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.

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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.

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     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!

A Tribute to My Dearest Mother

This is a re-post of my blog posted on May 10, 2013. I am dedicating this tribute to my dearest Nanay who is currently fighting for her life in the hospital. Whatever will come next, Nanay, you have lived a life that's worth celebrating. You have fought hard enough and have won every battle a long time ago! And for this, we shall be eternally grateful.
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    There is something special and unique in being a mother. It’s all about sacrifice, taking risks, and beating  all odds in bringing a new life. It’s about giving oneself so that others will become whole. And this holds water for both biological and surrogate mothers who carried their babies to term. For motherhood is the ‘essence of a woman’. 

     ‘We owe a lot to our mothers’, this I always  stress to my students when we talk about reproduction in the Anatomy and Physiology class. And the reasons are plenty. It begins with oogenesis or egg cell formation, when oocyte prepares and accumulates a wealth of materials required to support the earliest embryonic developmental events that immediately follow after fertilization.  As such, the energy-producing mitochondria in every cell of our body all came from mom’s egg. And not to mention,  half of our DNA comes from our mom’s, too.

     But there’s a lot more to motherhood than the material legacy mothers bequeathed to their children. There is that emotional and hormonal roller-coaster ride throughout the nine-month journey called pregnancy. Early on, there is that yucky  nauseous feeling which comes with morning sickness as it occurs not only in the mornings but all day long. And there's mood swings, fatigue, headaches, constipation. As the fetus gets bigger, mom tends to suffer from shortness of breath as the baby pushes the diaphragm up and the urge to frequently urinate as the fetus presses  the urinary bladder down to the pelvic floor. And there are more changes associated with later pregnancy which  mothers had to endure: itchiness, stretch marks, muscle cramps, limb varicose and swellings, and pre-eclampsia. I remembered my wife having regular asthma attacks for almost the entire duration of her pregnancy with our first born. 

 

     Then comes the time when the expectant mother faces the ultimate challenge.  Pains, so excruciating,  come and go as labor started. The labor pains become more frequent  and more intense as  labor progresses. I spent sometime inside the delivery room when wife was giving birth to our daughter. I felt so useless when I could do nothing else but watch the wife suffering from recurrent intense pains that come with labor. And then, when necessary, the mom may undergo episiotomy if not a caesarian section  when conditions do not warrant normal baby delivery.

     But all of these seem to fade away the moment the mother sees her child for the first time. She becomes completely oblivious of the discomforts and pains she endured, as she regains her strength and shapes up her tenacity to raise the baby she just gave birth. And so her sacrifices continue.

     Let's celebrate each day as mother's day.  Let's make that special woman in our life feel so special. Hug your mom. Call her. Thank her for all what she did and she went through. For nobody is born without a mother!

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    And for our dear Nanay, should it be time for you to go, do it in peace! For after all those 87 years in your earthly sojourn, it may be time for an eternal rest!

After Yolanda

I've been receiving a lot of queries from my colleagues at work, my students and a few friends about how my family and relatives back home were affected by the super typhoon Haiyan (local code name: Yolanda). My response I always held back, as I was almost tempted to answer they were lucky. Lucky because they were being way far off the destructive path of the unwanted calamitous visitor. But I resent to use the word lucky. Why? Because there were a lot of people back home, short of being lucky, suffered the unthinkable magnitude of the destruction and wreckage that Yolanda left behind. And for the many who lost their lives, I am almost tempted to consider them lucky as well, for they don't have to endure hunger, thirst, pain, the stench, the grief of losing loved ones, looting, and yes the never ending negative publicity that's perpetuating in social media.
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The night Yolanda was supposed to hit the Philippines, I was unusually hooked to Facebook, checking updates from home every time I woke up. The periodic updating I got made me sleep calmly through the rest of the night. And then, the video footage, shown on TV and posted on FB,  as the destruction unfolded with Yolanda's landfall, not once, not twice but many times, capturing the eerie howl of the winds stronger than the equally notorious US's Katrina and Sandy, and the storm surge akin to the rushing waters in the Day After Tomorrow, had said it all. Tacloban and the surrounding areas were never the same again!
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The days that follow after Yolanda, there was seemingly lawlessness in the hardly hit areas,and looting has become a commonplace. The survivors, instinctively driven by the 'survival of the fittest' feat would do anything and everything to keep themselves (and their families)  alive. And this was while appropriate agencies (government and private) worked their way to get into the jungle of scattered broken limbs or uprooted trees, fallen power poles,  stretches of impassable roads, and broken infrastructures. But help was on the way!
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And then the blame game. Filipinos are good 'turists', good at 'turo-turo'! Finger pointing!
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It is understandable why many people felt so badly about the sluggish response of the government. They felt the pain, the grief, the agony, the hunger, the utter sense of helplessness and hopelessness of the destitute survivors. For they could be their parents, brothers, sisters, relative or friends. But let's not be quick at pointing that accusing finger as to who  is to blame! While every netizen has the right to express his concerns, views and opinions, and to ventilate his grievances or complaints, spreading accusations that could be baseless and false, and even derogatory to authorities do not help at all! Yes, it took days before government can deliver substantial relief impact to the survivors, but for a reason! There were many planes available to deliver food to the hardly-hit areas but the airport is not functional! When earthquake hit Bohol, there were no qualms or complaints about government inefficiency. Because there were no major roadblocks in their activities. Not in the Yolanda-stricken areas!
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In the days after Yolanda, I held back  posting my thoughts, opinions and observations on FB. I watched post after post. It's been one week now since the catastrophe, still a lot of netizens have nothing else but negative postings. And the posts were hateful and divisive! Granting that all the rants are true, some people have to bear the brunt consequences of their choices. Come on folks: when you point an accusing finger to a person you believed is to be blamed,  the other 3 fingers are pointing back at you. If you think that the president or politicians are to be blamed for this brouhaha, think again! For you may have elected him/them into their office. And you were a part of the problem!

A Mini Diary

It was a rather damp morning of July 14, 2012. The grounds imbibed a good amount of water from the rains that fell at predawn, before the roosters started crowing.  It was 1:45 AM, as I glanced at my cell phone-cum-watch.  I heard the raindrops rushing through the gutters. And I was already up, thanks to the jet lag as I have just arrived here in the Philippines. 

At least two major activities were lined up on this second day of our visit to my in-laws in Mainit, Surigao del Norte. At first, I thought the predawn dumping of rains could’ve changed today’s retinue, I was wrong.  We went ahead with our practice shooting in the makeshift firing range. I was a little scared and apprehensive at the get-go as this was my first time ever to hold and, much more,  fire a 9mm caliber pistol. The only instance I held a gun was back to the ROTC days in college when we had to assemble and disassemble a Garand rifle as part of the ‘baby’ military training. And that was three decades ago! Also, this day was going to be my first to hear a gun shot at a very close range. Silly, it may seem! Of course, I heard guns shots before, in the hinterlands around the MSU-Marawi campus, way back then.

Then, there was a brief overview about gun handling. Next time I knew, I was already handling a fully loaded, aiming the target dummies and plates, then shoot! The gun shot sounds were quite loud, though. If only, I should’ve worn a soundproof earphone. I fired 45 bullets total, hitting a couple of plates and piercing through the dummies. Firing a gun was not that scary after all.

Next thing in our to-do list for the day, trip to the islands off Claver, Surigao del Norte. Actually, it was an overnight stay in the Bucas Grande Island, in the township of Soccoro (Surigao del Norte). It took a little over an hour to get to Hayanggabon, a village in Claver where the pump boat was waiting to ferry our contingent to the island.  The otherwise smooth drive was interrupted by short stretches of roads that were still under construction. At times, the road seemed slippery as paste of mud covered the roads especially in the areas with active mining activity. The same mud paste repainted the vehicles we took mud brown!

I learned from elementary social studies class, way back when, that nickel, gold and chromite mining is a major industry in the province of Surigao del Norte. Apparently, ‘massive’ mining activities are currently underway in various areas in the province. On our way to Hayanggabon, one can easily see some mountain tops shaved off and leveled flat because of on-going open pit mining. Dirt joins the cloud reminding me of the ash fall during the days when Mount Pinatubo erupted in 1991, only on a miniscule scale! Dirt eroded by running water, settled in the road pavement and formed the mud paste.

 

 

Then, a motorized (pump) boat brought us sailing, navigating  through a mystical maze-like string of islands  seemingly floating on calm waters. The ride to the islands was smooth. Excitement mounted as we looked closely and took pictures (for some of us) as we passed by one island after another. The islands were beautifully crowned with lush verdant vegetation seemingly untouched by human cruelty. For a nature lover, these islands surrounded with fine white sandy shoreline are a good eye candy! We got to enjoy more of the islands when we hopped from one island to another, set our foot on the sandy shores and dipped in the crystal clear waters. 

This trip has not quite made me less of a stranger to my own country. For there are still a lot of beautiful places one can find only in the Philippines, places that I have never been yet, and hopefully, getting into these places will be part of the itinerary in my next visit. Wishful thinking!

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We were indebted to Cesar and Helen Mozar for this  nice trip treat!

Becoming A US Citizen: Life's New Milestone

Who would've thought I get this far? Nobody. Not me! Not even in my farthest dreams. For there were no dreams on the first place. Not luck, either, for I don't believe in luck. It is, I believed, serendipity. While drifting into life's infinite expanse of the unknown future, I just seized any oppportunity that came my way. Hard work, lots of it. Untiring resilience, to dust off when things get a nosedive. And support from my family and friends. All these helped me make it through.. milestone after milestone, one milestone at a time!

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Roughly 13 years and 3 months ago, I turned my life away from comfort and convenience, moved halfway around the globe, took the risk and explored the maze into the unknown future in the enticing new world of Uncle Sam. The decision, not an easy one,  came after a careful balance of fears and apprehensions cloaked with the uncertainties of the future and clouded with the emotional toll with the severance of constant family physical contacts against the perks of better and brighter opportunities enjoyed by those who came before us and longed and dreamed by many. A job opportunity presented before me came in a silver platter. I did not apply for it, no interview and I did not have to compete with a horde  of US-trained PhD graduates. It was a total departure from the US'  'equal opportunity' policy in the hiring process. Mine was special. The persuasive power of this once-in-a lifetime opportunity sent me packing.  September 3, 1999, I took off as an exchange scientist (on exchange VISA) with the anticipation that my family would join me soon after classes end in March 2000. 

Navigating through the unfamiliar waters in this new-found-land did not come easy. The daily grind seemed almost always a challenge at the get go.  But the company of fellow expats, who came long before us, provided with some comfort and guidance, making life transition a little less difficult. Soon enough, we began to adopt the kind of life, a little different from what we left behind. Our kids loved the school system, the way they were treated, embraced by their fellow students, and the welcoming acceptance they experienced regardless of who they are and where they come gave them the feeling they 'belong' here. 

Just as the resemblance of a new life's normalcy in our family started to take roots, the 'catch' attached to an exchange VISA, which did not matter to me at the start, presented itself. Nearing the end of my third year in the job (August 2002), we started to pack up again, homeward bound (back to the Philippines), in compliance with  the stipulated exchange VISA holders requirement to 'render a two-year service to their home country'. We were all set to go, shipped some  stuff  through balikbayan boxes, reserved one-way tickets, and wife submitted her work resignation. There was one thing left undone, the send-off or despedida party, which normally is held few days prior to departure. Then, suddenly events took an unexpected twist. On advise of friends who were once on our predicament, we managed to extend our stay in the US.Whoa!

December 5, 2012. Today highlights a new milestone in mine and my wife's lives as we take the oath of citizenship to this great country, the United States of America. Our children took theirs earlier. Looking back to the journey which brings us to this day, it was long, complicated and  at a cost. Brick walls were torn down and legal entanglements   ironed out, of course coming at a hefty price. The great consolation, though, came through the support of previous employers who believed in our potentials to contribute to the betterment of this country, in our own unique ways.

This day brings me mixed feelings. Sad seasoned with some guilt as I shed off my Filipino citizenship while at the same time, glad and excited as I put on a new one. Actually, I got misty-eyed as I took allegiance to this country I called home for over a decade now.  I don't know if gaining a US citizenship really matters. But for now, I am just living the excitement this new memento brings.  For I live one day at a time! 

Tomorrow, our journey will continue.....