The Long Road to Independence

We cannot defend freedom abroad by deserting it at home.  

- Edward R. Murrow

I am a Filipino working overseas, if you think working abroad and away from my family gives me an unparalleled amount of freedom. Well, I ask you to do yourself a favor and think again. Simply because I have no parents or wife expecting me to come home doesn’t necessarily mean I can now do whatever I want in this place and time. The absence here of overlapping laws and regulations, mostly prevalent in the Philippines, doesn’t constitute a ticket to do what is not prohibited. With great freedom comes great responsibility and being an OFW, this same freedom is what keeps us grounded, trustworthy and tied to our roots. Too bad sometimes, OFWS unwillingly fall as victims of their own good intentions. Some get abused, maltreated and subjected to a great deal of pressures and expectations and it’s all because of the liberty they have taken when they decided to work abroad for the welfare of the ones they loved.

When I went for vacation in the Philippines a couple of years ago, a neighbor approached me to ask some quite disturbing questions. His wife has left for Dubai a few months earlier and until that time he spoke to me, he had never got the chance to speak with her. The agency that flew her to Dubai to work as a domestic helper also has nothing much to say and he has already spent as much worrying about her. He told me that if ever I got to hear any news about her by whatever means, I should let him know. Fortunately, a couple of months later, he was able to talk to her and mirroring the sad fate of many other Filipino domestic helpers, she has fallen into the hands on an abusive and cold-hearted employer. Now she’s has back home and reunited with her family.

The Day Juke was Torn to Pieces

It’s a day I wouldn’t necessarily remember the most, but certainly a chapter in my life’s journey that I would forget the least. It’s neither the jubilant day I was born nor the triumphant day that I finished my degree. It’s the day I almost went to meet my maker but turned out to be the moment I would witness something I have never believed in - a miracle.  It’s just a handful of seconds essentially and irrelevant on its own, but I’d blatantly say it’s the longest and most horrific split seconds that would forever haunt and remind me that life doesn’t really belong to us. It’s a borrowed gift and before it’s too late – make the most out of it.

That day was a year ago – morning rush-hour, I was driving on the outer lane of a busy highway like a typical day, 90kph on the meter, crooning to some random music playing on a local radio while sight still largely focused on the road and occasionally looking at the rearview mirror to see the cars from behind. Being a neophyte driver, I am mostly defensive so I stay away from the highways as much as possible and the trouble careless and stupid drivers could bring which is quite a ubiquity in Dubai. Halfway through my destination, I heard a thundering sound from far behind and even before I could confirm in the mirror what it was, a speeding van has slammed into my car, hitting the back’s left corner. What happened next was reminiscent of those action scenes from the Fast & Furious movies, as when goons chase the good guys. The crash’s immense impact bumped me off my lane, spinning the car four times while still accelerating and traversing to the innermost lane. The car stopped within few centimeters away from the island barrier fence; thanks to an astonishing instinct that came from nowhere, a thin whisper in the air that told me pull the hand brake up. The story ended abruptly, I was saved! It was nothing short of a perfectly executed movie scene done in a single take, no director, no script and no special effects.

An Ode to Used-to-Be

It took me days to just even think of words to start this blog - so, this prelude. Kanlungan begins to play in the background to invoke a deeper sense of nostalgia.

Since I came home from abroad about a week ago to this place where I was born and raised, I've been having this weird sad thought emanating from no longer seeing the things that used to be part of my younger self. Everything that surrounds me seems to have changed unrecognizably from how they were while others have completely vanished from sight. More than the fact that they're gone, what pains me is realizing I wasn’t there when those inevitable moments had to change and unfold. I'd say I have missed a lot. Would have been easier to bear a one quick deep stab to the heart, but not this long, lingering, overpowering and sometimes haunting sentimentality.

Coming home from miles away is purposely to rekindle with family, friends and all those familiar ties. The joy it brings overwhelms the many nights and moments we're away and suddenly it feels things just get back to the olden days. At the end of the day, that very first night however, as you lie in bed looking straight to the white painted ceiling of the room, trying to recall the last time you were in the exact situation, you smile and you tell yourself nothing's really changed. But a couple more minutes staring blankly at this unadorned ball of light, it sinks in and you realize beyond the walls and its four coordinates, things could never be the same. The people, the places and the period have outgrown our own capsuled idea of how they look and where they stand. That peculiar picture frame is turning gray and old but you still look at that moment as vividly and candidly as the day it was taken.

As Time Turns A Year Older

there's a theory about time, that it is not time that passes us by,

 but we are the ones that are walking through it...

Have you ever wondered how old time is? Have you ever asked yourself when time immemorial really got started? Has the existence and tangibility of time ever crossed your mind? Scientist believe the Earth is over 2 billion years old and the bible, further on this, states that God had created the world and the universe though it never mentions when. The concept of God and time is one and the same. You can't see them by your eyes but you can feel their presence. It's a blur like a rainbow to dog but is is as real and as tangible as the chair you are sitting in. 

 As another year folded up, sure you have devoted some time to reflect on how the past year has been. Proof of that would be the numerous blog entries where you tried to recall all the things, big and small that have made the last 365 days a banner or a bore. And almost everyone have their resolutions for things unsettled in the past year and revolutions for things to make better in the following year. Our assessment mostly centered on how we have done things our way and how much has been added or taken away from the lives that we have been building for the past years. 

If Walls Could Talk

Lately I have been on a laughing spree, with cynical grin coagulating my prominent cheekbones. A masked man! A heart stabbed by my own scalpel. Behind the sweet smiles, the stubborn laughter and the unbending personal belief that I am above all else fine, the truth just hurts that I am actually losing, like towering limestone cliffs gnarled by his own height. There were people knocking at my door, but I was far away. They were inviting and yelling, but thought it’s just another fancy game. The door was closed and I have lost people that I have and I should have loved.

Between the walls, there’s a vulnerable heart and hearts that are hurting. Many hasty words and arrogant spiels were said to attenuate pride and smugness. It may seem it pleases me to hurt people who just want to take chance to love and get loved. It may looks like it, but it’s not. If only walls could talk, it would say that I have long been yearning for company, that I treasure people that comes my way and every night in my sleep I am wishing that I could bring back the moments that I have unjustly said goodbye and wishing not to have said it. If walls could talk, it would say that I wanted them more, that though I might have said I have never needed friends, I was lying then, big time, paradoxical.

OWWAt the &#@(!

I’m not into blogging anymore due to the gravity of what my new work requires. But as they say, once a blogger, always a blogger. No matter what subsequent lives you live, time will come when you’ll just have to grab your thoughts and lay it along the cyber pavements for others to see and read. There would always be experiences in our lives that just don’t need to be kept to ourselves. Success stories are most of them, you got promoted in your job, your girlfriend said yes and your son graduated from school and the list goes on as endless and infinite.

But apart from these, horrible stories shouldn’t as well be kept in the closet. Not only that sharing the same could save other people from going through the same torment or prep them up for situations born to upset and consummate, simply expressing your disappointment over matters that deserve better treatment, in itself, is a step towards making the ringleaders of these horrible things aware that they are not doing any good.

Despicable Me

December. It's the season to be jolly bitchy.

 

It’s another long weekend in Dubai, normally during these times; I just stay in the house and cut off all ties synonymous to bliss. If I am not drowning myself within the limitless bounds of the cyber universe, I am sulking in one corner, feeling pathetic, wondering how some people below my level are able to be happy and I’m not despite my excesses.  Oh well, when you come to think of it though, they are not actually good excesses; my oversized brain, innate talents, mounting pride, work experiences and finally, a bloated idea of myself. They are too heavy they always let me down. I bet not all would be interested to come close to this kind of guy, inferiority is inevitable. Having known that, I shouldn’t be wondering at all. Until such time I burst that bubble in my head, then this grim, forlorn and desolate room is where I rightfully belong.

 

The Road Home

 

How is the road home for OFWs? Two words. It’s long and it’s expensive.

In two weeks, I am one again coming back to the place where everything got started, the laboratory that has kept my blueprint and the workshop that has molded me to be the character I am today. If you think this decision entails only temporarily leaving my job, buying a ticket and packing my baggage with tons of chocolates in between, you’re dead wrong. This vacation is almost two years in the making. And again, if you’re thinking my presence will alone well absolve my family's anticipation for not seeing me in years; I have some qualms about it. Truth is, they expect more than just seeing me and I am happy to deal with it.

A Mother's Story

She comes to office at 7:30 each morning, a time at which most souls are still in bed enjoying their extended slumber. She turns the lights on; put her bag on her desk and heads straight to the pantry. She opens one black garbage bag and proceeds to each employee’s desk to collect the trash. She then wipes the tables, arranges the chairs, vacuums the carpet floors and neatly sorts the things in the desks left scattered by employees after the day's work. After making sure everything looks like what a clean office should be, she heads back to the pantry. This time, she washes the coffee mugs and removes the stains and granules spilled over the sink and around. She then refills the beans in the coffee maker and replaces the empty water dispenser with another 5 gallons of liquid all by herself. After probably forty five minutes of motion and devotion, she leaves the area and carries on to another office in another floor and again do exactly the same thing. Before anyone comes in, traces of what they called an office day has been completely vanished and just like what she always greets everyone with, it’s time for another very good morning.

Near Sighted

LONG WEEKEND

It’s an extended weekend in the UAE across all sectors. On Sunday, Muslims celebrates “Israa and Miraaj”, the two parts of a Night Journey that, according to Islamic tradition, the Islamic prophet Muhammad took during a single night around the year 621. It is one of the most significant event in the Islamic calendar, but for OFW’s like us, this day off spells gimmick and bonding, more time to sleep and relax, rejuvenate and recover from stressful work and do things you normally do without the rush in bathroom usage, kitchen schedule and of course, Facebook without fear of your boss catching you!

Love Life

Are there not enough reasons to live in this world that one would take his own life simply because he’s been ditched by someone he’s supposed to meet?  Certainly, this reality is a very sad thing to happen considering that a lot of people will give up everything just to live longer. Not only that it’s immature and selfish but this act in itself is bothersome and emotionally taxing. And in case the subject is an OFW, what comes afterwards are even difficult to bear and more painstaking to deal with.

Yesterday, a Dubai newspaper bannered a story that occurred year ago about a Filipino who committed suicide by jumping off his apartment building after an eyeball never showed up on the date when they were scheduled to meet. Not sure though of the other details surrounding the incident but I can imagine the lengthy trail of actions and documentations needed just to bring his body back home, from the police investigation down to the many speculations hounding his untimely demise, not to mention of course its bigger casualty, the unending grief and sorrow of the family he has unsuspectingly left behind.

Happy Nest

There are just two things that make people happy – those that money can buy and those that are priceless. Where is your happiness coming?

Watch for bunso, Mobile for Pamangkin, Pabango for Kuya and Wireless Speaker for Sister.

Today, I spent almost half the day outside of my comfort zone for a very special purpose ( I usually save weekend for sleeping and blogging). Nope, I didn’t attend someone else’s birthday party nor dated my friends. What pushed me to brave the heat and go to the mall is because I needed to buy some pasalubong for my family. My cousin who arrived last month for a visit is going back home next week and I thought of sending some gifts to my family. Well, that’s not exactly because I wanted to, they actually asked for it and as the kind Kuya, who am I to say no. Because I love them, I gladly obliged and  I couldn’t even tell them the truth contrary to the popular belief that seems to equate OFWs to a cash bank. All told, I still managed to buy the items as requested. Never mind the ignorance (I hate shopping), never mind the price, surely when they receive these stuff, they will be very happy.

Stolen Summer





You know what’s another thing I hate about summer? Well, not only that the mercury rise hampers our regular outdoor scenario or suffocates you in case your life leaves you no option but to brave its fatal kiss, the advent of summer reminds me that not too long ago, I was made to feel what summer wasn’t about. Yes, it’s my childhood. No, it’s my bitter, lonely and pathetic childhood. I should have moved on. Of course I did. But when summer comes, especially here in Dubai, I feel like its isolating warmth is mocking me, telling me to my face, in all coordinates of directions, in a loud wordless manner that once upon a time, I had never been a child, and in that capsule of time, I was unanimously left behind and ultimately thrown into the dark abyss of invisibility.

I am still stuck in that moment. Oh crap! I said I have moved on.

Status: Single

The Longer You Wait, the Harder it Gets???

It is so funny and actually embarrassing, when you’re a guy and thirty and single and people around you start to think something isn’t going right. Well, can’t totally blame them if things like these play around their heads, typical Filipino men have families at age thirty while some of them are contemplating on ways of getting out of it. As for those who opt to stretch the selection process, there are only a handful of reasons for that, either you’re gay and never really fancies traditional family setting, or you’ve been through miserable childhood and just making up for the lost times enjoying, or you think you’re not ready yet as other priorities in life such as careers, breadwinning, lifestyle are taking your busy time. If any of the mentioned excuses hurt you so bad you wish you're younger, then just think of the more subdued, God hasn't given you the one and as the cliché goes, it's not yet time.

Bar of Sand

It’s past 4 on a Saturday morning. I just came from a bar with a friend who invited me to have some drink and chill to some good live music. Indeed, it was fun. So much that I am thinking, if I could spend weekends this way, then I wouldn’t have to deal with perennial bore and the stab of my own bitterness seeing people happy despite their deficiencies. However, on second thought, even if I could, I wouldn’t do it either. This place is a vice, where happiness thrives with a price, bad yet addicting, guilty pleasure to a high level. Unless you come there, you will never see and unless you’re one of them, you will never know.

Give Love a Bad Name

How do you measure love? By the grandest of gift you can give? Or the length of inseparability that equates to forever? Would you be willing to catch a grenade for someone else or willing to donate your kidney to save a person’s life? There are countless ways to manifest love just as many as the stars in the universe and as many as the people hopefully wishing to find it. For OFW, the measurement of love need not to be pretentious and over the top, far nearer than what you read in paperback novels or see in any of Shakespeare’s big screen adaptations. It’s straight and simple, in the name of love; we leave our families’ back home, travel halfway across the globe and enslave ourselves with work so that come monthly, we can send money to support their ever growing financial needs.

Hopeless Place

"Love doesn't die because of distance. It dies because of doubt."

I don’t need Joe d’Mango to help me with this one. Nor do I need to talk to a friend to lend credence that long distance relationship still survives mountains and seas. It had happened before, more than twice. Too much isn't it? Too much that I no longer believe relationship of this kind would work. I was naïve then, thought it's just how it’s meant to be. I was wrong. Truth is, it’s just the way it is.

It was the longest goodbye I had ever cried.

Back to Blog

Guess what? I am so back. I know it’s been 28 million years since my last post and honestly, I myself couldn’t believe that I have let cobwebs and dust populate this abode that has been my sounding board ever since I joined the OFW bandwagon. Oh well, I bet Facebook and other social networking sites have taken a toll too on some of your old habits and indiscriminately altered some of you life’s paradigms. And in as much as we want to stay in our old ways, embracing what life has to offer can prove to benefit us more especially now that modern society has lost its will of good governance. Such being the case, it is important that we carefully choose who to grow our social connections with.

Goodnight, Not Goodbye

Every episode must come to an end so that the next can be written. Trees shed their leaves in autumn so that their leafy arms could pray by the time of spring. People and friends come and go just as seasons change even without our efforts to affect it. Change isn't a phenomenon and goodbye isn't always the saddest word.

It will never be over. Friendship is not measured by the lenght of time that we have been together. It is not bounded by the distance between us but by our willingness and thoughts to keep it. Faith is believing even without seeing it. Friendship is like the wind, we could hardly see it, but its presence we can eternally feel.

The Doctor is Out

We live in a world where a lot of medical misconceptions are already construed as facts: eating at night makes you gain weight, you should take eight glasses of water each day, touching frogs or toads gives you warts, sugar makes kid hyper, reading in dim light ruins your eyesight, doctors live a glamorous profession. These are the things that people have just accepted as true without question simply because they are told and heard repeatedly of the same thing. Sometimes even people with medical degree falls prey into these daunting task of sorting facts from fiction. But when it comes to the glam and prestige of their own profession, they know better and they'd tell you it's not.

I now work for an insurance related company here in Dubai. It's an organization that employs more than 200 people, more than half of which are Filipinos who are health-related practitioners. I remember during my an induction/orientation program two years ago for newbie's in the company, three of them were Filipino physicians who came to Dubai on tourist visa to look for work. At first, I couldn’t believe that they were doctors, well, not part that they were licensed, but what prompted them to leave the country and gamble here. Of all the people that I'd expect to be fellow OFW, doctors, together with lawyers and politicians, are the least I thought to join the search for greener pasture. I thought they are on top of the society, important people who saves lives. I was wrong. They are important people indeed, but just like many of us, their service back home is more of nobility than livelihood.