts Boracay island in two (east and west) and the well known, long, white beach. The rains started coming and so we chose to take a power nap first and planned to explore the island later. By 5pm, the rains stopped so we hit the path to the beach. We were welcomed by the big, dark clouds that spelled heavy rains. Despite the darkness, I felt some kind of excitement. So this is Boracay, I thought. Lovely, even without the sun. We went back to the inn soaking wet, drenched by the rains and not the sea water.

June 19 was a Sunday as well as Father's Day. All our children called to greet their Tatay a happy father's day. Think about blessings that come abundantly. You are having an r&r in paradise and your children call. What more can we ask for? I'm a late riser at home, but whenever I'm away, I find it hard to sleep. So early Sunday morning, we went to the Holy Rosary parish church to hear mass. The fathers were blessed by the priest towards the end of the mass. Afterwards, I went up to the priest, Fr. Placer, as he was preparing to go down from the altar and requested him to bless us for our 35th anniversary the next day. After a little introduction, he gladly blessed me and my husband. He also wished us long years of togetherness, which made me smile, because at the back of my mind, considering every difficulty and adversity that we faced head on, it seemed like 70 years have passed.

Because of the strong winds and the rains, the shores of Boracay was filled with dirt. I understood why there were no cleaning done on the first and second days when the wind was so strong, but when the sun came up on our third and fourth days, we began to wonder. Nevertheless, the dirt, mostly dried seaweeds, did not avert our resolve to swim, nay, dip, into the waters. The best thing about it was that we can freely roam around dripping wet, even in D'Mall.

One good thing about seeing Boracay during the days without the sun is that there are very few people around- much unlike the scenes during the peak months when one can hardly walk without bumping into someone. During those four days, there were many Korean visitors (since there are daily Kalibo-Seoul flights) but only a few of them dared to go into the waters. Bottomline, you have the beach all to yourself. (Incidentally, I learned days later that there is a local campaign in the island for the use of the full name Boracay, instead of Bora, since there is an island in French Polynesia with the same name.)

Going back home, we took a ride to Kalibo Int'l Airport, instead of our way in- Caticlan. We figured that since we're at it, we better try and see some other places in Panay island. Kalibo impressed me as a rather sleepy town, but like Bohol, it is clean all around. We still had a few hours left to explore the city, but upon learning that an earlier flight back to Manila still has a few seats available, we decided to cut our exploration short.

We arrived home around 2:00pm, June 21. After an hour of kuwentuhan with my daughter, I hit the covers at 3pm. I woke up 6am the following day.

The Class of 39

No, we weren't graduates of the pre-war years. We graduated from the Marcelo H. Del Pilar High School in Malolos, Bulacan in 1970- just when the First Quarter Storm was brewing in the country, just when the world was expressing its disgust over the Vietnam War- the war the US never won.

39 refers to us- the 39 students brought together into one section- IV-1. First, let me make a roll call of the class based on the picture above (with all due respect to the class monitor-Vicky Almazar)- Bulaong, Ibanez, Galang, San Pedro, Santiago, Santos, Mariano, Victorio, Quetua, Cruz, Aldaba, Torres, Paguiligan, Almazar, Adviento, de Guzman, Pascual, Constantino, Capule, Ferrer, San Diego, Tenorio, Toribio, De Guzman, Dela Rama, Enriquez, Clavio, Laquindanum, Clemente, Roque, Gatchalian, Santos, Aguilar, Calalang, Reyes, Mendoza, Martin, Galvez and another Santiago, who is not in the picture.

I figured it would be doubly fun to blog about this class and mention their surnames instead of their first or nicknames. After all, the teachers of yesteryears always did their power trips by calling us with our surnames. I don't know why they did, but what I am sure of is that when I was still in college preparing to become a teacher, I promised myself never to call a student by his/her surname without a Mr. or a Ms. In fact, I am remembered by most of my students as the teacher who calls them with their nicknames. It worked for me.

Our class size is very ideal. Maybe it was the reason why we all did well. The four years we spent together (except for Reby, Cristy and Ester who were with us only from the 2nd to the 4th year) were fun-filled. The anecdotes aren't that clear to me anymore, but what I remember most were the joyful days we had. I sometimes attended school without a preparation for a homework, especially in math and the sciences, but it made me feel secure that the top ten were always ready to open their notes to us (i was not the only lazy bone) just before we entered our classroom. I remember those days when we would wait outside the building for our classes to begin. There was never-ending talk- about teachers, classmates who made boo-boos, about our crushes, about anything we fancied. IV-1 was a very happy class- that much I can say now.

Reunions were organized by the time we reached our 20th graduation anniversary in 1990. A few made it then and in the succeeding class reunions or get-togethers of our section, we tried to make at least a mental list of those whom we haven't heard about. Today, we still don't know the whereabouts of Rolando Aguilar and Cristina Galang. Each time a number of us meet, we would always wish for that one special day when we, all 39 of us, would meet again and reminisce on the things we did from 1966 to 1970.

As different as we were back then, so we still are now. Twelve among us are now based in the US- Angie, Riza, Joji, Louie, Boy, Rene, Frank, Pearlie, Yollie, Nemy, Deyot and Bert. Almost all of them, except for Louie, has gone back home for short visits- an awaited moment for those of us based in the country- for such were the times when we would gather in one space to talk about things we've talked about many times before. New alliances were forged by our circumstances. Reby, Vicky and Vida emerged as the new "triumvirate" since more often than not, they were always on the forefront of each gathering. Emong and Virgie are both working for the same government agency. Virgie and Celia oftentimes attend gatherings together (and leave together) since they both live in Meycauayan. So with Dolly and Norma whose ties with Matimbo are still tightly bound. Ding and Ver, both in business and the practice of their respective professions, plus Emong and Vic, are always present in our soirees. Judge Luis still provides us with merriment and exuberance whenever he dishes out his stories- whether about the past or the present. Ruth, now a lawyer, has been gracing our parties for two years now. So does Paula. Romy V once visited me at home and has gone to a couple of reunions before. Vic is the link between Romy V and the group so that as long as Vic knows where to find him, chances are, he will be another constant in our parties.

Our muses- Angie, Yollie and Beth have not aged despite the years. I surmise that they still are the "crushes ng bayan" till today. Many among us who are still here in Bulacan seldom attend reunions. Nina, a college prof today, and Sonia, who is said to be based in UP, are a no-show in recent years. Vicky Tenorio, we heard, is not in the pink of health. We have not seen Cata and Alice for the longest time. For some time, Quirino and Romy Martin were visible, but have slowly faded away, too. One good news, however, is Fely Roque's presence in our recent assemblies, despite the fact that she, the 40th member of our class, dropped out after 2nd year high school.

As i've stated before, the details of all the things that happened during our four high school years are now hazy and unclear. But I distinctly remember that on the night of our graduation day, after I have shed off my graduation dress, I cried and cried in my room. It was such a lonely and forlorn moment for me knowing that after the two months summer vacation, I won't be donning my high school uniform again and that I will be dealing with another phase of my student life without the 38 classmates with whom I spent the sweetest, most remarkable and fascinating four years of my life.

Looking back on that night, I reckon that my tears fell simply because my journey, together with my 38 classmates in all of those four years, was one hell of a ride.

St. Anthony of Padua

Today is the start of the 9-day novena for St. Anthony of Padua whose feast day is on June 13.

St. Anthony is invoked for the recovery of things lost.

Days before, I have had this feeling that I must join the novena. It will be a daily afternoon task to end on June 13, 2011. I hope to do this from start to finish.

I need to find something.

I lost it years ago and now i am desperate to recover it.

St. Anthony of Padua, please pray for me.


* Image taken from commons.wikimedia. org* thanks...