Captivated by Kalanggaman Island!

Who would've thought that in a third-class municipality, such as my mother's hometown in Palompon in the province of Leyte, there hidden an islet so beautiful and so virgin!

I've been hearing of Kalanggaman Island from my uncles and aunts in Palompon, Leyte since I was young. They would point to a small islet that one could easily see from the highest spot of our village. Then they would talk of clear waters, fine white sand, gigantic shells, untouched fish sanctuary, and of birds.

Well, for purposes of better cultural appreciation, "langgam" in Visayan dialect is not the hardworking "ant" in Tagalog. In fact, langgam means bird.

Spanning a mere 9.82 hectares of pure white sand, Kalanggaman Island has two sand bars extending on each side like a bird’s wings. It is perhaps named because of its shape. Another reason for naming such is that it can be a seasonal habitat for migratory birds or bird sanctuary at one time or another.

That's one sand bar!

One has to ride a pump-boat which could be rented via the Palompon Eco-Tourism office. It usually takes 45 minutes to an hour to get there from Palompon. I suggest you go with a big group. The bigger the group, the bigger the savings (ka-shing!).

As of this writing, the private pump-boat costs P3,000 for a capacity of 15 persons and below, P3,500 for 25 persons and below, and P4,000 for 30 persons and below.

All aboard!

I am happy that the island was finally re-possessed by the government after a trail of unlawful transfers of property. I appreciate the efforts of Rep. Lucy Torres-Gomez for revitalizing the eco-tourism of Palompon, Leyte.

According to my aunt, it used to be a neglected island where people - sadly - abuse the nature. Now, it is a protected sanctuary and guests are prohibited to litter, take sand and/or sea shells, and go fishing.

This one's at the other sand bar. Amazingly, these rock formations, although lava-like, aren't hot at noon time.

Another thing I like about this place is that not so many people can come here at the same time because of the limited number of pump-boats. We were like only 60 people in this islet during our stay here. Sulit na sulit talaga ang getaway!

All cottages cost P250.

By the way, guests can stay overnight. However, they don't have rooms or any boarding facilities. So please bring tents. They don't have electricity and fresh water. But they have dressing rooms and toilets. They also have security - as in local police.

So talagang "island experience" siya. They say that the local government will continue to improve the place. They now have kayaks and soon, will offer other beach activities. It is also a good place for divers.

This marker's new according to my uncle. But hey, we saw six dolphins on our way back! :)

But I'd rather experience the island in its most basic and raw state. Of course, you don't go to an island for hotels and expensive toilets, or night clubs and bars. I know you know what I am talking about.

You go to an island to get in touch with nature and remind yourself that you are a part of this grand creation of God. And that you have a big responsibility to be a good steward of this wonderful creation - as we all are appointed since the earth was created.

Also, I can't help but be proud of my Leytenian heritage. And of course, of my being Filipino. I really hope all Pinoys would get to experience this captivating island and be awakened of the richness and beauty of our country.

White sand, blue sea, green trees, and one proud brown Pinay. :)

For more information on Kalanggaman Island, you may visit Palompon's local government website. Or you may call the Palompon Eco-Tourism Office at (053) 555-9010 or (053) 338-2094.

Nueva Ecija's PUNO'S ICE CREAM: A Provincial Heritage

This made my day! :)

Finally, natikman ko na ulit ang "Cheese, Cashew and Macapuno" ice cream from Puno's!

The first time I tasted it was when I joined a veteran-related event in Cabanatuan, Nueva Ecija and they served us this unforgettable ice cream.

They told me it was made from fresh carabao's milk, which I easily tasted! In fact, if one would really savor it, it tastes like frozen pastillas! Sobrang creamy yet it's not so sweet - just like any homemade ice cream.

What I appreciated most from this brand is that it CHOSE to maintain its branding as a "homemade" product - unlike other local brands who gained a massive following and went "commercial;" sacrificing the quality and tradition that go with it.

Well, that of course, may be because the family could not afford to expand their business, which includes buying big ice cream makers or hire delivery vans or get more people. In their Facebook page, it was written that "the company was founded by Atanacio and Simeona Puno...to send their nine children to school." This gives us a deeper perspective beyond "business as usual."

The first time I tried it, I asked the people from Cabanatuan if there are available Puno's products elsewhere - especially in Manila. They told me that it is only available in various areas within the province of Nueva Ecija. Yes - making it a provincial heritage, a treasure you really have to go to.

That is why today, after a medical mission in Fort Magsaysay, I bravely asked my boss to make a quick turn along Sta. Rosa just so we could buy this ice cream. I needed to take advantage of tasting this heavenly creation again. Hinanap ko pa talaga sa Facebook page nila kung saan ang pinakamalapit na store sa pinuntahan namin. Ganun ako na-hook! :)

I will definitely miss this when I go to New Zealand. No amount of ice cream made from their cows' milk will take the place of the taste and heart of this Filipino dairy goodness.

Hear the Pacific Ocean Roar!

Nov 1, 2012 - - After a 14-hour bus ride from Manila to Buguey in Cagayan Valley, this is what welcomed me and my family:

Heavenly Father, the Creator of this wonderful world and the universe, thank yooooouuuuu for the chance to hear the oceans roar. So that's how they worship you, eh?

Tanggal ang pagod ko dun! :)

ANGONO's HIGANTES: What's with the Swag?

Before mascots and Cosplay, the Filipinos during the Spanish colonization period already had higantes. Not the one to be left out of this famous festival in the artistic town of Angono in Rizal, I took the advantage of taking photos with these colorful gigantic papier-mâché (French for "chewed paper") that are paraded on the streets on the 23rd of November.

Giants got my back!

But I have always been curious why all these giants have their hands on their hips with heads held up high. It would have been more interesting to see them in various hand gestures and head tilts.

It turned out that Higantes Festival has an interesting origin:

Angono used to be a huge Spanish hacienda. In an overt effort to convert the Filipinos to Christianity, the Spaniards prohibited our forefathers to celebrate our own festivities. As a protest, our ancestors took advantage of the only festivity they were allowed to celebrate - the feast of San Clemente, patron saint of fishermen - by making giant papier-mâché (or an effigy) that look like the oppressive hacienderos.

Nowadays, the higantes portray the 13 barangays' industries and personalities (which explains the sash that read: Paredes Funeral. Haha.)

Standing mighty proud with the 'higantes.'

Source on Higantes' history: www.meetmanila.com

Homemade Pancakes (The Walang Hilamos Edition)

Small circle, small circle... big circle!!!

Good morning everyone!

This is one of those days that I woke up hungry (okay, that's most of the days). From bed, without washing my face or brushing my teeth, I asked Nanay (who was still in bed) to make pancakes. I have been wanting to eat pancakes since we have an abundance of maple syrup at home (that's good reason enough to want pancakes, right?). But I think she was still tired from yesterday's baking. She didn't respond.

So, I went back to bed. But, after a few minutes, she asked me to get up and help her make pancakes! (Mothers are the most self-sacrificing beings in the planet.)

It turned out that she still wants me to do it. She just gave me her very old, fusty notebook which contains the recipes of our well-loved foods (actually, this notebook would pass for an heirloom).

AND, I'm gonna share it with you! This is the "walang-hilamos edition" since all the ingredients are readily available at home, very much suited for those who just woke up one morning and want pancakes:

1 cup of all purpose flour
2 tsp of baking powder
1 cup of milk (evaporated or powder - whatever you have in your kitchen)
1 egg
water (estimate, depending on your desired consistency)

Just sift the dry ingredients and blend in the wet ingredients (wet doesn't sound good). And mix.
Pour into non-grease pan and wait until it turns golden brown.

You may opt to put butter and sugar with the pancake mixture.
Since we have a Tatay who is diabetic, we decided not to. Instead, we generously smothered our pancakes with slabs of butter and teaspoons of maple syrup (we have many at home - bleh).

Make sure to have a younger sister who can assist you so you can eat pancakes ahead of everyone. (See photo. Thanks, Beng.) Have a happy day ahead!

When God Tells You To "Wait Around"

We live in a world where things have to happen or else, nothing will happen. If it doesn't happen now, it will not happen later.

But what if God tells you to "wait around"? What will you do?

I discovered this verse from Isaiah 30:18:

But God's not finished. He's waiting around to be gracious to you.
     He's gathering strength to show mercy to you.
God takes the time to do everything right - everything.
     Those who wait around for him are [blessed]. MSG

Isaiah 30 is actually God’s message for Judah, the southern kingdom when Israel split into two. Judah was a stubborn nation. It made agreements (in businesses, personal relationships) without inquiring the Lord. These wrong moves piled up and added more sin. As a result, this had brought them shame and embarrassment - with no help given to them.

So, the Lord told them the verse above. And He asked them to wait around.

Picking up from the entire chapter, these are the things God is inviting us to do while waiting:

We inquire the Lord. We seek the Lord when we make decisions and plans. (vv. 1-5)

We should never, never get into something without asking the Lord. Whether that be a career move, a financial decision, or a personal/romantic relationship. Seeking God's guidance should always be our first step.

We listen to the prophets. We listen to the voice of God. We want to hear God. (vv. 6-7)

It is just unfortunate that this generation does not want to talk about God anymore. We find God corny, jologs, and even offensive. We even feel God is “blocking our path.” (v.11) We refused to accept the Lord's message for us and, instead, want to hear cruelty and lies (grand illusions of ourselves and what makes us happy). (v. 12) Frustratingly, a lot of us will be successful. But this success will be hollow, "like high walls with many cracks in it" (v. 14) unless we hear from God.

We accept God's will. (vv. 15-18)

The Lord invites Judah: “In repentance and rest is your salvation, in quietness and trust is your strength, but you would have none of it.”(v.15) 

When God tells us to wait, He is actually giving us time to check our decisions. He wants us to reconsider things. He is giving us a second (third, fourth, and perhaps even more) chance so we will not make the wrong choices.

Waiting around? Take heart: God is taking the time to make everything right.

The Boy with an Oversized Slippers

I was on a bus to Batangas pier last weekend for a music enrichment class with the young people of Mindoro. As we were waiting for passengers in Lipa, I saw a little boy who was walking on his way to school wearing slippers big enough to fit his father's feet.

I closely looked at the boy, his small frame and tiny feet, and his over-sized slippers until I lost sight of him. I can't help but ask myself: wasn't he embarrassed or even uncomfortable about his slippers? Self-pity, perhaps?

Oftentimes, life has become too big to wear. The things we see on TV, internet, gigantic billboards lead us to believe in "larger-than-life." We try to be wise, visualizing ideals for ourselves. But in reality, we see nothing.

The prominent 20th century Christian author, Oswald Chambers wrote, "Simplicity is the secret to seeing things clearly." That weekend, I saw things clearly. It was a picture of a boy at peace with himself. The boy walked steadily and purposefully. He was going to school, and thank God, he had slippers on.


Abruptly, Jesus broke into prayer: "Thank you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth. You've concealed your ways from sophisticates and know-it-alls, but spelled them out clearly to ordinary people. Yes, Father, that's the way you like it to work." (Matthew 11:25-26)

"Ang Surot"

(Photo from:  http://enelym001.wordpress.com/tag/dubai/)

Dahil Buwan ng Wika pala ngayon, nais kong magbahagi ng isang tula na pinamana pa sa akin ng yumao kong lola noong ako ay tatlong taong gulang pa lamang (ibig sabihin, 23 taon nang nasa kukote ko itong tulang ito).

Noong bata pa ako, binibigkas ko ang tulang ito (with matching actions pa!) tuwing may bisita sa bahay. Pero sa pagtanda ko, minsan ko lang ito naibahagi: nung nanghingi ng malupit na joke ang propesor ko sa isang pagsusulit katumbas ng karagdagang sampung puntos. Salamat naman, natuwa siya.

Kaya, heto, pampasaya lang:

Ang Surot

Ako'y napaupo

sa lumang bangko

Lintik na surot

Sundot nang sundot

Sa kakasundot,

ako'y napa-utot

Kawawang surot

namatay sa bantot

Hayaan niyo, sa susunod, may video na ng actions. Haha.

Maligayang Buwan ng Wika! 

Wala Yata sa Planetang Ito ang Lalaking Para sa Akin (A Repost)

Meet my boyfriend. :p

"She's taking her time making up the reasons
To justify all the hurt inside
Guess she knows from the smile
and the look in their eyes
Everyone's got a theory about the bitter one..."

Kanina, nakakita ako ng isang estatwang astronaut. At siyempre, kagaya ng mga nakaraang panahon, hindi ko pinalampas ang pagkakataon na magpakuha ng larawan sa taong galing sa buwan.

Buwan. Heto na naman ako. (O heto na naman kami?) Ilang buwan na rin akong nakikipagsapalaran sa ngalan ng pinaniniwalaan kong tunay na pag-ibig. Paminsan nga, pakiramdam ko, kontrabida na ang papel ko.

Papel. Siguro masyado na akong nagiging ma-papel. Pero, hindi naman din siguro masama kung magsalita ka sa mga taong nakakasama mo araw-araw, yung mga kasama mo sa pinaka-pangit at mababang panahon ng kanilang mga buhay. Katulad na lang nang kapag nakanganga sila sa pagtulog, magulo ang buhok kapag bagong gising, kapag mangungutang sayo tuwing kulang sa pamasahe, kapag nag-away sila ng nanay niya (na nanay mo rin), kapag wala silang makasama sa isang mahalagang event na gusto nilang puntahan (kahit alam mong aabutin na naman kayo ng madaling-araw at sa may Quiapo pa yun). Siguro hindi naman masama yun.

Masama. Masama ba akong kapatid? Masama ba akong kaibigan? Masama bang ipaglaban ko ang alam kong nakabubuti para sa kapatid at kaibigan?

Kaibigan. Lahat ng mga kaibigan ko, tinatanong kung kelan ako magkaka-boyfriend. Kesyo masyado daw akong pihikan - mataas ang standards. Nakaka-intimidate daw ako - masyadong strong personality, outspoken, at matalino.

Bakit? Kelangan bang magpaka-tanga para ibigin? Wala na bang lalaking makakatapat sa kadaldalan ko at likot ng isip ko? Kelangan bang babaan ko ang panuntunan ko - ang sariling pagkatao ko - kasama ng paniniwala ko sa Diyos, sa pamilya ko, sa sarili ko, para lang umibig at ibigin?

Siguro nga, may karapatan silang mainis at magtanong. Wala yata sa planetang ito ang lalaking para sa akin.

"But somewhere in a private place
She packs her bags for outer space
And now she's waiting for
The right kind of pilot to come"

- Savage Garden, To the Moon and Back

Why Filipino Gospel Music?

There is a good reason why I am so passionate in promoting the ministry of music, performing arts, and/or praise and worship here in the country: I am a product of one.

It was in 1999, when I was beginning to feel an insatiable void inside me to the point that I was adhering to the principles of absolutism (yeah, I was 13 then!). I had been living a highly ethical and upright life (at least according to my parents and the society). I was a consistent honor student and had never been involved in any troubles. I had it all coming for an ideal good daughter.

But I was not happy.

I unintentionally attended a worship service one morning of July, thinking that it was my uncle's birthday celebration. (My uncle is a pastor of the church where I am part of now.) There, I was intrigued with the worship leader's way of singing to God.

Why does it seem that the worship leader knows the God to whom she sings for intimately? 
Are you just more than a concept of good and bad?
Can it be possible - that I can know You intimately, God?

Those were the thoughts running in my head as I awkwardly stand amidst a congregation of people who were likewise singing and raising their hands passionately.

Two Sundays after that, I attended Pastor Rommel Guevara's worship concert called "I Am Healed." At the end of the concert, he invited people to come and receive Jesus as personal Lord and Savior. Already caught by what I saw in the worship service earlier, I responded to the invitation.

That was August 14, 1999. And my life was never the same. I felt liberated. I knew I have a purpose. I believe that I was not just created to follow a set of rules - but to freely speak and sing of God's love and hope to all.


What if Ptr. Rommel didn't take his calling seriously?

What if you, fellow music minister, didn't pursue what God has intended for you to do?

What if Gospel music, as it is a struggling work now, just fade away in the Philippines?

I may not be able to thank Pastor Rommel enough for how he has unknowingly touched my life, but one thing I know and will hold closely in my heart and even guard my life with: I will not allow this generation to pass without giving it a chance to experience the saving grace of God through anointed and excellent music - just as it was given to me through the life of one Filipino Gospel music minister.

with Pastor Rommel Guevara

Back to Zero (Kilometer)

My family doesn't really participate in national holiday celebrations. But for the past years, my Tatay had been prodding us to go to Rizal Park (formerly Luneta) because he wanted to personally witness the gigantic Philippine flag raised during the Independence Day.

As one of those first generation of Filipino seamen who work abroad, my Tatay spent most of his life outside of the country. But despite that, he was my first teacher in nationalism. I remember him buying Philippine-inspired caps and t-shirts  and emblem pins of the Philippine flag whenever he arrives from his tour of duty. He would always say that, of all the countries he had ever been to, nothing compares to the Philippines.

Tatay: "Hindi kaya napapagod na yang kalabaw na yan?"

Going back to Luneta with him and Nanay was thus nostalgic. I think the last time I went there with them was in 1990. I can't exactly remember anything from that "pasyal" aside from the well-kept pictures of my sisters and I in various landmarks in the park - just like that kalabaw. I don't know, but I was just plain happy when I saw that good ol' carabao like it is a good friend. Haha.

Now, as an adult and a government employee, roaming around the park of my childhood was going full circle for me. It was even made more meaningful with all the flags flying and kababayans at the park who were there to celebrate the nation's independence day. 

See the Philippine flag emblem pin on my chest? 

There were soldiers, police, families, groups of young people, lovers (haha), art enthusiasts (like one man who did nothing but blow bubbles to provide a festive feel at the park). And though they may seem to be just plainly enjoying themselves, I would like to believe that this park provided one of the most important landmarks in their being Filipinos - just like what it did to me.

I was a kid when I last visited this place, but Rizal Park became a big part of my consciousness as a Filipino. This has led me to pray for my country, study hard so I can contribute to nation-building as much as I am helping my kababayans, and eventually work in a government agency. It has also led me to sing songs that speak my love for this country. 

If you haven't really had the chance to visit Rizal Park, I hope you will. Bring your family or friends along. And discover for yourself why, in spite of the challenges and hardships life in this country brings, you still can't help but love the Philippines.

Mahal ka namin, Pilipinas!

Happy Independence Day!

The Giver of Families

Last Valentines' Day together.

While alone at my Lola's house in Leyte, I was looking at Lolo and Lola's pictures - the one wherein they celebrated their 50th wedding anniversary and the one wherein they spent their last Valentines' Day together.

I was particularly looking at Lolo Dado. He was never the perfect man. He used to be a violent drunkard who spanked his children really hard, he should have expected a death full of hatred and remorse from his children - and eventually (I suppose), his grandchildren.

But the love of God changed everything about our family. 

________________

Tonight, I was just so overwhelmed with the food and presence of loved ones during a special dinner we hosted for my cousin's birthday and as a send-off for my uncle's family who will be going back to London in two days.

I was particularly enjoying my two cousins, Nicko and Ninin (ages 5 and 2 respectively), whose playfulness and youth simply made me happy. They have been staying at our home for three days now and I have been looking forward to go home from the office because of them.

Ninin was adorably a younger version of me. This morning, I was fixing her hair. She was behaved and was totally feeling it. They say that combing the hair is one of the most affectionate acts a mother can do to her daughter. (Okay. I was feeling it too! Haha.) Afterwards, she just embraced and cuddled me. It was one of the most wonderful feelings - a child finding comfort in your arms. :)

I was actually starting to think of having cute little ones like her someday too.

________________

Re-reading Exodus, I stumbled upon one particular verse, which I have not given attention to when I first went through it. It says:

Meet Arla version 2010 aka "Ninin"

"God was good to the nurses (who helped Hebrew women give birth and let the boys live despite the Egypt's king's order)... Because the nurses feared God, He gave them families of their own." - Exodus 1:21 (notes mine)

God is the One who gives families. And tonight, I just have to go to my room and personally thank God for giving me a family such as what I have now.

My grandparents aren't perfect. So are my uncles and aunts. My parents aren't either. So are my siblings. Not even me.

But I pray to the Heavenly Father - the Giver of Families - for His love to swell in our hearts just as the waters cover the sea. Let Him continually save our families, the present and those that will be added in the future. Let Him be our endless love. For without the Lord's goodness I do not know what kind of family I have now. And when the time comes that I have to build a family of my own, there wouldn't be any wiser thing to do but that to carry on the virtue of fearing Him and putting Him first - for this is the very virtue which led Him to give those nurses families of their own.

She Sucks "Sihi Shells"

Eating is one of the "leisurely activities" you can do in Leyte, primarily because the food that you encounter here are not the usual food that you get to eat in Manila.

One of those foods that I have become so fascinated with are "sihi shells."

Yummy and outlandish!

For people by the sea, this is instant food. According to my Nanay and Lola, if my Lolo was not able to get a good catch of fish for the day, they would just go to the seashore and look for these beauties. In fact, during my vacation in Leyte, whenever I would get a quick morning dip in the sea, I see a lot of mother-and-child tandems looking for sihi shells.

Your unlikely utensil: the pin.

These shells are best cooked with coconut milk and malunggay leaves. But, a lot of people don't know how to eat sihi shells. Most of them thought that they will have to suck it (like what you'll do with golden apple snails or suso). So, here's my after-lunch video on how to eat your sihi shells (I'm so sweaty here!):

Until next Leyte food blog. ;)

Almost Arlon

He came to our lives when I was five years old. My Nanay and Tatay just went to Odiongan, Romblon for a week and when they came back, they have with them a ten-day old boy.

The inquisitiveness and curiosity in me kept on asking Nanay who was the baby. She said he's our brother. I may not understand then that women should get pregnant first before they can have a baby, but I clearly sensed that Nanay is not telling the truth.

He's not my brother.

At five, I was insisting that he be named Arlon. During his baptism, the priest asked for his name. And I was throwing tantrums as I shout, "Arlon!" I don't know why I did that. It might be an instinct that I carry on the tradition of our names, which started with the first two letters of my father's - Arthur. But he was already given a name by his real family before we get to do that for him. Then, I heard my Nanay said, "Joel."

Later, we were told that he's my first cousin - the son of my father's brother. He bore the same family name as we do. But he knew - like we all knew - that we are not siblings.

Today, he turned 22. And I can only be thankful for him for letting us be his family. I would never know how painful it was when we introduced him to his real parents and siblings. But not once did he rebel or get angry at us. He took on the responsibility of running errands for us as Tatay's right-hand and quietly faced the challenges of growing up as a lone teenage boy in the house.

I am personally grateful because he has given me a chance to experience what is it like to have a brother. He said that I am his favorite sister. But whatever kindness and love I probably have showed him would never be enough for the role he willingly accepted when he was only 10 days old.

Just now, I discovered that Arlon is the male version of Arla. And when I wanted to name him such, I was actually declaring and accepting that he is an extension of my being.
 
Happy birthday, Joel. And though you may not bore the name as I wanted, I now understand why you were named such: "The Lord is God." You are a wonderful realization of that.

Joel giving his Father's Day gift to Tatay

Why National Holiday Celebrations are a Major Turn-Off

I would need to post this on this blog because I am writing now not for myself, but for other people.

I call this the Mt. Samat Ordeal or generally, Why National Holiday Celebrations are a Major Turn-Off.

I initially wrote this as an appeal to the Presidential Security Group which, I would like to believe, is doing its best effort to safeguard the President. However, their "efforts" should be done in the most well-thought of and practical manner - not at the expense of the people, particularly the old ones (most especially, our veterans).

The arrangement of not allowing public transportation to go up Dambana ng Kagitingan is understandable. But with the "unexpected" number of guests for the 70th Araw ng Kagitingan, the strategy of having people ride official shuttle buses up the shrine turned out to be a repeat of the Death March.

This is the line at 10 AM. Some were here since 7AM.

Under the sweltering heat, our kababayans waited to ride the shuttle buses, which apparently were not enough for the number of guests. So, the buses made several trips back and forth, which also caused some clutch to overheat and brakes to lose.

We were "promised" that all of us will be brought up to the shrine. But as time goes by, there were MORE people coming. Since those that came early were "overtaken" by those who came later, lines were disheveled and soon, people were pushing just to get a ride.

People were pushing to ride a bus.

In all of these, the members of the PSG were not "facilitating" or "guiding" the people. It could have been avoided if they have made simple devices such as guidelines for queue or just people who would man the crowd. Yes, they were "fixing" it when panic suddenly built up. But when the people broke loose, they went away and hid under the shade of the tree.

I could not blame the people for their lack of discipline, although I would want to. We came in at 7AM and the crowd was still under control. But when it built up, I think the PSG was not ready for it.

My parents and I were not able to go up the shrine and listen to the President's speech. Despite the PSG's "promise," not all of us were able to go up. Although we came early, we were not able to ride the bus because my father wanted the veterans to go in first. He refused to take advantage of his kapwa, despite his big built, and instead, gave way to the elderly. That was a shining moment for my father. So, my mother and I decided to not just go instead.

If she was my lola, I would advise her to watch the program on TV instead.

As a first-time participant, I was really disappointed. Not because I was not able to go. But more than that, seeing other people suffer because we were not able to do our job well (I am a government employee myself) makes me feel disillusioned at the very holiday that celebrates and commemorates valor, integrity, and love for country.

No wonder nationally and historically significant celebrations are a major turn-off for our kababayans - it was not produced for them (only for the few elite). Unlike TV shows, wherein researches are done to understand the demography of its audience, in government programs, bahala ka sa buhay mo.

The unexpected number of crowd is no excuse. It is, after all, the 70th anniversary of Araw ng Kagitingan - a national holiday.

Happy Araw ng Kagitingan to us, still.

God bless the Philippines. Please.

How About the Unholy Weeks?

(This is a re-post from my last year's Holy Week reflections. Unfortunately, it's still applicable this year.)

Recently, there has been so much issue on how most Filipinos spend their Holy Week. That, instead of putting on a pious reflective attitude, most prefer to go to the beach and be in revelry.

Why is that? I believe Holy Week was institutionalized to make people stop from their very occupied and self-centered lives and to make them ponder on what God can do about it. And there's nothing wrong with that. Finally, the "Church" has created a way for people to notice God. As if the entire Christendom (which comprises of approximately two billion followers) suddenly stops and all that was shown and talked about was Jesus and His death. So, after 352 days, we eventually see Him again: "Oh, Jesus, there You are!"

Believe me, I am in no way against going into solitude and just simply talk to God and be in touch with yourself and the One who created you. But, as the book "Right Here, Right Now" says:

"The very process of setting aside a certain time as 'holy' automatically categorizes all other times as somehow 'less holy.' If the 'holy' belongs to God, then who owns the rest?"

They can go to the beach all they want and drink and be high for seven days during Holy Week. Or they can be inside a prayer cell or church and pray all week-long. There's really no difference - as long as they still treat the other weeks as unholy and forget Jesus all year-long.

Not the one to 'cast the first stone.'

How holy could it get?

Photos are from our visit to the Walkway: Reflections on the Stations of the Cross at Bonifacio High Street.

When Failure Comforts

Last night, I checked on the website of the UP College of Law to see whether I passed the Law Aptitude Exam (LAE) or not. I didn't.

And I can't. Make myself cry or feel sorry or be in despair. I felt nothing. It wasn't heavy. It wasn't light either. As if a giant cushion was placed on my entire being to shield me from anything that would harm my soul.

I never really dreamed of becoming a lawyer, although there are suggestions or prodding from people to be one since I was five years old. But that did not mean I took the exam nonchalantly. For two weeks, I would burn the midnight oil reading LSAT reviewers and I would forego some of my activities to accommodate my preparations for the exam.

So, when I can't see my name on the list of the UP LAE passers, I know I should feel sad. But instead, I felt comforted.

Now, I am not a fail-proof person. But for the many, many years I have avoided failure. I never want to fail. I'd rather not do anything than fail. So, whenever I choose my battles, I would make sure I would get those that would work in my favor. I know, that's some kind of PRIDE. (Can you smell it?)

However, I am slowly realizing that my world is shrinking and I am becoming stagnant. I am turning into a caveman who's missing out on a lot of things simply because I'm afraid to get out. 

So just recently, I decided to let go. I committed my life not to my ego nor my pride, but to wherever God would lead me and whatever God would want me to do. So when He told me to take the UP LAE, I just did. (There's actually an inside story here: UP LAE is usually administered every November. It was August when I heard God telling me to take the UP LAE. I was explaining that I would be busy at work since it's our agency's anniversary on September and that I wouldn't have the time to review. Come October, I heard God telling me to file my exam application. I said it would be very late. But when I opened the UP College of Law website, lo and behold, the exam was postponed to January of next year. Then I heard the Boss said: "So, do you have any other excuses? I have moved heaven and earth for you.")

Failing the UP LAE is actually the second failure in my "adult" life. I also didn't make it to my first reality-talent show auditions last year. And if these failures had done me good, it is by giving me comfort. How?

Failures highlight your strengths by revealing your weaknesses. 

Now at least I know I'm not really good with numbers and logic (as if I really have to rub that in and prove it by taking the LAE!). And that I'm not fit for the life in courtrooms and countless debates.

I'm a creative networker. I love integrating one thoughts with another, hoping to create new syntheses out of the theses and anti-theses that come. I'd rather save the "relationship" rather than winning an argument. I know conflicts give me dissonance and I am deeply affected when there are misunderstandings. Thus, I focus all my energy on restoring "harmony" around me.

Yes, I need these double failures to affirm what I have probably been underestimating all along.

Failures lead you to the right path by blocking one wrong option.

I broke the news to my family immediately when I got home. All of them, particularly Nanay, felt relief upon hearing the "sad news." She saw how difficult it is now for me to manage my time because of work and ministry - what more if I add one more heavy load. 

I know. I wanted to do a lot of things. But I only have one life! So, failures provide the necessary focus that I need. Now, I can see things clearly.

I was actually telling friends that I don't know what to be more nervous about: passing the exam or flunking it. Because I certainly know in my heart that I don't want to be in law school. I was just obeying, remember?

Then, the Lord reminded me that my taking of the UP LAE is really not about a test of my intelligence, but a test of my obedience. And there's no shame in obedience - whether you fail or not. 

Men and Their Wars

Since my ladies (Nanay, Ate Tessa, and Aryl) were having their own rendezvous for the day, I ate lunch with my Tatay and my cousin Kuya Evan. Over lunch, we talked about World War II and other war-related stories and eccentric ideologies. 

 

I was the one who started it. It was probably a mental hang-over from talking to a historian, Art Villasanta, at work last Thursday and from watching John Carter last night. But I did not intend for my lunch dates to be interested. So I was surprised they were. Men would just eat and go. But this noon, they stayed.

 

This made me (the lady-in-waiting) realize three things about men:

 

1. They’re very interested in wars. I know that’s too simplistic of an inference. But there’s something about men that lit up when they talk about “world history,” grand strategies (double-crossing included - haha), artillery and ammunition, power and dominance. They have this ability to explain the “world and its pursuits” like it was just my Nanay telling me how to cook adobo. They take you to a grand view of things, making you feel that they know and thus, you’re safe with them. Talking especially to Tatay, who circumnavigated the world many times, about countries and political territories gives you an impression that the world is just like marbles.

But take this topic to my ladies, it would shift to who shall cook dinner later, if there are still eggs in the fridge, or if I have let the clothes hung dry this afternoon.

I love my ladies. But I believe men are given this capacity because they were created to lead and subdue the earth. It was wired in them. Take away from a man his passion – the very things he love and want (like his family, career/vocation) and you will not only incapacitate him. You will turn him into a wayward man with no care in the world, causing destruction not only upon himself but the people around him.

 

I cannot forget that day when my Nanay asked Tatay what he will do if one of his daughters were harmed (like killed or raped). Tatay immediately yet sternly replied: "Makakapatay ata ako."

So, I think it would be wise for a woman to find a man with a cause. Better yet, find a man with whom she shares the same cause. Life would be much easier and happier if you support one another's cause, rather than both of you fighting over your own – not unless you want to stage another world war.

 

2. When they want or love something, they would. Men, at least those who are part of my life, are easy to decipher. When they want something, they want it. When they don’t, they don’t. They could just get up and put the dishes on the sink after eating the meals I served them. (I hope you read the “I served them” part well.) But they stayed. That means they want to talk.

 

If a man wants you, they wouldn’t “play games” or “feel the tide.” That’s good news, right? You wouldn’t have to spell out his every word and action. If a man wants you, he would prepare real hard and do what it takes to get you. And no, you don’t have to do anything to lead him on. You just don’t stop him. He would get the point.

 

3. They appreciate women who talk sense. I’m not saying you talk about wars so men would listen. But they are pleased when they can be levelheaded and discuss things that are in their minds and hearts. It engages them further to their “cause.”

 

So, that’s about my lunch this lazy Saturday afternoon. Haha.

 

Oh, did I mention I watched John Carter last night? One of his closing lines says: “Go find a cause. Fall in love. Write a book.”

Before I end, I know my blog falls on the International Women's Month, and I mean no disregard for ‘women’ with my title. Believe me, I have been a staunch advocate of women and children’s rights and I have my own ideologies of women empowerment. Women can have their own wars too. Until I realized that I can only be empowered if I stick with God’s design for me – and that is, to be a suitable partner for a man He will give me. Together, we will be fighting our wars with God as our King and Commander-in-Chief.

Happy International Women’s Month everyone. :)

A Girl Named "Promise"

Last night's Gospel Jam was a very deep experience for me.

You see, my father named me "Arla" because he wanted all his children to get the first syllable of his name - Arthur. But many years ago, a good friend gave me a gift which gave deeper meaning to my name. It says there: Arla may be a variation of Arlene, which means "pledge" or "promise."

Last night's Gospel Jam was all about the promises of the Lord. I've always been a promise-believer. I don't know if it's a good thing to always be trusting and to always believe in the goodness of man. Some people call me naive and childish for I do not entertain thoughts that would complicate things. I believe simply because the person says so. Plain and simple.

But as you get older, you realize things are not simple. Yet, I still choose to view things as they are. I don't know. But this childlike faith in me tells me that when all else fails, that when people turn their backs from you, that when they don't do things as you expect them to, and worse, even do things that hurt you, I know Jesus will NEVER do that to me.

And if there's anyone who failed, it was me. I had pit stops. I had detours. I chickened out. I slacked off. I wandered.

I was just crying and crying when Eman Cauriz sang "Amazed" by Desperation band. (I just have to go a little personal here, because Eman and I go way, way back as music ministers in high school.) I don't know about him (peace, Eman! :D) but as for my then 14-year old self, I knew in my heart that God is going to use me and my gift in singing (okay, let's add speaking) to bring greater glory to His name.

And now, more than a decade after, hearing Eman hit the keys and belt out those notes was just a very mighty yet gentle reminder that God will fulfill what He has promised.

Yes, it's been a loooong time. And it might be futile to still believe. But there's a reason to believe the Lord when He gave us a promise: He does not lie.

And just like the original composition of another good friend Jemima Manalo-Pecardal says, this promise is anchored on His love, a love that can cover multitude of sins. A love that can cause the filthiest to be pure. A love that restores broken dreams. And yes, a love that resurrects lives.

On top of all these, being with fellow artists who keep on despite their personal struggles and issues of unbelief is powerfully encouraging. The joy of Sunday Radio is undeniable; you know it's more than what the world offers. So is The Flaming Youth and the Livingstone Band. We play and make music because this is what we were created to do.

Also, hearing Anni Karola from Finland say that she is here in the Philippines because it is "her calling" as a music missionary - just that - is overwhelming. Her and Jeff Lucas' talents could earn so much in the world, but they chose to play for the One who called them.

And it even gets personal when Faith Caronan, a UP Singing Ambassador and a fellow artist from Shine for Jesus (I'll talk about this more soon) sang with me and Jemima. It just brings back fond memories when we were just starting out as gospel artists.

Indeed, that night, God is just giving me another reason to believe and hold on to His promise, just like what He always does whenever I see a reason to stop. He does not get tired of reminding me and giving me another reason after another reason to believe Him. Oh, this love!

And though there are times I do not hear, He still sings for me. Though I'm unaware, He dances for me. Though my eyes are blurred, He continues to paint a beautiful image of me - the one that He planned many, many, many years ago - long before  He placed in my father's heart the name to which I will fulfill and forever live by.

The Art of Walking in the Rain

I will probably never master the art of walking in the rain.

This morning, I was looking at the pants and shoes of those whose fate I likewise suffer: walk in the rain to work. Yet, unlike their perfectly clean pants and dry shoes, mine was already blotched with mud and half-permeated in rainwater.

Today, I also feel like walking in the rain. Others are just good at pretending. But I can't. My shoes and pants show.

There are happy days. And there are gloomy days. The wise teacher of the Book of Ecclesiastes said many, many years ago:

For everything there is a season,
   a time for ever activity under heaven.
A time to be born and a time to die.
   A time to plant and a time to harvest.
A time to kill and a time to heal.
   A time to tear down and a time to build up.
A time to cry and a time to laugh.
   A time to grieve and a time to dance.
A time to scatter stones and a time to gather stones.
   A time to embrace and a time to turn away.
A time to search and a time to quit searching.
   A time to keep and a time to throw away.
A time to tear and a time to mend.
   A time to mend and a time to speak.
A time to love and a time to hate.
   A time for war and a time for peace.

What do people really get for all their hard work? I have seen the burden God has placed on us all. Yet God has made everything beautiful in its own time. He has planted eternity in the human heart, but even so, people cannot see the whole scope of God's work from beginning to end. So I concluded there is nothing better than to be happy and enjoy ourselves as long as we can. And people should eat and drink and enjoy the fruits of their labor, for these are gifts from God.

We all have rainy days. And I will never "enjoy" it. No one does and no one will. But I pray for faith that, at least, I have allowed the rain until I am drenched with nothing but love. For even if I trip or get nastily uncomfortable, I know the sun is just around the corner.

Let the Heavens Cry for Me Instead

Today is Lolo Dado's second death anniversary. His death was the first in our immediate, closely-knit family circle. Many say that I inherited my singing voice from him. So remembering his death now ignites an aching desire to bring to a greater level the gift he shared with me.

I am re-posting this poem, which I wrote after we sent his remains back to Leyte. Before he died, he had been wanting to go back home. As I watched his coffin pushed into the van that would take him to the airport, the swelling emotions overtook my exhausted body - I would rather write than sleep or eat.

Then the rain poured. And the words flowed:


LET THE HEAVENS CRY FOR ME INSTEAD

Let the heavens cry for me instead
And moisten the crumbling dirt you become

Let the birds sing the song of grief
My voice, I hope you hear

Let the raindrops fall and kiss the earth where you lay
Oh, if only I could rescue you from decay!

I will take you home.
But you are home.

In Memoriam: Eduardo G. Encienzo Sr.

March 06, 2010


You will always be remembered, Lolo Dado. I know you are home. We love you.

Last touch. February 18, 2010 at VMMC.

God as a Partner

Now, this does not have anything to do with "single-blessedness." I am actually not comfortable with that term because, really, even marriage is a blessing on its own. And that's a separate blog I will write soon, if given an inspiration to do so. Haha.

I write because with all the things that I have been doing lately, the truth about God as a partner all the more holds true to me.

This week saw me being stretched to my limits. I was beating deadlines after the other, dealing with demanding clients at the office, researching and reviewing songs, singing at after-office events (which are mostly Valentine Day-related, causing additional stress I think), attending to my need of restoring my equilibrium by writing a blog, and preparing for our church's annual national convention and general assembly.

It's been a while since I had squeezed every second and risked every ounce of my strength. I think the last time I was this busy was in high school. And I missed it. But I think my body didn't.

Last Friday, I was invited to sing at a couple's night of a church in Marikina. I went straight to the venue after a difficult day at the office. I knew I was tired yet I still have to belt (not sing!) two songs. I was yawning and yawning before my turn to sing came. When it's finally my turn, there was a problem with the sound system. The microphone's grounded and it was not amplifying my voice the way it should and needed to be. I was tired and the last thing I needed was an uncooperative sound system.

I'm thankful that fellow Papuri and DZAS artists, Ate Haydee Bernardo-Sampang and Ate Gloria Manriza-Cambra, were cheering me up. So in an abandoned attitude, I smiled, cracked some one-liners, and sang.

Miraculously, it was one of my most relaxed, open, and smooth renditions of the songs "Healing" and "Ako'y Binago Niya."

The next day, a friend sent me a message asking me what happened to me last night because the Lord had led him to pray for me then.We haven't gotten in touch for a while (almost a year now) and yet, here is a person whom the Lord tasked to pray for me that night. And to think it was not even a "desperate" situation then!

Jesus said in John 15:15:
"I no longer call you slaves, because a master doesn't confide in his slaves. Now, you are my friends since I have told you everything the Father told me."


On April 24, 2010, Jesus gave me a personal message through that verse:
Arla, I have so long wanted to show you these things so we can work together. I want us to work together and make glorious things happen for the pride and honor of our Father! 

Like a good friend, Jesus is a sensible partner. He knows what is in our hearts and what we need at the moment. He is also a reliable partner. When He called me in this task of communicating His love through singing, He has never put me to shame. (With the exemption, of course, of times when I did not carry out my side of the deal like when I eat high-risk foods such as sweets, fibrous fruits, and nuts. Or I did not practice or rested well.)

And it's just unfortunate that a lot of us would rather do things on our own. Yet if only we allow Him, He will not just open vocal cords or have someone pray for us. He will open doors, run the extra mile, and make all things possible so together you will bring glory to the Father - as every life in this planet should.

Maturity Beyond Our Wildest Dreams

I was browsing through my "timeline" and previous blog posts in my old "site" to take my mind off from a number of things I have yet to do. When times like these strike, I knew I am low on inspiration. Well, looking back on old notes and photos can be both encouraging and frustrating. It can be encouraging when you see how far and better you have become. On the other hand, it can be frustrating when things do not change.

Change. God has been inviting me to a lot of changes lately; changes that I have painfully and tearfully accepted  because, even if it was totally against my will, I believe my decisions would lead me closer to Him. I initially dreamed of becoming a "brilliant broadcast journalist and a contemporary Christian singer roaming around the world preaching about Jesus" (taken verbatim from our high school yearbook published in 2002) when I was 16. Now, ten years after, I am a full-time writer at a government agency, wherein part of my job is to produce and co-anchor a one-hour radio program for the war veterans twice a week. Meanwhile, the closest to becoming a contemporary Christian singer was through Shine for Jesus 2005, a nationwide search for a new generation of Gospel artists. And the farthest I have ever been to northerly is Hongkong and southerly, Palawan.

Lala Nostalgia: the 5-year old me and the 26-year old me

This evening, I can hear God clearly echoing to me that line from Paul's letter to the Corinthians:

"When I was a child, I spoke and thought and reasoned as a child. 

But when I grew up, I put away childish things." 

I guess it's time to give up childish dreams - dreams that are products of my infinitesimal brain and limited vision of what is ahead. Not that these are insignificant to God. But that He had bigger and better things in mind. And the only thing that's keeping most of us from experiencing the grand things He has set for us is when we hold on to the past and keep on dragging with us the things that should be left behind.

 For Paul adds:

"Now we see things imperfectly, like puzzling reflections in a mirror, 

but then we will see everything with perfect clarity. 

All that I know now is partial and incomplete, 

but then I will know everything completely, 

just as God knows me completely."

Completely. I delight in the truth that our God - no matter how imperfect, frustrated, twisted our ways could be in our attempt to follow Him - had already laid out everything for us even before this world began. I believe it was not presented to us in full because we would not have something to look forward to when we already know what's in the future. And this would invalidate faith, which is having hope for things yet unseen.

Besides, there could be no more bitter state than having nothing new to wake up to everyday, or learn or improve about yourself. This is why our God challenges us to new things, shaking even our longstanding foundations and beliefs about ourselves just so we will not be complacent.

For this is true faith: that we are transformed and renewed by Him and His Word every day. And the challenge here is that we never give up on Him. For God will keep on changing us until we are able to reach maturity beyond our wildest dreams.


P.S. Special thanks to Ate Joy Cruz, for sharing her 28-year old self to the world. It made me realize a LOT of things. (read here)

Cooking Unto Yourself

This carbonara has been perfected
for five years. Why didn't I stop trying?
My family's eating it for New Year.

I still cannot get over the extremely salty dish my younger sister cooked last night.

Not that I am rubbing in the fact that I am the only one, from among us three girls, who inherited that tradition of yummy cooking in the family. But I just couldn't understand why someone else's cooking could be so bad, no one - not  even the person who cooked it - can eat.

This brings to mind (and stomach) the importance of empathy. Yes, that quality of a person that is vicariously aware of and sensitive to the feelings of other people.

I used to tell those who ask me why I'm good at cooking that it could have been an innate talent or interest that I unconsciously developed from my mother - reasons that will forever erase their dreams of becoming better cook. Now, I know what to answer: cook something that you yourself will eat.

That tip will not require any special skill or taste-sensitive genes. It just simply asks that you do something because you yourself want it and that you want it so intensely, it overflows from your heart and you want others to share in it.

Who is a good cook anyway? Is he the one who graduated from expensive culinary schools and use techniques or ingredients that you can't even pronounced? Or is she the one whose food does not only satisfy your hungry stomach but your starving heart?

I'm fixing myself a left-over rice and sardines from the fridge this morning. I sautéd (that's a culinary term!) it and served it with omelet. Simple, yet done with consideration for one's self and for others (particularly Nanay who is always keen on budget). This is what every cooking should be.

Jesus said: "Do unto others as you would have them do unto you."
I say: "Cook unto others as you would have them cook unto you."

Happy Saturday cooking everyone!

P.S. So, did my youngest sister eat what she cooked? No. She didn't.

New Home

I've been writing since I was 7 or 8, a time when the only correspondence that this world had were letters and phone calls. Yes - no emails, chat, video calls.

Phone calls then were expensive. So, my father (who was an overseas Filipino worker, a seaman specifically) wrote to us. That's the only way he could get "in touch" with his three daughters, who looked forward to receiving letters from a man whom we only knew through his writings then.

Looking back, I am forever grateful that he painstakingly took the time to write each of us. I learned the value of words memorialized, of emotions and feelings seen through the flow and blots of ink, and of hearts sealed in envelopes.

I used to have a home in cyberspace but it has slowly turned into a "marketplace" (if you're into social networking sites, you know what site I'm referring to - hee). So I'm transferring to a new home, where I can share my love in words the way my Tatay did it.

And this first blog is, of course, dedicated to my first writing teacher: my Tatay.

Letter-writers, journalists, diary-keepers, lexicologists, etymologists, you wordsmith - come on, come all. :)