“Matt the trash can’s there oh…” Ms. Weng, one of my fellow teacher at La Salle told me as we walk out of the faculty lounge after lunch. I smiled thinly and said “There’s still some left, I’ll eat it later.”
***
It was my late grandmother who taught me how to pray before meals. She taught me, my sister, and my cousins a simple prayer—it was more of a song. It goes like:
Ama sa langit
Salamat sa’yo,
God bless our food
Amen
From then on, praying before eating became more of a habit, a ritual that should be done. Although as I grew up I learned the reason and importance for praying before eating, I seldom realize it—I think it’s human nature. We don’t see the importance of something we habitually do, or the importance of someone close to us.
***
“Will it not spoil?” she inquired. “No, I don’t think so, I’ve tried it last week,” I replied with a hearty laugh. For two weeks now, I’ve been cost cutting. I eat little of the viand during lunch time to save it for dinner. When it’s dinner time, I would be buying a cup rice from a nearby carinderia that costs 8 pesos. Through this, I was able to save around 30 to 50 pesos from my budget for meals—I spend an average of 120 pesos for food each day. This is when I started to realize and ponder deeply on the importance of the prayer before meals.
Contrary to what people assume, I am not profiting much nowadays. One reason—I’d like to believe—is that I’m on the adjustment stage, and that I have only received my paycheck. Another reason could be the poor economics of this country. Whichever reason is applicable to my situation—and to the rest of the Filipino workforce, there’s not much option but to keep one’s head up and surivive.
***
“Lola, why do we pray before we eat?” I would ask my grandma. “Because we have to thank God for the food we eat,” she would answer with her soft and sweet voice. “Did our food come from heaven?” I would curiously ask. She would smile and answer, “Yes Matt.”
***
Back then, I thought that our food was literally delivered from heaven. Later I realized that the terms “blessings” and “gifts from God” are more of spiritual than literal. As I grew up I realized that God would give gifts and blessings through people.
I didn’t realize how important food was, until I started buying them from my meager salary. I realized the rationale for praying; it’s simply to thank God for the opportunity to still have something to eat, for money to buy for food, for the resources He provides to sustain life.
With piles of bills to pay and problems to face, never forget that God is there to carry the cross and unburden us.
Looking for peace?
For answers?
Pray.
It’s a direct call—no costumer service representatives needed.
Friday, June 20, 2008
Friday, June 13, 2008
Enslaved on Independence Day
I was too engrossed playing Grand Theft Auto (yeah, that old school game) last Wednesday night that I didn’t notice the time. I slept at around 1230MN. It wasn’t too late actually, aside from the fact that I have an early morning class the next day at PNU. The next morning, as expected, I woke up late (6AM). I jumped out of bed and took a quick bath (my class is at 7AM, by the way) At 6:30, I’m already eating at the nearby tapsihan. Since I didn’t have the time to eat, I moved out of the eatery at 6:40. I was fortunate enough to ride on an FX that brought me to PNU (and with long strides reached BPS 209B) at exactly 7:00 AM.
From that time to 10:00, I held my class; gave out lectures and activities; and went to La Salle for my afternoon class. I was too tired that I took a nap in the faculty lounge. When I regained my strength, I took lunch, and minutes later went to class.
The class went as what we normally do—from 1:00 to 4:10. Afterwards, at 4:20, I started my writing lab tutorial. This carried on until 6PM. Exhausted, I went home and took a rest.
***
Well, some might have a more stressful Thursday, but it isn’t the point. That Thursday was June 12, the Philippine Independence Day, and I can’t forgive myself for failing to greet my students. How could I have forgotten it?
While there is no one to be blamed but me (since I was too preoccupied), I may also say that it was because of what happened—or what did not happen. That Thursday was an ordinary Thursday. There was nothing “extravagant” and “traditional” to at least remind me, “Hey, you’re supposed to celebrate, today’s when you’re country got its freedom from 400 years of Spanish Colonial rule.”
GMA chose to “celebrate” Independence day with a flurry of booths in Luneta, which aim to provide services to Filipinos (i.e. job opportunities). However, I can’t help but ask, “Why on that day? Can’t the ‘service to the Filipino’ be done on another day? Or even EVERYday?”
The move of GMA was supported by the premise that the government is trying to save funds. While this is very timely, I think this statement from Malacañang is rather hypocritical. There are many other aspects from which the government can save. Say, downgrade the vehicles that politicos use—these people usually ride luxurious SUVs, with V8 engines which means that a full tank would more likely cost P4,000; plus the security convoy, et ceterea et cetera. But of course, they won’t do that.
This government’s decision to “celebrate” Independence Day differently is absurd and irrational. It only shows how narrow these people think. It only proves how these people care for their popularity, rather than the identity of the nation. Disregarding national festivities such as the independence day by moving it out of its original date just for the sake of “holiday economics” and worse, ignoring it are proofs that this country is still enslaved.
From that time to 10:00, I held my class; gave out lectures and activities; and went to La Salle for my afternoon class. I was too tired that I took a nap in the faculty lounge. When I regained my strength, I took lunch, and minutes later went to class.
The class went as what we normally do—from 1:00 to 4:10. Afterwards, at 4:20, I started my writing lab tutorial. This carried on until 6PM. Exhausted, I went home and took a rest.
***
Well, some might have a more stressful Thursday, but it isn’t the point. That Thursday was June 12, the Philippine Independence Day, and I can’t forgive myself for failing to greet my students. How could I have forgotten it?
While there is no one to be blamed but me (since I was too preoccupied), I may also say that it was because of what happened—or what did not happen. That Thursday was an ordinary Thursday. There was nothing “extravagant” and “traditional” to at least remind me, “Hey, you’re supposed to celebrate, today’s when you’re country got its freedom from 400 years of Spanish Colonial rule.”
GMA chose to “celebrate” Independence day with a flurry of booths in Luneta, which aim to provide services to Filipinos (i.e. job opportunities). However, I can’t help but ask, “Why on that day? Can’t the ‘service to the Filipino’ be done on another day? Or even EVERYday?”
The move of GMA was supported by the premise that the government is trying to save funds. While this is very timely, I think this statement from Malacañang is rather hypocritical. There are many other aspects from which the government can save. Say, downgrade the vehicles that politicos use—these people usually ride luxurious SUVs, with V8 engines which means that a full tank would more likely cost P4,000; plus the security convoy, et ceterea et cetera. But of course, they won’t do that.
This government’s decision to “celebrate” Independence Day differently is absurd and irrational. It only shows how narrow these people think. It only proves how these people care for their popularity, rather than the identity of the nation. Disregarding national festivities such as the independence day by moving it out of its original date just for the sake of “holiday economics” and worse, ignoring it are proofs that this country is still enslaved.
Sunday, June 1, 2008
Choices and Consequences
I'm not a brat... or maybe I am.
But how do you define a "brat'?
I never experienced asking my mother and father to buy me something (i.e. toys and kid stuff); we were informed about our lean budget since we were kids. If "brat" is defined as someone who gets what s/he wants by "threatening" people around him (especially parents) or having tantrums, then I guess I'm not.
I get what I want (most of the time). But I work for it real hard. I sold "polvoron" and "yema" during my elementary days so that I can buy myself snacks. I sold "lumpia" and "turon"under the blistering heat of the sun to buy myself a guitar. I persuaded classmates and friends and to sell their stuff at a very low price or give them to me in exchange of some odd things (i.e. running errands for them or finishing their assignments or projects)
I accomplish my plans, or at least I try. I face people (or write to them) and tell them frankly how I loathe their practices (especially in the workplace), which is exactly what I did a few months ago.
I got pissed off with the "culture" and character of people in my former "school".
I resigned.
I chose to leave the "fortunes" served in the not-so-genuine silver platter. I chose to leave some of the friends and colleagues that for years served as members of the secret society of the abused. I chose to go back to the polluted and over populated Metro Manila.
I chose to live alone.
But I'm not a hypocrite, and during the first 2 weeks of my stay in my humble abode, I realized that somehow, living on your own is not that "cool".
There were nights when I felt so solitary. No one to talk to and nothing much to do (which made me realize how badly I need a laptop--which is the message behind my Friendster shoutout: "...accepts donations...") I should be happy, now I have more time for myself; now I have more time to read. But I'm a person who tries to adhere to the Chinese concept of the Yin and Yang. I need to engage to other recreational activites more than reading. In short, I need to chat (literally and virtually).
Fortunately, just yesterday, Kay and I had an opportunity to talk (It's been a while, since she buried herself into solitary confinement for 100 years... because of Gabriel Garcia Marquez and his spiritual Filipino alter ego, Venancio Lazaro Mendiola) She told me that I'm being melancholic because of the fact that the other school (from which I will be a part time faculty) hasn't started classes yet.
Maybe she's right and I should just enjoy the dumb moments inside my shack. She even pressed me to finish reading The Last Temptation of Christ (I'm in chapter 23 in all fairness) so that she can borrow it. I told her it's not something you read quickly because the context is highly meditative like Hesse's Siddharta, but she snides that I've been reading it for a year now and I should let go of it. (Well, hopefully I'll be able to finish it in no time ;-) )
Realizations 101: Maybe it's just part of the adjustment. Hopefullt, in the next few days, I'll be meeting and chatting with old friends and new friends.
Life is what we make it, consequences are results of our choices. <-- taray
But how do you define a "brat'?
I never experienced asking my mother and father to buy me something (i.e. toys and kid stuff); we were informed about our lean budget since we were kids. If "brat" is defined as someone who gets what s/he wants by "threatening" people around him (especially parents) or having tantrums, then I guess I'm not.
I get what I want (most of the time). But I work for it real hard. I sold "polvoron" and "yema" during my elementary days so that I can buy myself snacks. I sold "lumpia" and "turon"under the blistering heat of the sun to buy myself a guitar. I persuaded classmates and friends and to sell their stuff at a very low price or give them to me in exchange of some odd things (i.e. running errands for them or finishing their assignments or projects)
I accomplish my plans, or at least I try. I face people (or write to them) and tell them frankly how I loathe their practices (especially in the workplace), which is exactly what I did a few months ago.
I got pissed off with the "culture" and character of people in my former "school".
I resigned.
I chose to leave the "fortunes" served in the not-so-genuine silver platter. I chose to leave some of the friends and colleagues that for years served as members of the secret society of the abused. I chose to go back to the polluted and over populated Metro Manila.
I chose to live alone.
But I'm not a hypocrite, and during the first 2 weeks of my stay in my humble abode, I realized that somehow, living on your own is not that "cool".
There were nights when I felt so solitary. No one to talk to and nothing much to do (which made me realize how badly I need a laptop--which is the message behind my Friendster shoutout: "...accepts donations...") I should be happy, now I have more time for myself; now I have more time to read. But I'm a person who tries to adhere to the Chinese concept of the Yin and Yang. I need to engage to other recreational activites more than reading. In short, I need to chat (literally and virtually).
Fortunately, just yesterday, Kay and I had an opportunity to talk (It's been a while, since she buried herself into solitary confinement for 100 years... because of Gabriel Garcia Marquez and his spiritual Filipino alter ego, Venancio Lazaro Mendiola) She told me that I'm being melancholic because of the fact that the other school (from which I will be a part time faculty) hasn't started classes yet.
Maybe she's right and I should just enjoy the dumb moments inside my shack. She even pressed me to finish reading The Last Temptation of Christ (I'm in chapter 23 in all fairness) so that she can borrow it. I told her it's not something you read quickly because the context is highly meditative like Hesse's Siddharta, but she snides that I've been reading it for a year now and I should let go of it. (Well, hopefully I'll be able to finish it in no time ;-) )
Realizations 101: Maybe it's just part of the adjustment. Hopefullt, in the next few days, I'll be meeting and chatting with old friends and new friends.
Life is what we make it, consequences are results of our choices. <-- taray
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