"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