Reminiscing A Trip to My Hometown in 2008!

 With the pandemic clipping my feet from doing unnecessary leisurely travels, it did not completely restrict me from traveling.  Here I am, traveling back in time - 13 years ago to be  more precise, when my family and I visited the people and the places we loved so dearly, back to our home country.

As a sliver of hope of going back unto a sense of normalcy is remotely permeating amidst the pandemic, my strong  itch to travel - long held and overdue, will soon get some scratching. Hopefully, soon!

------------o-------------------0--------------------o------------------0-------------------

                   Almost 18 hours, across the vast expanse of the Pacific Ocean, my family and I flew from Kansas City (Missouri) International Airport to the Philippine’s Ninoy Aquino International Airport (NAIA) in Manila on July 14, 2008. The three-leg flight was generally smooth except for the infrequent mild turbulence which shook the giant 777 as it neared through the International Date Line. Humdrum never occurred to us during the long flight, for excitement prevailed among us as the realization of a plan, four years in the making, unfolded. This was my family’s second trip to the Philippines after migrating to the United States almost nine years ago.

                This trip happened during the time, when oil prices caused frenzy twists and turns, so to speak, to the global economy. I must admit, I don’t have that wide-ranging comprehension about the stock market and the economic lingo, but from what I see and hear, they all tell the same tale, the global economy is storm-tossed. There is a Casey’s General Store just a stone’s throw away from our Iowa house. It bleeds my heart, every time a store attendant changes the oil price notice. For most of the time, the changes were going up.

                Why should I be bothered every time the oil prices go up? After all, I live in a small Iowa town where everything is two minutes away. Work is less than a mile’s walk.  And so is my son’s school. The only long drive I can think of is the once-every-six week’s visit to my son’s orthodontist in Manhattan, Kansas, and a 30-minute round trip church visit on Sundays. My concern, however, was not so much to myself but to my siblings, relatives, friends and the millions of people who would suffer the most in my old home town, the Philippines. I lived the first 39 years of my life in my old home town and I witnessed how the increasing oil prices caused the domino of adverse changes, eventually affecting mostly the marginalized mass (the masa), those whose names are forever etched below the formidable poverty line.  I was one of them, then.

                So this visit was so meaningful to me.

                Quite often, I heard my younger sister whine, how worse things have generally become lately.  Prices (goods, services) perpetually kept jacking up. Our Manhattan friends, who recently visited the Philippines, echoed similar sentiments and observations.  And from the news I read online about the Philippines, a bleak and gloomy scenario was painted at the back of my mind, on what to expect during this visit to my old home town.

                It was close to midnight when we deplaned at the NAIA.  Coming out from the suction, a larger than life (literally) poster of President Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo, is there to welcome everyone. The slogan it bears ‘ ramdam ang kaunlaran’ (progress is felt) tells everyone the progress her administration brings to my old home town.  I thought this is just a cheap lip service.  However, as I walked through the airport, down to the immigration and customs checkpoints, my attention was struck by the beautiful patches of bromeliads and other interior plants decorating the walkway. A showcase of ‘modernity’ was remarkably visible.              

                Typical balikbayans as we are, we maximized the number of suitcases allowable by the airline carriers for international travel, two per ticketed passenger at around 50 pounds per bag. These bags contained our personal belongings and a lot of ‘pasalubong’ for  folks back home who’ve been waiting for our long-awaited homecoming. Deboy and I had to wrestle with these suitcases, as they were  loaded to the minivan in our Iowa garage, checking them in in the Kansas City airport and now bringing them out from the NAIA  shuttled  to a nearby airport, NAIA2, where we waited for our early morning domestic flight. NAIA2 is also known as the Centennial Airport, so named because it was constructed during the Centennial Celebration of the Philippine Independence in 1998. Whether it was the continuous adrenalin rush (if it was) with the anticipation of seeing loved ones or just plain jet lag, sleep never visited to all of us as we waited for NAIA2 to open and allowed us to check in for our flight to Butuan City, in Mindanao. The new airport facilities and amenities seemed even better and more impressive than the NAIA. And it started to sink in me,  that my old home town is now a little different  compared to nine or so years ago.

                July 16^th, Mainit, here we come! Mainit (Surigao del Norte) was our first stop. The flight to Butuan, a little over an hour long, was smooth and uneventful.  Toto, with his minivan, was already in the Butuan airport waiting to pick us up. After loading up, this time with the airport guys wrestling the suitcases for us, it took about two hours to finally get to Mainit. On our way, we dropped by Kitcharao to pick up fruits sold in a regular ‘tabo’ (flea market), fruits which we longed to feast on in this visit; bananas, jackfruit and even avocado. Inside the wet market, I was so amused to see all kinds of vegetables, fruits and fish, and how cheap they were.

                After all the hugs, kisses and welcomes, we settled for our breakfast. Deboy concentrated on the ‘mighty meaty hotdog’, his favorite before we left for the US. Aiai, Bing and I savored the variety of food set before us: paksiw na isda, fried dried pijanga, suman, and all. What a sumptuous way to start a great vacation.

                For the ten days spent in Mainit, we got the much needed rest to restore our normal rhythm. All these days, we got invitations from relatives (aunties and uncles), treating us with local delicacies, seafoods ( fish, shrimps and crabs) and not to mention lechon. Except for Deboy who probably has the fastest metabolism, the three of us started to feel a couple of pounds heavier.

                It was really great to be in Mainit again.  Many things have changed. Not much for Papa Cesar, though, except for the usual signs of biological ‘wear and tear’ associated with ageing. For Mama Alice, she always is the woman who has a ‘mind over the body’ outlook. She continues to circumvent some health-related issues which try to pin her down. It was fun meeting with the ever active IggieBoy for the first time in person, and seeing Nina, Bimbay, Isay and Mikay growing up so fast. And Justin, too. This makes Aiai feel old.  While in Mainit, Aiai seemed to have the time of her life, enjoying the company of her cousins and with her seemingly favorite auntie Malou. Deboy, on the other hand, hoped for a visit from cousin Anthony. 

                On our last day in Mainit, Bing’s batchmate (Mainit High School class of 1975) initiated an informal reunion. It was held in Michael’s ‘basakan’ resort. It was fun witnessing her (Bing) reminiscing the good-old-high-school days with former classmates, some them she never saw for years. Also, on this day, three of my siblings (Manong Nestor and wife Maribel, Inse Myrna and Berse) came all the way from my hometown in Plaridel, with a minivan to pick us up.

                July 26. Next stop is Tipolo.  We left Mainit with the anticipation of seeing them (Papa, Mama and everybody) them again in Davao after a couple of weeks. The goodbyes were, therefore, for now.  The drive to Tipolo, about 11 hours long, is about the same time we flew from Chicago to Tokyo. This land trip, however, was more of an ordeal. The air conditioner in the van was not working, and there was not enough legroom for such a long journey.

                Arriving in Tipolo at about 8 in the evening, we were met by a huge gathering of relatives and siblings up on our hilltop house. Uray Nora, as she usually did in the past, prepared the welcome home banner for us.  Nanay, ever emotional as always,  gave all us four a big hug. The mood was celebratory. The day’s ordeal during the long trip was overcast by the excitement. A sumptuous dinner ensued.

                Our nine-day stint in Tipolo was interrupted by a midweek overnight trip (July 30-31) to Iligan City when we visited MSU-IIT where I gave a lecture, and attended to some errands. While in Tipolo, it was Deboy who got the best time of his vacation, being in the company of his four cousins (Erledd from Zamboanga who was absent from school for over a week, JR, Tope and Lemuel). They formed a five-man basketball team, playing around wherever they had the chance.

                Nanay really wanted to see her three boys (Manong Nestor, Ingko Eddie and myself) be together once again. However, it was just physically impossible. Nevertheless, I got the chance to see all my siblings, except for Tata Annabel who is in Canada. In catching up with our lives, I was glad to know the developments in my siblings’ careers. It delighted me to think that eight of us, all ended up in a teaching job. Manong Nestor, a chief mate license holder, has been teaching in college for awhile now. Then, joining us lately is Ingko Eddie who, after retiring from Magnolia Nestle as an accountant,  started a teaching career in the Universidad de Zamboanga.

                One day, while at work as head teacher in an elementary school Berse, got a text message from Tia Lourdes (Indit). Years ago, Tia was diagnosed to have certain cancer. But I learned later that her cancer was in remission.  I did not hear from her since then, until I was in Tipolo. I just learned Tio Gorio, her husband, died less than a year ago, and at this time, she got bone cancer.  That she was really sick. When Berse told me about Tia’s text message, I wasted no time and right away, Manong Nestor and I left for Tudela, about an hour’s drive away, picking up Berse on the way to visit her. To me, it was a painful experience seeing a beloved Tia so wasted and dying. While talking to her, her mind was still very sharp. But all I could in see were bones and skin. I could feel the pain she endured especially  as she was in intense pain when she ran out of pain reliever the day before. This had prompted her to contact Berse in trying to reach me. Seeing Tia, I thought the nine days’ worth of Tramadol (a pain reliever) I bought for her from a local pharmacy would be enough to see her go. I have never seen a dying person before. And I was almost right. Berse told me that Tia Indit passed away by the end of August.

                When plans for this travel were finalized in March, I sent a word to my high school batchmates inviting them to an informal gathering. A class reunion was held on August 3 in Usocan (Plaridel, Misamis Occidental).  This reunion gave us the opportunity to update another since we last met in November of 2002, and meet other batch mates we never saw after graduating from high school, 31 years ago.

                August 4^th, 4:30 in the morning, we left Tipolo for Dipolog City airport, to catch an early morning flight to Cebu City. Before our van left, siblings and relatives gathered around this early morning, many of them teary- eyed expressing their emotions that come with the  farewells  and goodbyes. Sending us off to the airport were Berse and Uray Nora, who both took a leave of absence from their work in the morning.

In less than an hour, we were in Cebu to continue with our vacation on the graciousness of the Chang family (Pinky and Winglip; Anthony and Xacah).  We were treated  an overnight stay  in Fort Club Med, a beach resort in Boljoon, in the  southern part of Cebu island and just a couple of hour’s drive from Cebu City. The resort was short of extraordinary, but so relaxing to both the body and the mind. The sounds of the waves as they hit the shore, the sight of the ocean spotted with islands and boats and the smell of fresh air rubbing our sun-dried skin, gave me the wonderful feeling of being so close to nature while I was hanging idly on a hammock waiting to get an afternoon nap. Back to the cottage,  Bing and Aiai were busy chatting with Pinky catching up;  Deboy indulged himself dipping in the swimming pool all the time, while Winglip and Anthony were out there diving to  explore the beauty of the forest deep below the sea.

 It is highly remarkable the island’s rugged coastline is dotted with beautiful beach resorts and hotels, serving both local and foreign tourists. Many of these investments were developed recently by local families, whose member or members are either working overseas or married to foreign nationals. On our way, we climbed the Baluarte Granada (am not sure the exact name now) and explored around this beauty of this fine resort hotel. Also, we stopped by the Boljoon Archaeological Museum inside the Boljoon Church, one of the oldest  churches in Cebu.

From Boljoon, we hurried to Tong’s all Filipino buffet restaurant for a dinner with the Gador family. Our visit here in Cebu City was very short. Inviting the Gadors (Tia Vising, Homer and family, Dante and family) to a dinner was the best way to see them all. We also invited Tio Loloy and family but they were not able to make it for a reason.

August 7^th, we left Cebu wishing we could have stayed longer.  In an hour, we found ourselves in Davao City, joining Papa and Mama and a big Mainit contingent, in town to grace the house blessing of Boy Cesar and Helen. In Davao, the fun (and our vacation) continues as we proceeded to the Paradise Island Resort Hotel for an overnight stay, courtesy of Boy Cesar. The house blessing took place after we got back from the island hotel overnight stay.

There was one thing that Aiai missed a lot since we got back to the Philippines….. shopping. While in Surigao, Aiai was always with her auntie Malou in almost all her out-of-town trips and she never went home empty handed. This is because she just loves to shop. Now, the day after the house blessing, we went out to the mall to shop. And more shopping the following day, as the mainit contingent were heading back home. The night before we left Davao, Boy and Helen treated us for a dinner in a mountaintop restaurant (Jack???) where it gave us a beautiful view of Davao City.

On the final league of our travel, we spent a couple of days in Manila en route to the US. The plane which brought us from Davao City landed in NAIA 3 in Manila, a new airport inaugurated and opened just days earlier. The construction of another airport simply hit me rock bottom.  Truly, ramdam ang kaunlaran!  Aiai did not miss to visit the Mall of Asia which is just so huge. August 12, we visited the Manzo family in Fairview, Quezon City. We got the chance to see a couple of Manhattanite friends, Mario Andrada and Myrene Aguirre. Of course we spend a lot of time chatting with the Manzos, catching up on many things. We were thankful to Mrs. Norma Nunez (Grace Mamolo’s mom) for accommodating us in their home. It was so nice to know more about her.

And it was time for us to go. August 14, 2008; 5:30 in the morning, we headed to the NAIA to catch the first leg of our flight back to the US. All of us seemed exhausted with some relief that the vacation is over. The 19 or so hours gave us the much needed rest, after all the hustles and bustles of the vacation long planned. We were back with fresh memories of a happy visit to dear relatives and friends. We’re sure; our folks back home were delighted to us, too.

                While in the province, I was awed to find internet cafés mushrooming in many remote towns. These towns wired to the information superhighway, was to me,  really unthinkable. Everywhere, a tale of two stories can be easily told by the people’s abodes.  Well-designed modern  houses sandwich shanties and lowly huts, the former implies someone in the family is either working overseas or is married to a foreign national. More good looking modern houses are constructed as  a consequence of many Filipinos getting jobs overseas.

                The significant telltales of progress did not necessarily obscure the grim reality that millions of Filipinos are still cramped below the poverty demarcation. Slums and shanties are still in existence. En route to the Fort Club Med, we drove by the South Reclamation Project in Cebu City where the experience was like driving in a US interstate. However, this near-perfect scenario is disrupted by unsightly shacks and shanties sitting on the reclaimed area.  Homeless urchins are still out there begging in the streets. Poverty, like cancer, remains an incurable social disease inflicting a lot of people. But all these were already in existence since history, and will continue to exist, no matter how high the gas prices would soar in the future.

                  Witnessing contrary to my expectations,  I was back to the US one month after,  with a  bright new perspective about my old home town. It is not that bad, after all.

When is the next visit to the Philippines? Who knows? It might be sooner that thought.

 

I AM FULLY VACCINATED AGAINST COVID-19, what now?

It’s been over 6 weeks now since I got my second dose of Moderna. As I’ve been teaching face-to-face classes, I am akin to a frontline worker as I deal with a lot of students working as front liners, some of them even showing up to class on their scrubs. So I gathered tons of patience to wait for 8 hours in line to get my first shot once I found out I am qualified to get one. This was in January 10^th.  No side effects whatsoever, were felt with the first shot, other than the usual soreness and tenderness at the injection site, I always got every time I get a shot. Reports about  side effects were posted on social media with the second dose, and so I  expected this , not as fortuitous, when my time comes. Surely, the second dose knocked me down for a day with tiredness, body aches and low-grade fever. Which meant my body’s immune system kicked in to kick out the COVID-19 coronavirus when it invades my body again!

So I am fully vaccinated against COVID-19, what now?

Other than the heightened sense of security from getting the disease, nothing else has mattered. I still wear mask in class, in going to grocery, and anywhere indoor I enter.  My wife and I, still, have never dined out, and I don’t linger for a long time inside the buffet restaurant when I pick up food to go. Nothing has changed, really.  While the Texas Governor lifted the mask-wearing mandate since March 10, store owners still have the option to require each one to wear mask, which they do, or be denied entry.  Our school still requires mask wearing, as well. It makes me wonder, as it does with anybody else, what is the vaccination for? The forever COVID guru, Dr. Anthony Fauci, even advised wearing two or three masks, even for the fully vaccinated, adding to the layers of confusion he posited since the pandemic began.  While the Centers for Disease Prevention and Control (CDC) allowed no mask wearing  in a small group of fully vaccinated, still it weakens the reliability, if not the credibility, of the vaccine.  Some things just don’t make sense!

I received an mRNA vaccine, a new breed of vaccines. Once injected, some cells in our body would use the genetic information carried by the mRNA in producing the spike proteins of the coronavirus. The spike proteins, needed by the virus to attach to the body cells, are not produced by the body. Using the mRNA in the vaccine to make the spike proteins tricks the body that it is invaded by the coronavirus. So the immune system launches the appropriate response, stimulating the activation of cells to produce antibodies against the virus. This is how the vaccine works. Pfizer and Moderna are mRNA vaccines. The Johnson and Johnson as well as the AstraZeneca vaccines are DNA vaccines.  The DNA of the coronavirus that specifies the spike proteins, carried by a virus vector, will produce mRNA when transcribed in the body cells, and the spike proteins produced trigger the immune system.

Getting the COVID vaccine is the artificial way of acquiring immunity against the virus. Individuals infected by the virus through contagion, and who got sick, must have developed a strong immunity against the virus. And which means, they don’t need to get a shot if only to follow the basic principles of immunology. Strong immunity, this is because, the entire virus gets into the body, akin to getting live vaccinations. There is a question, though, if those who were infected and remained asymptomatic, or did not develop the disease - are they getting immunity against the virus? In natural adaptive immunity, getting sick indicates the body is launching the much-needed primary immune response.

Whether immunity is acquired artificially through shots or naturally through infection, how long does the immunity against the virus last is a million-dollar question. Nobody knows, at least, for now. There are shots that confer lifelong immunity, while shots against flu is something, we need to get every year (flu season). Not much is known yet about immunity against COVID-19.  One thing is sure, though, the SARS-Cov-2 (the virus that causes COVID-19) seems to change seemingly rapidly, as variants of the virus, with different infectivity rate, have been reported. I will not be surprised if booster vaccines against COVID-19 are needed in the days ahead.

So I am fully vaccinated against COVID-19, what now?

Can I start packing up and fly to the places in the world I have planned on visiting before the pandemic? Can I visit relatives in the Philippines? Can I reactivate my gym membership without fear of getting sick with the virus? Can I speak, without the irritating and ‘breath-taking’ mask,  in giving hour-long lectures? Can I join and enjoy the company of friends in Filipino parties again?

Honestly, I am in the wait and see predicament. While science says I can do now, science has a lot to know about the virus yet.  For science can change, in a way, as the virus also changes.

Stay safe everyone!

-------------

What are you up to if you are already fully vaccinated?  Please write your comments below. Also, please follow me in my blogs.  Thank you!

When COVID Hits Home

 

Tiredness, fatigue, headache and chills. Fever that did not go away, as it kept coming back the moment the antipyretic effect of Ibuprofen thinned out ! Must be flu, after all, it’s flu season.

Who would’ve thought this beast, SARS Cov-2, can sneakily invade our home? Being in the highly vulnerable group, conscious cautious efforts were always practiced to prevent from exposure to the virus. At the get go, the CDC recommended safety practices were religiously observed in our household – masks, shields, sanitizers, washing hands and grocery items, and most of all, the sanity-breaking social isolation or lock down. We were just as paranoid as anybody else!

What if it is COVID-19, considering some of the telltale signs and symptoms?  But  anosmia (lose sense of smell) and dysgeusia (loss of taste) never occurred. Loss of appetite, may be, as it naturally comes with being ill. Even with the symptoms beginning to die down, COVID-19 testing was done in an ER visit, the rapid antigen test turned out negative, 30 minutes or so, after the painful and uncomfortable swabbing. Quite a relief, then! While negative, the swab was sent to a Laboratory facility for PCR testing, while a 10-day isolation was mandated!

Two days after the ER visit, a couple of calls, first from the ER office, and then from the Department of Health, delivered the most unwanted positive test result. This came when all the symptoms were almost gone.  And so, it seemed, the worst was over, then!

Guess what the doctor prescribed for the treatment of COVID-19? The controversial hydroxychloroquine, along with Azithromycin and anti-inflammatory steroid! Just wondering why not Remdesivir?  

There is a widespread misinformation that contracting COVID-19 is akin to getting a death penalty, especially those who are at the highly vulnerable demographic. In reality,  the death rate is relatively low, all things considered. But the fact that nobody knows how differently the body fight or respond to the infection makes us think of our vulnerability. With our experience, the response to the dreadful viral infection was beyond amazing. Mild symptoms, typical  for viral infections. Me thinks about these questions. Has the recent flu shot helped? Does taking megadose of Vitamin D supplement keep the immune system better equipped to deal with the viral infection.  Or was it just plain random ‘luck’ that the less deadly strain of the virus invaded our home? Nobody knows!

The war against the COVID-19 coronavirus is like man against beast! Ironically, the beast is the invisible and seemingly invincible coronavirus which continues to pose a big threat to humanity. That’s how this ferocious battle between science and nature can be aptly described, so to speak. As it is right now, the coronavirus is still on the lead, leaving humanity on the edge. More lives are still lost, logarithmic infection rate still on the scale. And while science is inching closer to a step in curbing down the infection rate, the mighty beast has evolved a variant strain with its infectivity much higher than the ‘original’ strain.

Somehow, the natural infection made our bodies acquire active immunity against the disease. But it’s not yet time to shed off that mask and face shield, and  being unmindful of social distancing. Not yet, even with millions of vaccines  already dispensed. The risk of reinfection is real, especially since the virus is rapidly evolving. This coronavirus is here to stay, may be for a long time!

So, let’s keep safe everyone!

Life During the Pandemic Year 2020: My Personal Reflections (part 2)

 It would seem preposterous to say that the COVID-19 pandemic brought in nothing else, other than loss of  lives, massive loss of livelihood due to economic recession, and all sorts of sufferings in catastrophic magnitude.  On the brighter side of things, a few things came out good as the pandemic continued to rampage humanity.

As a biologist and believer of evolution, I reckon that COVID-19 is one force, just like any deadly disease, that drives the natural selection process.  I hate what  I just posited. And many people will hate me, too,  for  seemingly insensitive  and for lack of empathy  for those who lost a loved one or two, to the disease.  But ‘tis the sad biological reality, as it occurs in all forms of life, the human species is continuously evolving.

I never had taught online classes before. When all classes were unexpectedly ordered to transition to remote delivery with the start of the pandemic, by force majeure, I had to change the pedagogy halfway through the semester. It was difficult for me, even more difficult for my students!  Online platform may be effectively used in some courses, I thought. But it might not be good for skills-based courses especially in the sciences with laboratory components- the reason for my utter lack of interest in teaching courses online.  But this pandemic had me underwent a sharp paradigm shift, affording new opportunity for me to acquire and sharpen new instructional strategies in an online environment. As such, it helped me develop professionally!

I have diverse groups of students in my classes, a commonplace demography in community colleges. Dealing with these students, who were coping up with adversities in their family and work situations, taught myself more about empathy and compassion.  I needed to be more flexible and more accommodating to my students  than what I once was before, without compromising expectations.

It turned out, working or shall I say, teaching remotely at home, had its perks. I never had to wake so early in the morning to catch up the 8:00 lecture, and never had to get home late after the late night classes. I could be in my classroom without dressing nicely, so that literally, I could teach while on my underwear!  It saved me some pennies since I didn’t have to leave home to  drive to work.

It was during this pandemic year when I got the most precious gift – the coming of our grandson. This doesn’t mean though that my own kids were not that precious.  Absolutely, each one is! But the arrival of Keith  Sebastian (aka Patoot), brought in a different kind of joy, only grandparents can relate. This amazingly adorable and admirable rascal has become the center of our world. His presence in our lives made us forget, albeit perfunctory, the conundrum COVID-19 is spreading. He sure is our ultimate source of happiness.

When will this pandemic end is a question in everybody’s mind. And the answer remains in the dark.  What is certain is that the coronavirus will continue to live among us.  As science has gained  better understanding the virus  and has developed the vaccines against the virus, humanity will soon be spared from further devastations caused by this pandemic.

My hope is that, soon, things will get  normal, even if it’s going to be a new normal!

--------------

What are your personal reflections about the pandemic year?  Please write your comments below. Better still, please follow me in all my blogs.  Happy new year everyone!

Life During the Pandemic Year 2020: My Personal Reflections (part 1)

 

My wife and I welcomed 2020 on a Carnival Cruise in the Caribbean. It was our very first time to board a gargantuan ship, jam packed with  people, who just like us, were trying  to punctuate the holiday season with a different note – aboard a carrier with inclusive luxurious amenities, where a variety of foods is unlimited,  booze  inundating, entertainment  never ending, and not to mention the offshore excursions. It was a fun-filled weeklong carefree vacation!

In the weeks that followed, a novel coronavirus – later on identified as SARS Cov-2, known to cause the COVID-19 disease, topped in the international news headlines. The virus spread faster than it was thought that, it had literally gone viral (pun intended) in social media. Soon, while epidemiologists learned more information about the virus and the disease, worldwide, scores of people get the infection and among them –especially the elderly and those with health issues succumbed to COVID-19 related deaths. The alarmingly increasing global morbidity and mortality rates (even up to the present), prompted the World Health Organization (WHO) to declare it as a pandemic!

Rumors had it that reports about the coronavirus surfaced as early as November (2019), and considering the scarcity if not lack of knowledge about the virus, it could’ve started transmitting earlier than it was reported. In hindsight, this virus could’ve been carried by a few passengers in the Carnival ship we’re in.  Who knows?  That cruise we took happened in a good timing. Otherwise, had we scheduled it during the Spring Break, it could’ve become a long, unwanted, crazy and life-threatening ordeal of a quarantine hell!

The COVID-19 pandemic happens to be the second in my lifetime, AIDS being the first. But its impact is nowhere near AIDS.  Other known pandemics include the bubonic plague or Black Death in the 14^th-15^th century, and the Spanish flu pandemic in 1918. Humanity is so continuously under constant threat with emerging deadly diseases, many were feared to reach pandemic proportion if they were not prevented promptly. There was  MERS (Middle East Respiratory Syndrome), SARS (Severe Acute Respiratory Syndrome), Swine Flu (H1N1), Ebola and Zika.

 This current pandemic seems like a curse or a nightmare people would unimaginably want. Global lockdown, in an attempt to avert COVID-19 transmission, has been extremely catastrophic in many fronts. It has needlessly yet significantly altered the way people live, and die! It caused massive job loss, occurring at exponential rate. Many families plunged into the uncertainty of having food in their next meal, or keeping the roof above their heads.  With schools closing at all levels, working parents got extra work – helping their children with school works. Certain aspects of life stood still. No travels, no dining out, no parties, no bars. Loved ones died alone, and were buried with neither the traditional rituals nor requiem.  So sad and depressing, these sordid states of affairs have immensely taken a tool on people’s (including children’s) mental health.

Our school’s spring break in March was ending, and as I was reluctantly conditioning myself back to work when the announcement extending the break to another week came. I was extremely delighted to hear about getting another week long break! Little did I know that it marked the beginning of the big catastrophe looming, threatening humanity for the rest of the year, with no end in sight until now.

However, in an unprecedented manner, vaccines against the SARS Cov-2  virus are beginning to be administered. This is a significant development in the multifaceted efforts to beat the deadly virus, and it provides a sliver of hope in the still long and arduous on-going fight against the disease.

Definitely, the year 2020 will be well remembered with the occurrence of this pandemia,  and will go down in the books as another deadliest one!

Meanwhile, life must continue to be lived on. And as we  bid adieu to 2020, let us rejoice and celebrate life as we welcome, with high hopes and great optimism, the new  year 2021.

Happy new year to all! 

------

Please leave your comments and follow me in my blogs.  Thank you.

Giving Back

March 14, 2014 - our dearest mother died of pneumonia. Her death did not come to us, the siblings, a surprise as she battled with the disease for some time. But even then, her passing left a huge vacuum in our lives, as her presence, especially towards her last years, turned our lives around. She knew, so well,  how we appreciated her and our late father's sacrifices and  preternatural vision, which swept us to where we are. She could not be more proud of herself, with the herculean handiwork she had crafted, in molding the idiosyncratic persona me and my siblings assume, into becoming better productive individuals. How she did seems amazingly unprecedented! We knew, that in our parents' death, they took with them the joy and pride, as we made them proud!

Looking back in my early years, before I took off to spread my wings, life in our household was tough and was always a constant struggle. Minimalist lifestyle, was all there is, not by choice. Poverty glued to the family so strongly, that at times, we made our parents felt 'mea culpa'. But despite of everything, our dear nanay made us turn around from this vapid predicament, to severe the imposing bondage of poverty. And that is by bequeathing to us the powerful legacy of education!

To honor the legacy of our parents - that is in proselytizing the transforming power of education, I initiated, and my siblings concurred,  the creation of a non-profit eponymous foundation dubbed as Bernardo-Sebastiana Doyungan Educational Initiative (BSDEI). The objective of this Initiative is to poverty is not a roadblock to success'. We humbly try to showcase ourselves, in  demonstrating the transforming power of education.  As such, the Initiative adopted the elementary school, where most of our siblings finished elementary education, and pupils in this school receive all the school supplies at the start of the every school year. To motivate pupils to do well in school, cash awards are given to top five honor roll pupils/students, in a few select schools thus far,  in appreciation and recognition of their academic
excellence, at the end of the school year. encourage the community, especially parents with school-age children and the pupils, the pursuit of education, despite of poverty.  Our Initiative embraces the time-tested cliche   " poverty is not a roadblock to success".

Now, on its fifth year of existence, we continue to go back to the elementary school where our educational journey took off. We have given cash awards to top five graduates in three elementary schools and a high school. We continue to encourage the people in that community to tool the children with education, as they look forward to our visit every start and end of the school year. Our Initiative, as we know, can only give this much of material support, but it is hoped that the impact is felt in the families decades after we gladly hand in school supplies to the pupils.

For certain, this Initiative commemorating our dearly beloved parents (Bernardo and Sebastiana Doyungan), is making them more proud of us. This is our way of giving back to them, by giving back to the community!

A 2017 Year Ender Reflection

Where did time go? Sounds a cliche, yet this question keeps on  popping in people's minds. Every time! And it does on mine. As I struggle to bring back the memories, both the good and  not-so-good, to  the surface, the events that unfolded this year before it slips away, I needed to close my eyes, then look back and scan every byte of the files archived  in my brain over the past months. I could hardly believe, the bit of difficulty I encountered in retrieving some of them. And so, I may just have to indulge with a few, which clearly stood out and provided the colorful tapestry of 2017!

I welcomed the year in Vancouver, British Columbia, Canada, with my family, in a vacation treat trip. Since our kids started leading their own lives,  seldom it happens that we are altogether in one place to usher in the new year. And so this one was so memorable for us! With a chef now in our family, it was almost impossible not to go on food trip, sampling on the diverse culinary cuisines Vancouver has to offer. And so we did, driving through the snowy roads, or queuing under the subzero temperature outside a not-so-fancy restaurant, just to enjoy what was considered the best ramen in town. One thing I noticed myself, this could very well be part of midlife crisis, is developing a little passion to explore new things, ones  I missed doing in my youth! Climbing up to the snow-capped Mt. Seymour in Victoria (British Columbia) with my kids, presented that rare opportunity for me to try snow skiing. What an experience it was, to conquer one of my life's greatest enemies - fear!

Time really flies so fast, that this year marks our three decades (yes - 30 years!) of marital bliss. Daughter Alison and her hubby Nathan, and with son Zaldy - planned and hosted our wedding anniversary celebration. A simple backyard ceremony, complete with entourage, was held under the Cathedral of the  Skies, to renew the marriage vows we made and  promised to keep and cherish 30 years ago. A church pastor officiated the traditional Filipino rites, which was witnessed by close family friends.  With social media, a live coverage of the ceremony allowed some relatives and friends to join us virtually!

Who could forget Harvey? Not Harvey Weinstein!., although this guy is equally unforgettable as hurricane Harvey (and which can be an interesting topic for another blog).  Truth to tell, the moment wife and I decided to leave Corpus Christi to seek shelter to a safer place following mandatory evacuation advisory due to the magnanimous catastrophic threat posed by Harvey, I was grappling with the greatest fear I ever have in my life. News about catastrophic devastation caused by hurricanes are, to me, horrendous. And here I was, in a predicament which sent chills down to my spine. While navigating through the intermittent sluggish traffic in the highway, my mind was out wandering and wondering about the hows, the whys and what ifs, if the threat of extensive damage delivered by a category 4 hurricane in the forecast came to fruition. The unthinkably horrible pictures of the destruction left by Katrina and catapulted New Orleans on edge, came rushing back to me.  Confusion overcast my mind, as I kept hoping against hope, at this time of hopelessness and uncertainty. Then, I recalled, 'I'll cross the bridge when I get there', one of my life's mantra. This roused me up to my senses,  kept my sanity, calmed me down and brought me inner peace, and made me conquer my greatest enemy - fear! And  sure,  Harvey made a catastrophic landfall with historic proportion as predicted, however, in nearby areas but not in Corpus Christi!

Snow in Corpus Christi? Nature, if not, the mineralogists must be kidding! And so I thought. I have this love-hate-relationship with snow, if not winter weather in particular. Having lived in Corpus for years now, where people still wear shorts in winter, and in our household, we don't even turn our heat on, makes me miss playing with snow. A few years back, when we drove to our old hometown in Kansas to usher in the new year , I was amazingly thrilled watching the snowflakes falling down from the skies blanketing the land. The level of excitement was almost comparable to the first time I had with snow. Then, last year's trip to Vancouver got us the chance to play with snow again! Thirteen years ago, in Christmas eve of 2004, people in Corpus Christi were treated and joyfully celebrated their white Christmas, the event was dubbed as Christmas miracle. I have not heard of any history of snowfall prior to this. And so recently, when the forecast consistently point snowing in our place, I was a hardcore doubting Thomas! And to give credit to the forecast, I gave it a benefit of a doubt, and I succeeded in convincing myself that utmost, snow would only come in flurries. I was absolutely wrong! Waking up, my eyes glowed in total excitement seeing the almost-always parched land blanketed with immaculately white snow! It was incredible but it happened!

Life is in itself a drama. Its saga is continuously serendipitous, and the story is entirely dependent on what tomorrow brings. Actors are unrehearsed, as they reveal their core of who they are in the ways they react to the life's daily grind. No script. No directors. No stage. And as the year 2017 is almost behind us, we  are inching towards the curtain call of this year's episode.

What a wonderful year 2017 has been! To friends and all, let's celebrate for great year!

Another Year Older

When my life hit a mid-century mark six years ago, I did a serious soul-searching. I looked back at my footprints, examined the things I did and the things I missed doing. And from that life's  new vantage point, I looked forward and made a bucket list of the things to do in the next 10, 20 or so years. Below is a part of the blog I wrote about the bucket list.

Visiting places I once dreamed to be, tops in my list. In the blog I wrote for my 50th birthday (Turning Five-O), I said  'I know there is a big wide beautiful world out there waiting to be explored. I'd love to meet the god and goddesses in their ancient territories in Greece; climb up to the top the Eiffel Tower in Paris, France; wander around the Stonehenge in England; jump into a camel's hump for a ride around the Pyramids in Egypt; or sample the foods along the streets of Florence, Italy'. Added to this is a visit to the Land Down Under! In my wishful thinking, a week-long travel to any of these places, one place per year, will keep my travel plans booked for the next ten years.

So where I am now so far, 6 years after? I guess, here and there!

                  

  Ayers Rock or Uluru in  Central Australia        Sydney, Australia waiting for the 

                                                                         new year 2014  to usher in.

                            

August 2016, Went to Paris, France just recently but did not get the chance to climb up to the top of the Eiffel tower, but I roamed around the mysterious Stonehenge in Salisbury, England.

                            

Wandered in the narrow cobblestone streets in Florence, Italy but I had never sampled their street foods.

Life's journey has been good. Been to many places not found on the bucket list. I still have get into the camel's hump and meet the gods and goddesses in Greece. But as I strike out items after items from the list, new items show up. This list may never get shorter, as the years keep coming to my life and only if I am still able.

For now, am just thankful as I start anew with another year in my life. Happy birthday, to me!

My Share of Politics

Politics was never a part of me while growing up. Largely because my parents were apolitical. It does not really  mean discussions about something politics in the households were nonexistent, then. There were, however, very limited - to  information that were disseminated through the radio, if not by word of mouth. My first awareness of an election was the  Macapagal-Marcos presidential election in 1965. No, I wasn't a voter that time! I waited for 16 years before I could, when voting age was still at 21.

I developed interests in political activism in college, as I moved from a far-flung village, where life is so naive and is plainly simple, to a metropolitan where the daily conundrum seems to involve politics. Even in the campus, some 'left-leaning' student organizations had their way, despite of the school's strict and highly restrictive regulations, engaging fellow students with extra-academic issues including socio-political activism. Got a few classmates and friends who were active, and had been out in the streets in rallies and demonstrations.

Not until I did my graduate work in UP-Diliman that politics slowly started rooting in my being. In the early afternoon of August 21, 1983, while we, the dormitory residents, were doing our sportsfest, news broke that Ninoy Aquino was assassinated in the Manila International Airport, on his arrival back to the Philippines. Waves and waves of demonstrations and protests were held daily following the well-staged event. And then, I found myself among so many, shouting and chanting, as we braved the heat and exhaustion, while walking from the Diliman campus down to Plaza Miranda.

I learned that as a citizen, I can't just be pathetic, indifferent or numb. I was endowed with senses of sight and hearing to see and hear how things are going around us, and the mental faculty to evaluate how the unfolding of events impact us and the generations who'll come after us. I was moved by the this question which relentlessly reverberated in the halls of UP - 'sinong kikilos kung walang kikilos, sinong kibo kung walang kikibo, kung hindi ngayon, kailan pa?'. There was my eureka moment. That I have the freedom to express what's on my mind, to be part of the voice that speaks for those who never had the chance to vent their minds.

I realized that politics is a way of life, not just only during elections. People choose individuals to lead the reins of governance who are in turn expected to protect the interests and to better the lives of the governed. But the politics we have known today has transcended way beyond the welfare of the governed, with interests permeating and funneled to personal gains and enrichment. To allow this unscrupulous practice to keep going is for the governed to do nothing!

Makibaka! Get involved!












  

Visiting Papa Cesar

        Our quick trip to the Philippines next week does not excite me at all. It's gonna be nothing short of depressing. It brings back sad memories of my most recent and equally short trip, almost two years ago, to attend my mom's funeral. Don't get me wrong, this time we're not traveling for same reason. May be close, as we‘ll visit my wife's dad, moribund on his deathbed, clinging to his dear life.

        I have always considered myself blessed, becoming a member of the Mozar family. It was an honor to have called Mama Alice to my late mother-in-law, whom I adored and loved just like my own, and Papa Cesar, the man I looked up to so highly.

         I did hear a lot about Papa Cesar, even before becoming a member to his immediate family. All the things I heard, though, can be knitted into few words - strict, disciplinarian, firm. Where a no means no - no buts, no ifs.

         Papa's strong fraternal (father) authoritative figure is something he put into practice long before becoming a father himself, this I was told. He took the responsibilities of being a father, along with his mother, at a relatively early age, when his father left them raising another family. And for this, he earned high regards and respect from everybody - his siblings, his family, his colleagues at work, the community.

         Knowing and noting what Papa was like, I took caution and gathered a lot of courage when I first came to Mainit, Surigao del Norte, to meet him with the intent of asking for his permission for me to marry her 'favorite' daughter. I anticipated a few things, not necessarily akin to the 'Meet The Parents' antics, which kept my mind guessing wildly while we're on our way aboard a passenger bus.  I learned he does not have any vices at all. And that he keeps himself busy tending to  his fighting cocks, when not at work as the principal in the local public high school. He enjoys going to local cockfight games, betting for his cock, or somebody else's, his way of unwinding during weekends. I never was a fan of cockfighting and had been to a few games just in the neighborhood, but I tried preparing myself for this possible topic for conversation.

         While in Mainit, I waited for the opportune moment when I can talk with him about my sincere intention. Back in my mind, I'd been rehearsing the lines I had to say, so many times. The day came when we were to leave town, armed with my rehearsed lines, I joined Papa while doing his usual morning routine feeding his fighting cock collection. I was about to open my mouth to deliver my lines when he, in a soft spoken voice, asked me, 'what are your plans? when are you planning to settle down?'.  Whoa! Things were made easy for me!

         I came to know more and more about Papa as the 28 or so years of being a family member came and went.  He is a man of candor, honor and few words. He is a public servant in most of his adult life, mentoring young minds on the importance of education while straightening the crookedness of the misguided few kids, all aimed at making them productive members of society. He is  a friend to many who believe in his leadership, and a foe to a few who despise him for standing firm to what is fair and just. As most people do, he lives mostly within his comfort zone.

         He is such a thoughtful father. My wife, third in the brood of five, told me she cannot forget the moments when Papa cooked adobo, packed it on empty milk tins and sent it to her when she was in college. I cannot thank him enough for his thoughtfulness, when he kindly shelled out  personal money for the installation of water pump in our humble abode, after finding out our water supply problem. This is just to name a few!  For certain, his other children would have more to say, attesting to  his thoughtfulness and loving kindness.

         Lately, as Papa's sun approaches the other end of the horizon, his age takes a toll on him. Alzheimer's slowly takes away the priceless and precious memories of his, once,  illustrious life and career. A mild stroke affects his motor and coordination functions, affecting among other things,  his gait. Then, a bacterial infection clandestinely eats the muscles on his leg - a condition called necrotizing fasciitis, causing the dismemberment of his right leg. Recurrent pneumonia makes breathing for him a chore. And right now, he's lying on his bed at home, discharged from the hospital as the attending physician ran out of treatment option for him!

        As we prepare to physically visit Papa Cesar, I had the opportunity to visit with him in the past, bringing back to the surface of my mind all the good memories of a good man and a great father. 

     Hang in there Pa, we will be there soon.

---------
Update: Papa breathed his last while we were still en route to the Philippines. A sad quick homecoming, yet it ended up with a happy note - the ills and pains that mortals endure are no more for him.

Mini Diary - My Trip to the Land Down Under

December 16, 2014.  Tuesday. Left house for Corpus Christi International Airport 300 pm for the first leg of our trip to Melbourne, Australia, A 6:00 pm American Air flight brought us to  Dallas-FortWorth where a gigantic Qantas Airline two-storey plane would bring us to Sydney, Australia. American Air is always known for delays, and for this were nearly missed our Aussie-bound connection. The flight to Sydney from Dallas was very long,  a little over 16  hours, cruising across the vast Pacific Ocean. Initially, just the thought of this long flight seemed an ordeal for me. But time flew so fast, specially as I was not mindful about it. After watching an inflight movie and with some sleep, not quite restful though, I woke up with just the few remaining hours of the long flight.

December 18, 2014. Thursday. Arrived in Sydney, Australia on schedule, 6:40 in the morning to be exact. Because Sydney is 17 hours ahead our local Texas time, it seemed I missed a day, December 17 that is.  We trooped to the baggage claim to pick up our checked suitcase before clearing ourselves with Australian Immigration and Customs. Our suitcase did not fly with us, it turned out, and so we had to seek lost baggage service assistance with Qantas Airlines. Wife and I were a little apprehensive if our checked baggage made it to the Dallas-Sydney connection. Having spent so much time in the baggage claim carousel, hoping that our checked luggage would show up, we missed our Sydney-Melbourne original connection. Good thing, Qantas did not have problem in booking us to the next available flight to Melbourne. So Melbourne... here we come!

My anticipation for a summer weather meeting us in Melbourne proved unrealistic. Turned out, the temperature forecast for the next days ranged similar to what we've been having in Corpus Christi. Our first night in Melbourne was capped with a nice dinner along with the lively never-ending chitchats and nice wine, with our kind and hospitable hosts - David and Zoraida Sudweeds.

December 19, 2014. Friday. Day 1. It seemed quite unusual that despite of the 17-hour difference separating Corpus Christi from Melbourne, I did not get a jet lag. Anyway, Bing and I were up early preparing for day of our vacation. Destination: Melbourne City tour.  Took the tram to explore the city. Got to tour inside the Victorian Parliament, marveling on the sparkling gold-studded ceilings. Dropped by the Rod Laver Arena, venue of the world famous Australian Open Tennis Tournament. Capping the lazy city stroll was a climb to the Memorial of Remembrance.

December 20, 2014. Saturday. Day 2. Get lag was not really that bad. Wife and I were both roused by early morning  hunger pangs as we skipped dinner last night, and retired early exhausted from the day's city tour. Today, our gracious hosts would drive us some 250 kms to the country for an overnight stay in Raymond's island upon their friends' invite. I was excited for this trip to have a close encounter with koalas on their natural habitat.

Got to Raymond Island, Paynesville, Victoria past 2 pm, and were met by the equally gracious and wonderful couple, Peter and Jill Peterson. Peter kindly gave us a tour to the island, driving us around to sites frequented by kangaroos, and where koalas take their daytime respite. The day was capped by a very nice Australian dinner with wine, and a lot of chitchats.

December 21, 2014. Sunday. Day 3. Still romanticizing in Raymond Island. As if I didn't have enough about the koalas, I was gazing at rubber trees to have a glimpse of the sleeping koalas as we walked around the Island, this time by foot following the koala trail and on the board walk. The scenery was relaxing. I would understand why many Australian retirees opted to live on the Island, including Peter and Jill. Being close to nature gives that feeling of tranquility and being in life's harmony, too remote from their once stressful metropolitan lives.

After lunch, Zoraida drove us back to Melbourne, in time for the dinner invitation of Doods (Dodong Meliton), Zoraida's younger sibling, and his wife Joy and family. It was very nice seeing them once again, The last time I saw them was a decade ago before they set foot to Australia. Likewise, it was a pleasure meeting Alda (Zoraida's sister) and husband Leo, and their children for the first time.

December 22, 2014. Monday. Day 4. Up for another out-of-city trip. Zoraits drove for about 10 hours total for us to see the spectacular The Great Ocean Road and unto the Twelve Apostles in Port Campbell, Victoria. The Great Ocean Road is a long and winding road zigzagging along the white sand covered coastline of the Southern Sea. Driving through scenic view was a wondrous treat especially to nature lovers. The same road then departs off the coastline traversing through a deep forest reserve and brought us back to another part of the ocean where land formations, originally twelve of them thus called the Twelve Apostles stood, in Port Campbell, Victoria. Apparently,  four of the 'apostles'  have seemingly been down and drowned, eroded as the ocean waves eternally keep touching their sun-kissed stratified bodies.

------

We Have Come This Far....

     

Last Tuesday, April 8, my wife and I  celebrated our 27th wedding anniversary. Could hardly believe we have come this far, living and sharing our lives together! The years seemed to  have come and gone too quickly. As I tried to look back those years gone by, memories of our blissful years came rolling down my brain. And I chart them to where they are now as our marriage has come this far.

      Our household used to be a playpen of two lovely and adorable kids. Early on, our lives revolved around them, insuring that we were there for them all the time.They filled our lives as a family in ways too many:  joy, satisfaction, pride, anxiety, some rage, and tons of love. They taught us many things, among them how to care, love, share our lives with them. And they made us realize that we don't own them, instead we are just their stewards, a transit point in their journey called life. That, in due time, we had to let them fly and set them free, leaving us back to each other to the time before they came to us!

    Our kids are now out there, charting a  course as they carve their niche in this, oftentimes, harsh reality called life. Their departures left a vacuum and a wide space to ourselves. I nurtured mixed feelings, a celebratory gladness and  a sense of loss, when we walked our daughter down the aisle in their garden wedding last year. But didn't we do this 27 years ago? Ahh, the cycle of life! Living on an empty nest, that is what we are now. However, this vacuum is partly filled by a feline whose antics and ways, at times, kept our eyes at her!

     So what may have kept us come this far?

     Complacency, a little bit of it, could be a part of the norm as the years keep adding to our marriage. However, part of who we are as individuals, big or small, remains  and hopefully, will continue to be respectfully held high, rather than becoming an abject desire. For this keeps us as a person. Compromise, unconditional forgiveness, patience, deep level understanding, undying love, and sometimes, self-denial are some of the ingredients that may keep our  flame of marriage burning! This, however, is spiced up with marital spats and LQ's (lovers' quarrels), preventing humdrum to seep in into our relationship!

     Developing tolerance to certain things, is a major player for making a  compromise.  This is not to find our ways, our likes, our images in our spouse. Making some changes to meet halfway, or trying to accept things the way they are, seems no brainier! When there is so much love around! This could either be a practice of 'sweet surrender' or simply 'just do it'. As Blake Shelton, a famous country singer songwriter puts it on his song, 'I keep doing what she likes'! 


    Twenty seven years in our marriage have come and gone! We look forward to many more years together! And we'll continue to value and celebrate those years as they come, one year at a time!

    Happy anniversary my dear wife!

    
     
     

In Memoriam: Farewell My Dear Nanay

     Suddenly, I have to travel to the Philippines. I have to be in her funeral and bid my last farewell. This time, even if she could hear me no more. While my mind was wandering, clueless what awaits for me in this sudden and very long journey yet a very short trip to the Philippines, memories were rushing back to the days of my rebellious youth, when I lived with my parents. Thoughts about what  Nanay kept telling me came afloat.  Her words  I thought, were meaningless, as I trekked down the ‘teen years’ of my  life. Her words were, to me,  like a ‘broken record’ which kept playing over and over. My brain’s prefrontal lobe, obviously, was not quite in shape yet back then.

     And as I continued indulging with my self-reckoning back to that ‘glorious past’, I had to put up a fight against my lacrimal glands, holding back tears that build up from rolling down. For ‘grown up guys never cry’, so says a song!

     I was in a small plane on the first of the four legs in this journey. I was seated next to a mom, may be in her  late 30’s or early 40’s, with an unpredictably friendly  months’-old baby girl on her lap, another baby girl may be less than two years and probably a five-year old son, both sitting in front of us. The baby, obviously having cold, smiled at me when her mom sat back as I claimed my window seat. The mom, obviously had her hands full with the  kids, stopping the son to catch  wireless signal for the iphone she just switched it to airplane mode, the friendly baby mumbling something gibberish demanding for something as she played with her mom’s credit cards and driver license card. The  two-year old was busy playing Dora on her electronic gizmo. At take off, the baby started throwing  tantrum and cried so loudly. Mom was trying to appease her, making sounds every animal shown on each page of the baby book she leafed through, while at the same time trying to keep the two-year old buckled up as she was standing on her seat. I watched them as I leaned my head against the airplane window.

     The scenario reminded me of my Nanay, who had to deal with more than three kids. Personally, I found it highly unthinkable how my parents raised us. And it is even more unimaginable how my Nanay shaped and molded us.

------------

     How well do I know my Nanay? Not well enough, especially about her childhood life. I thought she was a child out of wedlock. Orphaned at an early age, when her single mom who raised her and  two other siblings, died. Her uncle (her mom’s brother) took custody and raised her and her sister. Perhaps, the strict and disciplinarian way the uncle raised her made her a strong woman with a keen sense of vision.

She grew up wanting in many things. Love of a family growing up as a child, formal higher education, wealth. I wondered if she ever had friends. She got married to my Tatay at age 16, during the height of the World War II. And that was when our big family started! Through the years that followed, she was held hostage in domesticity, single handedly raising kids which kept coming every two years, while Tatay was away, his  menial job took him away from home.  Just like the mom I met in the plane, who seemed a little unkempt and oblivious about herself, I thought, this was how Nanay lived her life, for so long.

     Nanay, by default, exemplified living a life of modesty and simplicity. Minimalist when it comes to material things. Her clothes could very well be outnumbered by the fingers in her hands. She brushed aside and laughed at a comment of my older sister’s high school classmate that ‘every time he saw  Nanay, she was wearing  same dress’.

     But nothingness is not all there is for Nanay.  She had big hopes and dreams for us. In her broken English, she would keep telling us not once but over and over, ‘when fortune, passes no more!. She kept teling us if we would not do good in school, we would end up porters or hire-per-day laborers. Not that she had some things against these jobs, she was just envisioning a better and more stable future for us. Nanay’s visionary crystal ball saw things differently for us. Instead of sending us down the streets begging for money or asking us to work and earn a daily wage, she sent us to school. She and Tatay had the thickest of skin, armed with courage and readiness to accept rejection as they approached many people to owe and loan money for our school needs. They both did not give up, despite of the humiliations they sometimes endured. And there were times, they got encouraging support and admiration from people who understood and believed in what they were doing.  Doing this was, so we their children would not  share the same experience they have had, their joint strategy  out to break the cycle of poverty!

     It took years before my parents became somewhat emancipated from the entrapment of nothingness. Their hardships and sacrifices somewhat paid off. They may had apparently reaped what they sowed. And for certain, they took pride, and experienced  great joy and  sense of accomplishment, for what they dreamed about us came to fruition. 

     So Nanay, as you leave us now, thank you for everything that you went through and what you did for all of us! You conquered the nothingness which entwined you, and gave it light to make the truth shine that poverty is not a hindrance to success.

   Well done, Nanay, well done! Time for you to get that eternal rest!