Flashback: March

March 14 - Trash Day
The office launched again its twice-a-year trash day, in time for spring cleaning. Our floor was divided into three teams and, as always, the production team won. They didn't have as much "trash" as we do, in my observation, but they seemed to have thrown in a lot of old magazine issues and other stuff that aren't pure paper. I believe we have been warned not to dispose of old issues, but well, they got away with it. And even compensated for presentation, arranging their "trash" to look like some misshaped human (or clone, whatever).
The winner was announced during a merienda break, during which Armando, the general manager, also announced that two of our colleagues were leaving and this day was their last day: Marian, VM of Electronic Components, who has been with the company for more than two years, and Evelyn, a senior graphic artist of Electronics Engineering Times Asia, who has spent the past 10 years of her working life in GS.

March 15 - Latin Heat
Marthe and I watched Ballet Philippines' season presentation Latin Heat at the CCP Little Theater. It highlighted modern ballet and the fast beat dances associated with Latin music. We got the set of free tickets from a former officemate, Chie Sales, who is now with Museo Pambata and gets complimentary passes to cultural shows. She couldn't attend this one and asked around through Marco if anyone was interested.
During the intermission, I saw a large man who looked familiar in the lobby of the theater. He was sitting waiting for someone. And apparently the someone arrived, his wife and daughter. Only when they walked back to the theater did I recall that it looked like Fred Blancas, the Marketing Manager of IMI, Ayala Corp's EMS company. Our department, EBU, has visited IMI several times to tour their factory and talk to the executives. My cousin, Michael Hansson, currently heads the design and engineering department of IMI. I emailed Fred the week after to ask if he was there, and he said yes, they were watching the ballet too. His daughter is taking up ballet lessons in CCP.

March 17 - Itchy or not itchy
I met Mama, Lyn and Marthe in Landmark to buy Marthe's graduation dress. When I arrived, they had shortlisted their choices to two really pretty ones. One of the two dresses had a plastic cover over it. Marthe tried both. The one with plastic looked too dressy and sophisticated for a school graduation and she said it was itchy at the armpit part. The one without plastic was perfect. So we asked for a new and clean stock of the second dress, which we chose. It arrived with plastic cover. At home, I hung the dress and asked Marthe if she liked it. She just stared at it and nodded uncertainly. I got worried so I asked again. Finally she blurted out "it's itchy." I freaked out. Why didn't you say so?! She said "I told you it was itchy." But you said it was the other dress that was itchy! She said, "The one in plastic is itchy." But I said this is the other dress, the one without plastic. And she said, "But that one has plastic, it's the one that's itchy." Hahaha! I laughed so hard. Just because the new stock of the dress had plastic on, she thought we chose the previous one with plastic that she fitted and was itchy. Haay, my daughter is still a baby. She still forms an opinion by association.

March 18 - DVD Swapping Day
Today is DVD swapping day. Monch sent an e-mail yesterday that whoever had DVDs to spare can bring them today and tomorrow and swap it for other DVDs. Some people, including me, brought DVDs and VCDs today. A whole plastic bag from me, mostly old stuff, to give way to the new ones Mel brought home. In return, I got a VCD of Mona Lisa Smile, and an assurance from Jamie that she will bring Bee Movie for Marthe, and from Louise that she will reserve the CSI Season 7 set for me.

March 19 - Holy Wednesday, half-day work day
I swapped more DVDs and ended up getting more than I can probably afford to watch during this 4-day break, including the ones Marco and Monch kept passing to me because there were no takers. So today, I brought home THE CHORUS (a French flick), COPYING BEETHOVEN, THE WEATHERMAN, BEFORE SUNRISE, BEE MOVIE, FINAL CUT, FINDING NEVERLAND and part of CSI-VEGAS' SEASON 7, which I think I'm I've partly watched before. Louise has also generously lent her AVI copy of I AM LEGEND and ATONEMENT, which she claims has no cuts. This should more than make up for what Mel and I 'lost' last Saturday. We mysteriously lost the I Am Legend DVD but we couldn't explain how, because everything else was intact.
I didn't join Len's birthday lunch at Joey Pepperoni but took the half day off to do some errand. Anyway, I've given my message to Len for her gift. Mel picked me up at lunch and we went to see Marthe's school director. We already paid Marthe's graduation fee and got her pictures and program. But the director again issued a paper receipt. We should remind them to issue official receipts.
I spent the rest of the day sleeping and reading. What a relaxing afternoon.

March 20-23 - Holy Weekend
We spent the rest of the week doing spiritual activities. The whole family heard mass on Holy Thursday at St Andrew for Washing of the Feet ceremony. I noticed that they used some of the same "apostles" as last year's but they were quite grown up than they were last year. We listened at home on TV to the Seven Last Words on Good Friday. I don't remember what church this was held but it was in cooperation with ABS-CBN, and I liked their style and format of choosing three speakers: one priest, one lay servant (such as a nun or active church leader), and one ordinary or non-religious person. They presented different perspectives of what the Words meant in their life and how it related to their day-to-day tasks. After each Word, a family was chosen to say a prayer, and a singer (professional or not) rendered a song to end the session for that Word.
On Holy Saturday, Mel, Marthe and I went to Sta Ana for Stations of the Cross. The Stations were permanently placed outside. They were a little abstract, with only parts of Jesus' face/head showing but each position indicating what station He was in. The stations were designed to be part of the front yard of the Church so that devotees can do the Stations of the Cross without disturbing a mass or other churchgoers inside. Late Saturday night, I busied myself filling Marthe's Easter egg shells with candies and taping up the shells to maintain the egg shape. We hid the Easter eggs in strategic spots.
On Easter Sunday, we heard mass at noon and had lunch at home, where Marthe excitedly searched the eggs. After finding all of them and realizing they contained candies, she began searching for the rest of the candies that didn't fit into the eggs. Hahaha!

March 24 - Quote from Rech
For whatever reason, Rech embarked on her thinking marathon over the 4-day weekend and came up with this first thing this morning: "Am I a small fish in a big pond, or a big fish in a small pond?" Quite an Easter enlightenment for my friend. :)

March 25 - More graduation shopping
I met them again in Landmark to buy the rest of Marthe's graduation paraphernalia. We found a pair of dainty white-and-pink sandals to go with her dark fushchia blouse and skirt that we previously bought for her dance presentation. We also bought her socks. However, there weren't many nice black shoes for the white graduation dress. So we proceeded to SM. On the way from Glorietta to SM, we saw a stall that sells hair and head bands and bought a transparent curvy one that looked plain in the hand but was really nice on the head. Good, the attire is almost complete. At SM, we found a good pair of Barbie shoes (how apt!). Not too plain, not too heavy, not very fancy, not expensive but doesn't look like it will last only two uses. Cool! We were done in an hour, the shortest shopping spree I've ever seen for a school necessity. Hehe.

March 29 - Marthe's Graduation
Today is Marthe's graduation and she looks very pretty in her white dress and black shoes. The head band we bought looked surprisingly good on her head. It was transparent with a curving design that stands out against her dark brown hair when worn.
When we arrived in the school, I was shocked to note that almost all the girls were wearing makeup. For a pre-school graduation?! You've got to be kidding me! But after a few minutes, I realized that Marthe would probably end up the palest on camera if she was made to stand with all those colored faces, so I applied a bit of Clean and Clear powder on her face and a light lip color. I didn't bring my eyeshadow compact with me so that's all I could apply. Mel laughed and moved his head from side to side unbelievingly when I pulled Marthe to a corner to apply the powder and lipstick. "Kayo talagang mga babae!" he said, grinning.
With her toga and cap on, and the corsage provided by the school, Marthe blended with all the graduates. Mel accompanied Marthe onstage in getting her diploma and I accompanied her in receiving her medals (my choice, of course, hehe). She got 3 medals for: Most Artistically Inclined, Most Responsible, and Most Well Groomed.
The children were fun and funny to watch. They were formal in their graduation garb and started moving around freely when they changed to their dance costumes for the presentation. Soon, you can already hear some crying and complaining and some parents have started to carry their bored and irritated sons or daughters. One child even refused to go up the stage during the graduation song. Unfortunately, she was the daughter of the PTA president so she just had to go, against her will, because her mother wanted her to. While the rest of the children were singing their graduation song, Yesterday's Dream by 14K, she was crying silently in front. Poor little girl. Oh well, children will be children! Why do we force them to grow up?
We celebrated with Shakey's pizza, Buddy's pancit and Shopwise roasted chicken.

March 30 - Drawing/painting session
Marthe attended the National Bookstore summer session of drawing and painting today at Glorietta. We almost forgot about this and was attending mass when I remembered. We rushed to the place and was in time for the start of the session. The theme was summer and they were made to draw and color scenes of summer. Marthe's pictures were very detailed compared with other children's drawings, which were big but very general. And some even tended to copy each other's ideas. But of course my daughter is unique, hehehe. Even if she didn't win a prize for her drawing, I think (and some other parents think too, based on their comments) her pictures had more insight and expression.

Cebu Diaries: Beach Party, May 4

My mother woke me up very early today. She was trying to send an SMS to my uncle, Tatay Gody, but Smart doesn’t appear to have any signal anywhere in the house. She wanted me to text him. I looked at my mobile phone. It has run out of battery during the night. Struggling to keep my eyes open, I reached into my bag for the phone’s charger.

Unfortunately, the old house had equally old electric sockets and my charger did not work in any of them. We had no choice but to wake Lyn and ask if I could borrow her mobile phone. Lyn’s network was Talk n’ Text but it had no signal inside the house, too. Lyn told me I can use her phone for as long as I want while her SIM was unuseable.

Mama’s message to her brother: She has a budget of P1,000 for the beach lunch, to celebrate my sister Shers’ birthday. Can he facilitate lunch preparations, with a menu that includes, preferably, chicken adobo (Cebu style), lechon, and whatever else is edible for all of us, including Tita Yorn and Tito Arne who are such health buffs?

I sent the message. Tatay Gody answered shortly after: He has already asked some of his “servant” boys to buy 2 kilos of lechon, 2 chickens for adobo, and a kilo of fish for grilling. He also suggested chicken nilaga (stew), but my mother said it might be difficult to bring dishes with soup to the beach, as we would need bowls. So he removed the chicken stew from the menu, but he said he will still kill a chicken and have the blood drip from the neck, as part of a birthday tradition that my grandmother (their mother) used to do.

Each time somebody from the family/clan celebrates his/her birthday, my lola would have a chicken killed and have its blood drip to the ground, and she would whisper a prayer of protection and guidance for the birthday celebrant. The old folks believe that the dying chicken will absorb the illnesses and badluck of the celebrant. Looking back at how my mother’s family has progressed—from a poor family of five children with two school teachers as parents to a now growing brood of journalists, artists, medical practitioners, engineers etc. here and abroad—I guess there is nothing to lose in following this tradition.

Uwak Beach was about 2-3 minutes away from Tito Tony’s house. We decided to go there on this Sunday to celebrate Shers’ birthday, even though she was in Madrid, having her own celebration. But we also went there, of course, to have a decent beach swim. Not your backyard swimming pool type or the manmade “beach” resorts so popular in Mactan island, but a real beach. One that goes through a high tide and low tide, you know.

Uwak Beach is so-called because of the bird that flies over and descends on its shores. It is not at all similar with Boracay’s white sand beach. It has coarse gray sand on the shore and fine sand underwater but it deepens gradually. Many children go to the beach to swim everyday, they say. Enclosed wooden cottages with toilets line the upper part of the shore.

We were lucky that Kuya Tony has his own cottage in Uwak. When we arrived at exactly 12:00 noon, his son, daughter-in-law and grandson were there, just finishing lunch and packing up. We begged them to stay but they had other appointments after lunch. Marthe couldn’t wait to go out into the water. For the entire time I was applying sunblock on her, she kept on egging me to swim, swim, swim. When we did, the sun was in its meanest. But thanks to SPF 50 sunblock lotions, you can never tell that we stayed in the beach during the most taboo period: 12:00 to 1:00. It would have been longer had Tita Yorn not called us for lunch, as Marthe is threatening to go home if I don't let her swim some more. We practically half-dragged half-carried her out of the water , fearing the effect of the sun on her skin.

Lunch was great: lechon, grilled fish, native chicken adobo, fish kinilaw, omelette consisting of small fishes, seaweeds with a nice vinegar dressing, makopa fruit, and many other stuff we don't often see in Manila. Of course, we again had puso rice. I forgot all about my half-rice diet at lunch; this is more nutritious anyway.

The rest of the afternoon was spent chatting lazily in the cottage. Nobody dared go back to the water, except for the boys and girls that Tatay Gody seems to have "adopted" and given shelter in my Lola's house. If I don't know my uncle, I'd think he was running an orphanage. All these young boys and girls living in the house are supposed to be "helping out" with household chores but Mama said she didn't see a dirtier house than theirs. You would think that the people living there were handicapped instead of 10 able-bodied, energetic individuals (or was it 15?).

Anyway, they had a heyday in the water and in partaking of the lunch. Seeing them dress up and go in the late afternoon made us guilty. This once-in-a-while privilege is rare to these children....and to many children in Balamban who have never set foot outside of their own community. My mother and her siblings were lucky that they had Tatay Gody as the eldest. He was the one who had grand plans for his siblings, who fought that they would study in UP instead of just in schools in Cebu City. He strived to bring them all to Manila and find their destinies, have satisfying careers, and learn life in the capital -- away from the comforts of their little house in Sto. Niño St.

We went back to the house in Nangka for shower and rest. Then we capped the day with a mass at 7pm in the poblacion (the lungsod, as the refer to it), the main business area of Balamban. Tito Arne and Tita Yorn didn't join mass (they were not churchgoers and didn't put much trust on the higher Being for survival). We left them at my Lola's house, where they will meet their lawyer to discuss some things about the lot they purchased in Nangka, and they hiked back to the church in time to meet us after the mass.

We all went back for dinner in Nangka, which was again cruelly interrupted by brownout. We all forgot our flashlights in the room and we fumbled for matches to light the candles. It was raining outside too, and the spectators of a basketball game that was on its peak in a nearby court succumbed to silence. It was a perfect setting for a horror movie. And what do you know? As if on cue, Kuya Tony launched into a series of "horror" stories, that consisted mainly of the kapre as its main character. Hehehe. Tita Yorn and Tito Arne were chuckling and trying to act as devil's advocate (because Kuya Tony clearly believes 100% in his story). I smiled. Although I believe in elementals and other beings outside of our human dimension, the stories began to sound less scary as his narration went on. At the end of the storytellling, everyone was ready for Turkish coffee, which we sipped in the sala with doors open in the patio.

We all retired long before the lights went back. Marthe went into a monologue of Mickey Mouse Show conversations (to lullaby herself to sleep, I realized later), using her fingers as characters, and then she just went silent. When I looked, she was fast asleep.

Cebu Diaries: The Nangka house

A relative of a distant uncle fetched us at the airport. After maneuvering through what they claimed to be a rare traffic jam, we passed by SM Cebu for groceries and supplies. We had planned to pass by Morales St, where my cousin Ate Mafette lives, but we chanced upon her and Kuya Eric in SM's carpark. So then we decided to go straight to Balamban, my mother's hometown. The trip would take about 45 minutes to an hour via the transnational highway, a road going through the mountains, which cut the regular trip by half. We munched on barbecue-on-sticks and puso (steamed rice wrapped in coconut leaves), and Marthe had hotdog sandwich, as our van sped through the curving roads in the chilly mountain air. With Marthe and I singing, and Tita Yorn and Mama chatting, the 45-minute ride was a breeze.

Tita Yorn arranged for us to stay in Tito Tony Mendoza's house in Nangka (a barrio in Balamban). On the way there, we passed by Mama's family home, where her eldest brother, Tatay Gody (as we call him) is now based. I noticed that there were too many children who went out to greet us but I didn't recognize any of them. Tatay said they were neighborhood kids who came to watch TV every night, but I later learned that some of them were nephews and nieces of a woman who stays in the house as well. Who she is and why she "lives" there is a big question.

Tito Tony's house in Nangka is very lovely. Tito Tony is a retired doctor who has lived in the US for a long time and has decided to retire here. He bought several pieces of land and houses in Nangka and in Liloan (his hometown) and refurbished them. He bought this Nangka house from a perennial gambler, a widow who has inherited large properties that were sold one by one to finance her vice.

The Spanish-style house was made of wood and was several feet above the ground, allowing for some kind of activity underneath the floors. The space was open so dogs, chickens and cats can walk through and rest there. The house itself had a large sala, dining room, bedroom, and windows with sliding capiz panels. The sala opens to a porch and balcony, and the bedroom also has sliding doors leading to a veranda/balcony. Antique chandeliers made of mother-of-pearl hang in the dining room and porch. There was a small altar in the sala and in our bedroom. And there was a TV set, with a set-top box, a component and I think, a DVD player, but am not sure and didn't care to ask. After all, I was here to be away from all the electronics.

The property was surrounded by mango trees on all sides, as it used to be part of a mango plantation. Kuya Tony, the husband of Tito Tony's cousin, who is now the main caretaker of the house, planted flowering bushes and orchids in front of the house to give it a more cozy ambience. His garden in front, just underneath the porch and balcony, was a welcome sight to us stressed city sleekers.

We had beef stroganoff, brocolli with dried fish, salad of lettuce, cucumber and wild tomatoes (also known as cocktail tomatoes), and puso for dinner. Halfway through dinner, the lights went off. So, brownouts are not limited to Manila. Kuya Tony, Tito Tony's cousin-in-law who so graciously acted as our tour guide, driver and host, fetched some candles. Candlelight dinner in an old house isn't bad, reminiscent of the days when there really wasn't any electricity yet. But when the brownout goes on for more than an hour, boredom sets in.

Marthe and I had a bath and sponge bath, respectively, before going to sleep. The bathroom and toilet was fairly midsized but very adequate. It has a shower cubicle and lavatory and it flushes well. It is, by the way, a double-door bathroom. One door is located in our bedroom, the other door is the entrance to the same bathroom from the hallway. When we entered the bathroom, we had to lock the hallway door first so others can't enter. And when we're done, we have to make sure we unlock it or others won't be able to enter at all. This setup appears to be ingenious at first, until you realize how complicated it becomes when one is forgetful.

Long after Marthe has dozed off, I lay in the huge four-poster bed (without curtains), marveling at the raw beauty of this house and how blessed we were to have relatives generous enough to lend it. This is beginning to look like a real vacation. It's going to be.

Cebu Diaries: Out of Manila, May 3

We were one of the luckier passengers of Cebu Pacific today who got onto our flight on time. Most of the other flights were delayed--why am I not surprised?--especially those bound for Caticlan, Davao and General Santos. No wonder we hardly found seats when we entered the boarding area at quarter before 12:00 noon. The boarding room was jampacked (with stranded passengers of the GenSan flight, which was scheduled to leave at 11:00 but had to be postponed until 12:45pm).

This was too much for my uncle, Tito Arne, a Swedish national who married my aunt, Tita Yorn (my mother's sister). Let me say a few things about him. He's used to schedules and doing things on time; a little delay isn't little at all for him. As soon as we seated ourselves, he started walking around looking for lunch and checking the flight information screen every 15 minutes, which didn't really change much. After a series of walking-sitting-fidgeting, the screen rewarded Tito Arne with a "Now Boarding" message right beside our flight number. And guess who was the first in line? Hehehehehe.

We boarded our flight at 1:15 and arrived almost 3:00 in Mactan Airport. Marthe was wide awake and active throughout the flight, probably because of the Meclizine tablet (generic of Bonamine) we gave her one hour before the flight. She felt very grown-up, strapped in her own seat. She enjoyed half a breaded chicken sandwich (which cost P100, and they don't even have enough to offer. I hated the pastries I had to buy in place of the sandwich.) and plenty of flavored Mentos.

It was also Lyn's (Marthe's nanny) first plane trip and I half-expected her to get dizzy. But she's not the dizzying type and she survived it. In fact, she was looking eagerly out the window from three seats away as the plane made its ascent. Unfortunately, we were given seats by the plane's wings and there was totally nothing to see, until the plane dipped slightly as it made its final turn towards the Cebu International Airport.

FLASHBACK: March 7 – Petals and thorn

It’s been a while since I’ve posted. Been too busy…or should I say been too busy considering why I’m not doing anything? Well, some tasks have been downsized in the office lately and I often find myself without something work-related to do. So I try to build up on my knowledge base while I’m having this downtime at work. Can’t do anything personal there, though. Work is for the office as personal things is for the home. So that’s how it usually is. I’m an obedient employee. =P

At home, on the other hand, I’m busier than a bee, trying to fit as many DVDs as I can into one day, in between household chores and daughter disturbance. Not to mention husband disturbance. The addiction is quite new to me, as I wasn’t really a movie person when I was a student and even when I started working. (Of course, there wasn’t DVD at that time) With DVDs easier to get these days, however, Mel brought home bags of DVDs that can last us a whole month or more, given other distractions. Still, I managed to borrow some other movies from officemates so it’s like….hmmm, I should tell my husband to consider putting up a swapping shop like DVD swapping, book swapping, magazine swapping. There has to be guidelines and quality requirements though. I can’t swap my good magazines for one that’s missing a page or so.

Anyway, to make up for the lost days, here goes:

FLASHBACK: Friday, March 7 – Petals and thorn

It was a special day because I went to Malacañang with my family to view the relics of St. Therese of Lisieux, more popular as “St. Therese of the Child Jesus” or “The Little Flower” (This is the picture of young Therese).

It was an invitation from the sister of an officemate who works in Malacañang. This was the second time the relics visited the Philippines and it had been traveling all over the country for weeks. The first time it was brought to the country, it was displayed in the National Shrine of the Sacred Heart in Makati, near San Antonio Village, where I used to live. Back then, I had been too busy with work, I never had the chance to peek even if it was just a few blocks away from home.

So now I thought, since the opportunity presented itself again, I might as well take it, even if it meant I had to rush out of the office at exactly 5:30 and make sure we weave our way through after-office Friday traffic and get to Malacañang by 6:30pm. The viewing starts at 7:00. I’ve been to the Palace before so I know that security checks take a while.

Talk about temptations, the challenge for this day began on Thursday. Regie, my boss, called Nina and me over for an emergency meeting. The other magazine, Electronics, needed help with its edits as its VM had to take a one-month emergency leave. She had an emergency operation in the ovary, a cyst ruptured and had to be removed. Nina and I took one report each and the deadline is on this day, March 7. So that means I had to deliver this report before taking off for the relic viewing.

I did, photo-finish. My family, except Mel who had work and couldn’t join us for the viewing, was already waiting for me outside the office. We took a taxi to Malacañang. Through the driver’s skillful maneuvers along sidestreets and alleys, we made it to the Palace area at past 6:00, only to find out that the relics had been delayed (it was coming from Bacolod, and was still preparing for takeoff at this time), and that entry of guests was temporarily stopped. So we walked to the church of St Jude and stayed there for about half an hour. By the time we returned, they were ready to let us in.

Security checking took about 15 to 20 mins, especially since the guards were a little slow in checking names from the pre-registry list. Once inside the grounds, we were made to sit outside while awaiting the arrival of St. Therese’ relics. After another half hour, activity picked up in the grounds. A group of people who were dressed in the same style arrived, and we assumed they were members of the choir. A man in chef’s apron was walking around from one area to the other. (‘Were they serving food?’ Nina’s sister had asked, via text message thru Nina. I said there was no sign of hot plates or buffet setups but this chef- aproned man was a sign that something was cooking.)

When we sensed that many new arrivals had began settling themselves in an indoor venue filled with chairs (which appeared to be the main viewroom), we asked one of the employees if it was indeed the viewroom, and if we could already go inside. He said ‘yes’, so we went and picked chairs that gave us a good view of the front as well as of the rest of the room. Nina texted that they were already by the main gate of Malacañang, but were still eating snacks, as her little nephews and nieces were there. One nephew broke a tooth and the mother had to look for a dentist. I told her there were no more seats inside, but there were plenty at the grounds.

Less than 10 minutes after we moved inside, there was a commotion in the grounds. The relics had arrived – together with its entourage of people. My brother who, at that time, was standing outside to ask where the restroom was, happened to be standing exactly where the relics would enter. He managed to snatch a handful of rosebuds from the bed of the relics’ glass-and-gold case and he distributed it to us later.

Meanwhile, all the people inside the room had stood up, preparing to welcome the relics as it enters. I think two or three people were carrying the relics’ case and a woman at the back was holding a pail. Every two steps, she dips her hand into the pail filled with rose petals and throws it over the relics, allowing it to fall to the floor. When we began to move towards the pail, she said we should be picking the petals that had already fallen from the relics, and not the petals that were still inside the pail. We did exactly what she said. A funny sight of very well-dressed people bending to pick up fallen petals in the aisle! Oh well, what the heck. Pick. Pick. Pick.

The relics were laid on a stand in an inner viewing room, surrounded by white roses (Therese was already a nun in this picture). The inner room was accessible through the bigger room, where we are, and through an opening from the corridor outside. A St. Therese devotee, who has been tasked to record all the happenings and updates related to St. Therese in the Philippines, began to talk about her and the Society and told us anecdotes during the relics’ last visit in the country. While he talked, some priests set up a table for mass in the front part of the room. Suddenly, there was a slight commotion outside and we could vaguely see a group moving towards the inner room. The people behind us were whispering: “where is she?” “she’s over there” “she’s here?”

I looked up at the aisle and saw only a tall woman in white top and black pants moving hastily to the front. Her attire kinda reminded me of the PSG. Then it dawned on me. I glanced quickly at the inner room, and finally saw who they were talking about. She was looking at the relics, standing tall in her full 4ft and some inches. She was about my height, I realized excitedly, and at that moment, my hatred of her seemed to have vanished and was replaced by pity. Despite the image of strength and nonchalance she adopts, her “smallness” was very evident on this day as she stood there without her entourage of cabinet members and loyal liars, with whom she made that stupid ‘walk of unity’.

President GMA slowly turned around and walked towards her seat in front of our room. She glanced ‘shyly’ at all of us and nodded and smiled a few times at some individuals she probably recognized from past acquaintances. Without her sidekicks, she appeared weak and small, someone you’d instinctively protect from her enemies even if you didn’t know her and her background. I looked down at her footwear. Three-inch heeled wedges. Ha! I’m taller by a few inches. It made me soar. I may be working my butt out and not getting as much as I wanted, and she may be lying in a bed of roses and getting all she wants, but I’m taller than the president, so I have something she doesn’t have – the few extra inches. Whehehehe.

My disdain of her came back. Who wouldn’t hate her and her husband, after all this circus of lies they’ve been doing in connection with the National Broadband Network? The mass began, and it was officiated by the chaplain of Muntinlupa prison, who was very “sipsip” to the president. Kulang nalang lagyan niya si GMA ng honey, syrup, molasses, at gawing crepe topped with choco syrup. Kung hindi lang dahil kay St Therese, I would have walked out of that room at that moment.

By the time GMA walked down the aisle with Juan Ponce Enrile and his ageing wife Cristina, as offerors, my dislike of her had gone full swing. I can also see that many people there were just restraining themselves from throwing balls of petals at the country’s biggest thorn. I’m glad the mass ended quickly and we squeezed ourselves in line to view St Therese. As I was struggling for breath, sandwiched between a stout praying woman and a mother carrying her child, just in front of the relics, I saw Nina and Knell. I barely had time to wave “hello” than the crowd moved once more and pinned me to the relic case. I said a few heartfelt prayers while touching the case, and bent down to pick a couple of white roses.

Getting out of that inner room was as much of a challenge as it was going in. I looked around for Nina and her husband but I couldn’t see them anymore. We waited for Mama to struggle her way out and we all walked together in the Palace grounds towards the gate, as members of the Society distributed prayer cards and fans with St Therese’ Shrine in the picture. Mel called that he was already waiting at the Malacañang gate near St Jude. No sign of Nina and her family. We were already on the road when she texted that they had left. I thanked her for the invitation, noting that seeing the thorn had made my day.

March 6: Old messages, new messages

I opened my old SIM today. I found it in my makeup kit, among the lipstick and eyeliner and many other facial recreation stuff. I didn't realize that I've saved lots of good quotes and touching messages from friends and family on that SIM.
After incurring a considerable credit (P4,000+) -- as a result of my roaming service in China in December 2006 -- I tucked away that SIM January of 2007 and bought a prepaid one that I've been using since then. The new SIM pulled me away from unnecessary cellphone expenses. I forgot all about the messages in that old SIM and when I saw them tonight, they stirred some happy and heart-tugging memories.
Here are some of those messages:

Apr 14, 2006 - 7:14am
From Nina, officemate and friend
Let me share with you a beautiful Lenten prayer: "Lord, when I lose hope because my plans have come to nothing, help me to remember that your love is always greater than my disappointments and your plans for my life is always better than my dreams. Amen."

Nina is still with me in the same team but we rarely have time to have some heart-to-heart talks. Since she encountered some problem at work several months ago, she has stopped joining us for lunch and has found new lunch buddies. When I was promoted in October 2007, we also had a little misunderstanding about that promotion, but we were able to settle it. Still, I can say that things have changed quite a bit between the two of us, although I still feel that she cares for me. And of course, I still look at her as a friend. Just last night, she has invited me and my family to view the relics of St Therese of the Child Jesus in Malacañang, courtesy of her sister who works there. So I believe our friendship isn't lost, and this message will always be a reminder of that.

Oct 25, 2006 - 11:43pm
From Mel, husband
I'll embrace you for eternity.

Mel, of course, will always be there, although lately it's work, work, work for both of us. We squeeze in time for romantic getaways but this is rare now that Marthe requires more of our time. This message of over a year ago is an assurance that whatever happens, I will not be alone in this world.

Oct 30, 2006 - 1:00am
From Shers, sister
"Life isn't about waiting for the storm to pass. It's learning to dance in the rain. It's singing in the car when you don't even know all the words. It's giving your whole heart to someone even if you're a little scared. It's about taking risks and making life worth living because every minute you waste is a minute you'll never get back."

Shers left for Spain in June 2007 and she will have to stay there for three years before she can come home, as the Spanish government requires foreigners three years before they can get their residence certificate. I miss her so much and all her spontaneous messages when she was here. I miss our gimmicks and late-night chats and sharing of secrets and dreams. I miss my second best friend. We no longer text each other because it's so expensive for me. She and Mama, however, text each other everyday (I don't know why Mama's texts is always cheaper than mine) and I send her my messages through Mama. But we email each other often and she gets to read her emails every week. I wish the three years would fly and we can see her soon.

Dec 22, 2006 - 7:23pm
From 0916-2683455, haven't traced who this is
"Some people never get over their past accomplishments. Even worse are the people who exaggerate what they have done. For years. I kept a sign on my desk that helped me maintain the right perspective concerning yesterday. It simply said, 'Yesterday Ended Last Night.' It reminded me that no matter how badly I might have failed in the past, it's done, and today is a new day."
- John Maxwell

Whoever this is has given me such an inspiring message. Today is a new day and everything I do today is a fresh beginning for tomorrow.

Dec 31, 2006 - 10:27pm
From Marco, officemate and friend
I opened an account for you, May, at the Bank of God's Blessings and deposited 365 days full of LOVE, FAITH, JOY and PROSPERITY. Enjoy withdrawing them. Happy New Year!

Marco, my buddy, is now sitting beside me in the office. His workstation was moved beside mine when my former officemate Rose transferred to another company. I still get to talk to him by email and personally. But conversations are rare as work is getting much of our attention now. Our department has downsized and even if the load has lightened a bit, there seems to be greater pressure to excel and deliver quality edits. I just miss more of the Marco of old times but he has not really changed. He still teases me about my height and other officemates about their age, appearance, etc. But his jokes are more of "paglalambing" so I don't really get irritated anymore. This message shows that there's a soft and sweet side to Marco. He has a new one-liner this week: "Ingat!" from the Biogesic commercial. He says it when any of us are walking out at the end of the day. He is everybody's buddy. :-)

Jan 11, 2007 - 12:08am
From Jason, officemate and friend
"Life is all about waking up each day to discover something new...about meeting old people but making new conversations...walking through old roads but still feeling nice about it...realizing that you have grown a day older but still feeling young at heart...meeting busy schedules but still finding time for old friends...being nostalgic about gone days but looking forward to better days...HAPPY BIRTHDAY!

Jason is also now a rare vision in the 14/F. We used to go to lunch with Rech and me but these past months, he started having his own activities, errands and schedules -- some secret, some not, some personal, some work-related. And he has his self-imposed diet lately so he eats big breakfasts at half past 10 or 11 am and is still full when we invite him to lunch at around 12nn. But the three of us, including Rech, manage to see each other and get together for lunch as much as possible as there's just the three of us left from the original bunch of lunch buddies in our office. Incidentally, Rech and Jason are my batch mates in Global Sources. I joined the company in March 2004 and both of them joined in April of that year. We've been close ever since. In 2007, I believe Jason was the first to greet me on my birthday.

Jan 21, 2007 - 2:16pm
From Rose, former officemate, and friend
"There's a certain desperate longingness between two parallel lines - for they will never meet in the same plane." Pwede rin pala gamitin ang Math sa pag-e-emote. Hehe.

Rose is no longer with Global Sources. She left in September last year and joined HSBC, a banking corporation. I miss her a lot because we are also very close and have our own secret conversations and codes. She listens to my advice and always consults me for little things involving work and lovelife. Each time she visits the office, I see to it that I have time to meet her, for breakfast, coffee or after-office drinks. She said she feels lonely and bored often lately because of the nature of her new job. But maybe she just misses us a lot. When she transfers workplace to Makati, maybe I can find more time to meet her.

Feb 29: An Extra Day

We always look at a leap year as the one with the extra day, the extra 24 hours we can use—or waste. To many, it is a window of opportunity, a day that promises difference, a day when extraordinary events can happen. We look at it as a porthole—as Harry and his colleagues of the wizarding world would say—that we can hold on to transform us to something new, something different, for at least one day.

If you’re a single unattached male or female, chances are friends would advice you to date or make the first move just to get things rolling. You feel bold, uninhibited, because you have the leap year as an alibi if you are ever criticized for your unusual openness. If you’re married without kids, some people will tell you to try your luck in conceiving one today. Who knows, the stars might connive to give you one lovely son or daughter, or twins…or more.

For the jobless and lazy, this is THE day to try their lucks in the lottery or horseracing, as if they haven’t been doing it every single day of their pathetic, worthless life. Or the casino, if they’re moneyed. Or the illegal gambling dens. (It’s a leap year, give us a break!) On the contrary, if you’re a businessman or entrepreneur, colleagues and superiors may advice you to be cautious and conservative in your deals today and not to sign any contracts in haste, lest your good fortune will magnetize the negative energies of the day.

You’re a bum? Get a job! You’re a geek? Get involved! Frustrated with your job? Get your boss to promote you! You’re a virgin? Get laid! You’re a workaholic? Get a life!

In whatever way, leap years are portrayed as the year that gives you extra – extra power, extra confidence, extra luck and extra charm to get what you desire. Maybe that is why the Olympics is scheduled every four years as well, and often coincides with leap years. It might give the athletes the extra “leap”, the extra strength, the extra boost, the extra booze.

But in reality, to most of us hardworking, mature individuals who are simply busy getting by everyday, the extra 24 hours of February is just like any other day. We start and end it just like any other day. We wake up in the usual time and do whatever we normally do on a day like that, such as eating, working, interacting with the world and sleeping at the end of the day. Apart from the hullabaloo created by psychics, numerologists, astrologists and feng shui experts, there is nothing different about February 29.

So what is all the fuss about the extra day? Why think of it as lucky or blessed or charmed? It’s not the day that pours in the extraordinary energy that turns the lives of some of us around. It’s us and our belief that fuel this day with extraordinary spirit, turning our own lives around.

The extra day does not make the leap year any better than the rest of the years of a decade or century. We do. If we live each day of our lives with great care and full attention, we accomplish more and become productive. If we cut the journey short by moving rapidly towards our dreams than succumbing to the endless delays brought by mistaken opportunities, we can get there faster and be able start a new journey to another dream. If we focus on the essentials of life and downplay the distractions of unrequited love, heartbreak, lost job, bypassed promotion, death of a loved one, vision of what could have been, failed experiment, sickness, unplanned pregnancy, ill will and vengeance, we can enjoy the meaning of life and be in the moment.

If we do all these and more, we achieve greater heights and accomplish vital things in one day. And the next day will always be an extra day—a day that’s new, different, promising.

Hello 2008!

Happy New Year everyone! I hope you've all settled into your New Year work schedules, having said goodbye to the oh-so-delicious long vacation and long weekends in 2007. It's time rev up, people. (Or am I really saying this to myself?)

Anyway, I've had time to think during the holidays and I've come up with my opening post for the New Year, my Top 10s. This post features the first of three parts.

TOP 10 BLESSINGS OF 2007

1. My daughter is safe. In December, while shopping for my daughter, Marthe's, polka dot dress for her Christmas party, we didn't notice that she had attached herself to a stranger, thinking that the woman was me. I was standing a few feet away from the rest of us, going through a rack of clothes, when I noticed a girl in red walking almost past me. From my peripheral vision, she looked familiar and I glanced up in time to see Marthe holding the wrist of a woman I didn't know. I grabbed her instantly and she was shocked to realize she was holding somebody else's hand. I still get goosebumps whenever I recall the incident, especially when I remember that the woman pretended not to notice Marthe by her side. I think that woman had a plan to lure my daughter away and kidnap her, for whatever reason anyone has to kidnap a child from a poor family like ours. I'm just utterly thankful Marthe was safe and is still safe with us today.

2. Curative surgery. In April, my gynecologist confirmed I had a rapidly growing myoma in the uterine wall and drastic measures had to be done to keep it from growing bigger. She gave me two options: an IUD form of drug that will be injected in the uterus for 2-5 years to reduce the myoma size, or surgery as soon as possible. Both options will prevent me from having our planned second baby. After researching about the drug and the surgery, my husband and I opted to have surgery, as we think this was the more reliable choice. However, we were warned that if the myoma is well-entrenched in the uterus, the doctors may have to remove the entire uterus. I had my surgery in late June, and indeed, it was total hysterectomy (the whole uterus was removed).
Two weeks after the surgery, while I was still grieving from not being able to have another child, the biopsy report on my operation arrived. I had cancer of the uterus in a very early stage. Had I opted for the IUD drug, this would have worsened my cancer. On the other hand, because the uterus was removed, an oncologist declared that my surgery was curative of that kind of cancer. I didn't need to undergo chemotherapy or radiotherapy, but have to watch my diet and go through a series of tests yearly to monitor my health. I am alive and safe.

3. Marthe's good academic standing. My one and only five-year-old started going to Nursery school in June, shortly before my operation. It was quite difficult for her to handle being away from me during the operation while adjusting to her new surroundings in school. But she did well and continues to excel in her studies. She's getting good grades and improving in her interaction with her classmates. She was recommended for acceleration to Junior Preparatory level but she declined because of its morning schedule (she currently has an afternoon class). Still, the recommendation is proof that my daughter is exceling in school, and to any parent, that is more than enough blessing.

4. Stronger relationship with my family. For my family, the year 2007 was characterized by several spontaneous weekend trips to places we haven't been before, such as new malls or locations out-of-town. These trips helped strengthen our bond with each other. Some of the places we hied off to:
- Sta Rosa, Laguna and Tagaytay People's Park in April: My mother's sister purchased a house in Laguna Bel-Air Phase 2 in late 2006 and she invited us to stay in the house even if they're away in Spain. We did this one weekend of April and while staying there, went to Tagaytay's People Park, with its ecotourism trail and hanging bridge, for a quick picnic. You can see the viewdeck from this link http://www.pbase.com/explorer/image/39577410 We also had lunch at the famed public market, where they make special bulalo (beef stew).
- Subic's Ocean Adventure and Zoobic Safari in November: Actually, my mom and I just accompanied Marthe in her field trip. It was some kind of bonding for my mother and me, and also for the three of us (three generations, we call ourselves). The field trip included Ocean Adventure and Zoobic Safari in its itinerary. It was a really educational trip, even for us adults, as we saw the Dolphin and Whale Show, the Sea Lion Show, the aquariums, the bone and egg museum. We were chased by live tigers while riding a screened jeep dangling a live chicken as bait, and saw crocodiles and other reptiles, ostrichs and a community of aetas. It was worth the long trip.
- Trinoma Fireworks Display in December: After Marthe's Christmas party, she was so bored, she wanted to get out of the house and had to "stage" a tantrum at home just to keep us all in rush. We finally left the house late in the afternoon, but not after scolding her. Apparently, Marthe had some kind of premonition, or should I say just stubborness, because it was a perfect day for us to go to the new Trinoma mall in Quezon City. My mom's friend heard that on Saturday and Sunday evenings of December, there are performances in the roofdeck of the mall at about 6pm. We went to the roofdeck garden immediately and saw that they were setting up for a mass because it was the first evening of the 9-day Misa de Gallo novena masses in the Philippines. We ate a little snack in the garden before proceeding to the mass at 6. After the mass, the Philippine Montessori Center Ensemble, a group of 5-6 year olds, performed percussion instruments. They were very good, especially in the anklung, marimba and xylophone. After their performance, the mall launched its fireworks display, which lasted for about 30 minutes. It was a real treat!

- La Mesa Dam Ecopark: After so many attempts in the past, we finally managed to visit the La Mesa Ecopark in Quezon City near the end of December. It was a welcome break from the holiday rush, in both work and social duties.


5. Shers in Spain. My sister was granted her visa by the Spanish Embassy early in May and left for Alicante in mid-June. She stayed at my aunt's house in Javea for a couple of months and transferred to Madrid, where she's now staying with a Spanish family who promised to process her work permit so she can have better employment opportunities in the future. She has also made friends with many Filipinos who are active in church. Her being there is a great blessing to our family.

6. Being assigned to Security Products. Despite what transpired in my workplace this 2007, I feel that I was blessed to have been assigned to the editorial team of Security Products magazine. The former magazine I belonged to, Electronics, has grown in size again over the past few months and the Electronics team is now always swamped with work. I had been very overworked when I was in that magazine, which is something I can't say for SP. My transfer enabled me to have more time with my family.

7. My promotion. In late October, I was promoted to Assistant Production Editor, and was formally tasked to oversee the production of the magazine. I was hired by my company as Senior Copy Editor and had been holding the same position for more than three years. I think my promotion was timely and I believe I deserve it, after all the hardships I've gone through for work all these years -- not to mention the various illnesses I've acquired from simply being stressed.

8. Home-based work with regular salary. The company I work for is strict and seldom diverts from conventions. I was surprised when it allowed me to work from home after my surgery, editing articles and reports for only a few hours each day. Even with a flexible work schedule, I was given my regular salary. I know that the company owes me a lot in a way because I've also been dedicated in my work since I joined. But I think this gesture showed that the company trusts me, trusts that I will do a good job even when they can't see me. If only for that, I am grateful, because I needed the money and I couldn't afford not to earn while recuperating. This is the sad fate of my life but that's okay. It didn't really stop me from enjoying my two-month sick leave anyway. I still had plenty of rest and recreation, for somebody who has had her abdomen cut.

9. Winning the GS' 2007 Christmas party presentation contest. Last year, our department won second place in the 2006 Christmas party presentation, for our spoof of an everyday GS situation: employees hurdling the elevator trip (and all its queer passengers) to get to the office on time. This year, we won first prize for our beautiful chorale rendition of a Christmas medley, set in a small community of typical ordinary Filipinos. I'm actually proud of this presentation, especially since it had been bugged by problems from the very start: our original director backed out because her mother had to be rushed to the hospital and she had to watch over her for at least a week; only one person knew how to play the guitar and he hasn't been practicing for a long time now; most of us know a tune or two but are not really into choral singing; schedules were hectic so we had managed to practice as a complete group only once or twice; nobody was free to take care of props and technical aspects until two days before the contest; and many others. But winning erased all these.

10. My 21-inch flat screen TV. I won a Promac TV in the raffle. Now my portable DVD player -- that I won in the raffle last year -- has a partner. I watched the video of our Christmas party yesterday and I was shocked to see that somebody else had been picked for that prize, but she had gone home already so she forfeited it. My name was picked next, and I was at that time dressing up into my party attire, after our presentation. I didn't know I had to go out to receive the prize but my dance colleague, Gracie, knocked at the door twice to get me out quick. Thank you Gracie!

All in all, 2007 was a good enough year for me. Not great, but good. There had been plenty of trials, problems, fears. But I thank God for all the blessings. He has really been good to me and my family. I'm still surviving because of God. I hope all of you will, too.

Happy New Year again!

Strange people

The reading lady Last week, when I went to mass, I managed to sit across a woman in the jeep who was intently reading a book. She was completely out of touch with what's happening around her, focused mainly on a paperback in her hand. I bet she was reading a love story because she had that kind of expression on her face -- you know, that kind of half-smile, partly hopeful, partly hurting, and that embarassed, dreamy faraway look that you acquire when the helpless virginal heroine is shamed at having the patronizing handsome hero discover that she loves him, and is struggling hard to explain herself without sounding too pathetic... Anyway, as I said, this woman is totally oblivious to her surroundings. Her bag and paper bag were placed haphazardly on her side, almost spilling off their contents on the floor. The woman was wearing a calf-length skirt and was sitting with her legs apart, as if she she paid a fare of P21, instead of P7. Each time the jeepney braked, she'd move her leg and knee forward to balance herself but never once looked up from her book. What's funny was her expression changed about three or four times, getting more revealing each time. That must have been a really interesting love story; she was probably on the sex part. Whatever. By the time I alighted at the corner leading to St. Andrew, the woman had turned the page maybe twice. There was no traffic so it was a quick trip, and it was a quick read. But she was soooo into it. Those who are first will be last I sat at the second to the last pew in church. The mass has already started when I arrived. When we came to the homily part, a few minutes into the homily, a mother and son hurriedly entered the church and stood by the aisle of my pew, looking for a seat. The mother then glanced back, apparently signalling to her husband to follow, and pulled her son forward, walking bravely through the aisle amidst the sitting churchgoers. I immediately realized they were aiming for the very front pew, and I also noticed at the same time that the pew they were targeting was completely empty while the other pews behind it were fully packed. The mother and son reached the pew, stopped, stared, turned around and walked briskly down the aisle back to where they stood earlier. I knew it! I think there was a "reserved" sign on the seat, explaining why the pew is totally empty. A few minutes later, a very proud looking peacock in red spaghetti-strapped backless blouse and heavy mane of brown dyed hair strutted down the aisle towards the same pew, head held very high. A woman, who seems to be her mother, followed the teenager. They, too, stopped, stared and turned around. This time, the peacock walked rapidly down the aisle with head bowed down. More like an ostrich ready to bury its head. A third group--a whole family--reached the pew after offertory and did the same turn-around move. (They're very late and they still want to stay in front! Tsk tsk. Lord, forgive me.) By this time, the church staff probably noticed that people going front were being prevented from sitting by something in the pew. I didn't know at the time but during communion, I noticed that the front pew was already full. Unfortunately, the mother-and-son, the strutting peacock in red, and the large family were not among them. Strange how these first three groups of people never noticed the unusual emptiness of the pew, and strange how it took a while for the church staff to notice there was something wrong. And I noticed them all. Made me ask myself later if I was paying attention to the mass or not. Almost burned I decided to pass by McDonald's in the corner of Reposo and JP Rizal streets after mass to buy chicken nuggets for Marthe. She was craving for it and had mentioned it several times during the day. It took some time to be ready so it was relatively quiet when I finally alighted at Zapote St. I'm still not allowed to take the tricycle so I walked. On my side of the street, I passed by several cars of jeepneys that were parked on the sidewalk: a common sight. As I was walking past Marthe's school, I looked up at the sign of the preschool and reread the text that I've read several times in the past months: announcement about the registration and others. An empty jeepney was parked close to it, to my left. I was walking past the jeep, mind preoccupied, when a hand suddenly shot out of the jeep window, almost into my face. The hand shook the excess ash from the tip of the cigarette it was holding. I jumped sideways to the right. I looked at the jeep but saw only the arm. Apparently, there was somebody lying down in the jeep bench and he shot his hand out to shake the cigarette ash without even considering that somebody might be walking past at this hour. Somebody like me. If that hand had hit my face and burned my cheeks with that ash, I would have twisted it back to its owner and ram it into his mouth before he'd ever know what hit him. Sometimes, I wonder how God survives every moment of being God. I wonder how he can look at, listen to and empathize with these strange people who can get into your nerves if you're caught off guard. I guess that's why He is God. And I'm just human.

Blue hospital gowns and a hunk in maroon

This happened on August 20, 2007. I woke up yesterday with this strange dream hanging over my consciousness. I know there was a problem but I could not point my finger on what it was. I was in a place away from home, in the company of officemates and friends. I didn't even see any of my friends in the entire dream, but there was one person who stood out very vividly -- and I have no idea who he is. All I remember was that he was lean, muscled in the proper places, has moderately dark complexion, slightly long hair and a face that I'd like to bring to mind every so often. His being a stranger to me in real life did not disturb me as much as the wonderful feeling of having my arms wrapped around his torso and his over my shoulders. It was a comforting, very reassuring circumstance. In my dream, I wanted this man. And when I awoke from the weird dream in which he figured into, I wanted to meet him in the flesh, if he, indeed, exists. But I'm jumping ahead of my story. The focus of my strange dream was not him. It was a hospital that appears to have been built behind or above a posh restaurant inside a grand hotel. How it came to be, I have no idea, but there it was, with an entrance door right at the top of a glittering staircase that opens to the restaurant. The dream starts with my awareness that I was with friends, having some kind of teambuilding away from home. I was troubled and I went out for a walk in the late afternoon (I think, judging from the lighting of the scene). All of a sudden, this hunk of a man in maroon shirt approached me and seemed to ask me what the problem was. He was a bit "chinito" and kind of boyish in features, but I know he was not so young. In the dream, it appeared that we were close to each other and could tell each other anything. I talked about whatever it was that bothered me and he comforted me with kind words. Then he gestured for us to go somewhere far from the group, where we can walk and talk some more. He placed his arms over my shoulders and pulled me closer to him as we walked. And I naturally wrapped my arms around his waist. It was so natural that I didn't think twice or feel embarassed at all. We walked and walked and talked and talked, but I couldn't hear what we were discussing and there was no topic that popped up in my mind while the dream was going on. Then we came upon a building and I noticed that we were already walking over wooden floors. There was a doorway to the right leading to a hall, and the door was open so I could see the corridor. I then said to him, "Hey, this was my old dormitory. This is my college, this was where I studied and stayed for four years." But the place didn't look anything like my college dorm; not even my college. Still, it was the first time I heard me talk about something definite in my dream. He wanted us to go through the doorway but I gestured for him to be quiet and to just proceed with me to a staircase in front of us. I seemed to have warned him that it was late and people might be preparing for dinner or something. We climbed the stairs, still close to each other, and the scene changed. We were climbing up a set of very elegant steps made of gold and black-and-brown marble, about three flights. At the top of the stairs was a receiving podium standing to the right of a carpeted floor. To the left was a glass door with translucent print but I can sense that behind it was more elegance. I remember looking through the glass and seeing several round tables neatly dressed in delicate beige cloth, with flower arrangements on the center of each. Beyond the tables was a lobby. That gave me the first impression that I was standing behind a hotel and restaurant. It was around this time that I noticed that the character of the hunk-in-maroon disappeared from my dream sequence and that I proceeded on my own without surprise or perplexity. It was as if his sudden disappearance from my side was as natural as the air I breathed. I walked beyond the podium and proceeded to another flight of shiny, glittering stairs that was much higher than the first three. At the top of it was a metal door. I pushed the door and found myself inside what looked to me like a hospital. The only thing I vaguely remember now is that I wandered around the halls and hospital rooms for some time, looking for something (or someone) that was unidentified in my dream. The next scene startled me. I woke up lying on a hospital bed, wearing a blue patient’s gown (Blue gowns are worn by medical interns; patient’s usually have white gowns. But in my dream, the patient’s gown was blue). I was inside what looks like a laboratory that’s being used as a storage room, because there were boxes of supplies around, some old hospital equipment and some wall-mounted shelves. When I looked down towards my feet, I saw a janitor at the end of the room mopping the floor, his back to me. He was finishing up and was moving towards the light switch, and I sat up and called to him, “Manong, manong!” He couldn’t hear me at first, but I jumped down from the hospital bed and felt around for my slippers, calling louder to him this time. “Manong, sandali, andito pa ako! Wag mo akong iwan!” He whirled around, seeing me, and was a little bit surprised – judging from his expression. But he didn’t say a word and waited for me, standing by the light switch. I finally fit my feet on a pair of slippers under the bed, which I can’t recall how it looks, and walked rapidly towards the door. I thanked him and went out ahead. I walked on and on, getting frantic about how I’d get out of the hospital. I have a vague feeling that it was late and dark outside and that I have to move on. I also had this feeling that no one should see me. I ran through short corridors and several rooms that looked just like the one I left until I saw a flight of stairs. I went up and up, about three to four flights. As I came near the top of the last one, I heard someone sobbing. When I reached the top, there was a hospital bed just beside the staircase with a dead body lying on it. I didn’t stare at the body, but in my dream I knew it was dead, it was a very old woman, and it was lying uncovered, dressed in something printed, its feet visible in the periphery of my sight. My senses, however, were not focused on the body but on the sobbing. I was frozen for many seconds from the awareness of a dead body, and the realization that the crying was coming from somewhere else. My left foot was on the top step and my right foot was in the second to the top step. My left hand was holding the rail near the dead body’s bed. Several feet beyond the dead woman’s bed, invisible at first, was a woman lying face down on the floor. When she started crying again, her body began crawling across the floor towards the bed and towards me. She never looked up, her face—and her whole body it seemed—was still flat on the floor, but she was moving towards me! All my popped-out eyes could see was a long white dress and blue patient’s gown with unkempt wavy hair moving across the floor in my direction. And then I noticed the pool of blood under the moving body, being wiped by her moving dress and hair as she moved. Waahhh!!! That snapped me out of my dream, and I woke up sweating, crying and very frightened.