I told you so

They were right all along. Your defiance was futile. It truly can’t be. Who are you to defy the opinions of many which are based on their own experiences? But still you tried, you stubborn you. So much for trying though. Can your hear the “I told you so”?

Friends can be lovers, but LOVERS CAN’T be FRIENDS. It’s the unwritten LAW. It is the ugly TRUTH. It hurts you, but that’s the reality you have to face. Yes, you were friends for 6 years. Six long years. Most of those years are devoted to getting to know and eventually falling in love with each other. But when the love fizzles, the friendship cools down as well. And it ain’t cool, mehn. Especially when:

1. Your “friend” still holds on. The “friendship” is a false pretense. A cover-up. You might just be denying that you’re in love and that you treat each other as “just a friend.” But somewhere deep in your heart, you still feel something. You call it “care,” which is really a form of love.

2. Your “friend” gets emotionally attached. You still share the details about each other’s lives. You comfort each other in times of despair. You are always a shoulder to cry on. You become sad. And on the other side, if something awesome happened to your day, he or she is the first one to know. You laugh together. You make fun of each other.

3. Your “friend” gets physically attached. Without planning or knowing it, suddenly, you both find yourself intertwined in bed. The intimacy brings you together again. You feel that certain connection that only the two of you understand.

4. Your “friend” becomes jealous. That green-eyed monster suddenly creeps in, once you start liking someone else. You mention another name in the conversation and you start fighting. It’s called the “territorial syndrome.”

Then, it dawns on you. You can’t be friends. Not anymore. Because it’s not helping the both of you. It’s just straining you. So you do what they think is right for the both of you. You follow what others have done to their “friends.” Ex-communicate! And be grateful for the unfriending app. That’s the wonder Facebook does. One click and voila! You don’t know him, he doesn’t know you. You have deleted each other in the virtual world. And in real life. Goodbye, my good ol’ “friend”!

Amazing Grace

I can’t believe it has been three months. Only three months? It feels like forever.  I’ve been going to the shelter, exhausted from my 9-to-6 corporate job on Tuesdays and going home more renewed and inspired, for three months now.  I’ve been teaching English to the 14 pregnant mothers and playing with the 16 babies since October and it has been a habit. A hard habit to break, I must say. Three months and I feel I’m addicted. I’ve been really attached to Grace To Be Born and it feels like I couldn’t get enough.

Sometimes, I even find myself visiting when I’m not supposed to. I sometimes come unannounced, even if I’m not scheduled to teach, because my feet just carried me there. Just what happened a little while ago. I went to the Adoration Chapel in the Immaculate Conception Church in Pasig with my housemate. We were about to go home, but there was Sto. Niño procession when we got out. We had to walk because the streets in Kapasigan were closed. My housemate got a little tired, but the good thing was Grace To Be Born was just a few blocks away. So we decided to stop and visit for a while. We ended up spending two hours chatting with the mothers, the volunteers, the staff, and playing with the babies, even changing their diapers. Totally unexpected and unplanned!

Just as how I came to know about Grace to be Born. It has been three years, but I still remember how. It was through Pearl, the staff nurse, whom I met during the Jesus Encounter at Feast Pasig. At that time, all I was asking from God was for me to be healed from a broken heart. But Pearl was asking for another prayer. She was a fresh graduate with a Nursing degree and at that time, she was weighing her options. She was considering saying “Yes!” to the Lord and giving up working in big hospitals here and abroad. Deep in her heart, she wanted to volunteer in Grace To Be Born, a shelter for women in crisis, and she was asking for wisdom and guidance. I was inspired by Pearl’s story. Because I was moved, I wanted to volunteer as well. However, I had personal issues to resolve first at that time.

But God had his ways. When I joined a caring group, our CG head, Bro. Joel, decided to have an outreach activity in the shelter for mothers and babies. It was timely, because we went there one week after Mother’s Day. We prepared food, games, and other fun activities for the pregnant mothers. We even performed a skit about the story of Moses. I wrote the script in order to highlight the message that the mother of Moses sacrificed and let her son be carried by the river in order to save him. This is how selfless and loving mothers are. And we wanted to tell the mothers in the shelter that they are like the mother of Moses. After the activity, the director of the shelter then, Sister Claire, asked us if we could form a caring group for the mothers. I told our CG head that it was a good idea and I even volunteered to help him organize the group. Unfortunately, we got busy so we were not able to pursue the plan.

But it was as if God wanted me to come back to the shelter. One officemate of mine donated maternity clothes for the mothers. So, I went to the shelter to bring the donations. And my visit was very again timely. Pearl and Miss Ester, the new director of the shelter, told me that they needed a volunteer teacher. At that time, I felt that God wanted me to serve and volunteer. And so I said “yes.”

When I got home, I was very excited and eager to start working. I looked up topics and lesson plans on the Internet. I even couldn’t sleep because of so many thoughts and plans in my head. But it dawned on me that my challenge was my schedule. I worked from 9am to 6pm, Mondays to Fridays. I tutor a high school student on Mondays and Wednesdays after work. So, I thought of forming a group of teachers that will have shifting teaching schedule. I posted on Facebook and asked my friends for help. Thank God, two of my friends responded and volunteered. And the good thing about it is they have Literature and Speech Communication background.

Teaching in the shelter has been a big challenge for us, yet a fulfilling vocation. We juggle our corporate jobs, teaching, and other activities all at the same time. But it is all about time management really.  I teach Grammar on Tuesdays; a friend teaches Speech on Thursdays; and another friend teaches Business English on Saturdays. We have survived teaching the pregnant mothers who are in different levels — some graduated from high school, a few from college, and one is almost illiterate. It was hard, especially during the first few class discussions. Some understand the lessons, the others can catch up, but a few barely comprehend. For one, some of them cannot speak Filipino well, because they are from Visayas or Mindanao. So how are they supposed to understand English then?  Good thing, the other mothers cooperate and even translate the lessons to those who are not able to grasp the discussion. Often, we, the volunteer teachers, give special attention and even give one-on-one tutoring to those who have difficulty. And what ignites and inspires us to continue volunteering is their eagerness to learn. You can see it in their eyes. Hope fuels them. And we use that hope to help them achieve what they want to do after they have given birth and get out of the shelter.

And the more that the challenges* come; the more that we want to help them and the more that we become bonded. Some of the mothers who have been with us during the first few classes have already borne their babies and have to leave the shelter to find work. However, we still keep in touch and communicate once in a while. Sometimes, they visit their babies or I chance upon them in the Feast. Also, if some have left, a few have been added to the class. We just had a “sembreak.” But because the holidays are over, we will have to start another “sem” with another set of students. Unbelievable!

Anyway, it feels like all paths, at least my own path, lead to Grace To Be Born. It seemed unexpected and unplanned at first.  Yet, when I think about it now, maybe it was really meant to be. It has been 3 months and I’m hoping that I can still have the time this year to continue the volunteer teaching. It is because the mothers, the babies, and all the staff have become my family. And Grace To Be Born has become my shelter, too.

*Unfortunately, one of the volunteer teachers won’t be able to teach anymore. That is why we are currently looking for volunteers. If you know someone who is inclined to this kind of vocation, please PM me or post a comment on this blog entry. Thanks!

I’m Allergic

You are like my allergy*. When I consume you (or let you consume me), I get all red — a warning sign. It means I’m getting myself into trouble. That I should stop. And then, I get the rashes, which are so itchy and uncomfortable. When I scratch my skin, it becomes painful. Worse, it bleeds. But worst of all, I can’t breathe. A terrible horrifying feeling.

So as much as possible, I avoid you. Because I don’t want the awful feeling when you’re near. It terrifies me. It taunts me. Even if I want to indulge, I stop myself. Even if I want you so bad, I divert. I want to forget your looks, your touch, your smell, your taste. I tell myself that you don’t taste so good. That I want to taste the others. I pretend just so I won’t eat or drink you. Won’t devour you. Won’t want you. Won’t need you.

Because you are bad for me. Bad for my health, my emotional health. Because when I let myself go, I lose control. Desire takes over. I become anxious and demanding. I become depressed and guilty. All at the same time. I crave. I yearn. I ache.

So I withdraw. I deny. I ignore. It’s all about control. I control myself. I control my want. I differentiate what I want and what I need. I don’t want you. I don’t need you. I don’t care about you. I don’t love you. Just because. Not this time. Not ever. Not anymore.

*I’m allergic to shrimp, wood ear mushroom (tenga ng daga), strumazole (my med for hyperthyroidism), alcohol (my recent discovery is Tanduay Ice, but I can take a few shots of beer), dust, and heat.

It’s a Grace to be Born

On my way home, I frowned upon three teenage girls wearing short shorts and thick make-up chatting loudly in the jeep. Of course, I overheard them talking about courtship as if they know what love is and how to handle a relationship at age 14. I want to tell them: they have a bad fashion (and make-up) sense; the other passengers know their life story already; school before boys; and try hard not to get pregnant to avoid marrying at a young age and contributing to the overpopulation in the Philippines.

For a volunteer teacher in a shelter for pregnant women in crisis like me, seeing these teenagers still roaming around at ten in the evening is bad news. This means there might be a chance that the student population will boom and the classroom will be filled up. And what kind of teacher would want that? Kidding aside, the shelter and we, the volunteers, are saddened that teenage pregnancy is prevalent in our country. It is a good thing that there are shelters and other institutions who help the abused, abandoned, impoverished women, especially those who consider abortion because they will not be able to support and take care of their babies. But they can only do so much. We can only do so much for them. Teachers can only give them basic education. But what they really need are lessons on responsibility, chastity, motherhood, and parenting. I hope that’s part of the sex education in the Philippines.

My friend, who also works as a volunteer teacher, told me that teenage pregnancy is a product of mass media. I agreed and added that it was the “bad fruit.” Mass media feed people with so much information, but sometimes they fail to filter what is good and what is bad. It seems that mass media promote adulthood as a stage where you get drunk and have sex. And when you get pregnant, because you aren’t ready for motherhood yet, you go to Quiapo for pamparegla or in “clinics” for abortion. My friend said that the effect of this propaganda is blinded consciousness. Teenagers become aware about their gender and sexuality and yet, they mishandle and they are misinformed about it.

Do you want to know the ugliest truth? Estimates of induced abortions among Filipino adolescents reached 319, 000 in the year 2000 (Varga & Rosa – Feramil, 2003). About 400, 000 abortions among women of all ages are performed every year in the Philippines (Raymundo, Zablan, Cabigon, Cruz and Berja, 2001). About 800 Filipino women die every year because of complications of abortion; majority of them are poor, have some high school education (Singh, Juarez, Cabigon, Ball, Hussain & Nadeau, 2006). These facts and figures about teenage pregnancy and abortion rate are just here in the Philippines. Can you imagine how rampant it is worldwide? You just don’t want to know, trust me.

For me, prevention is better than cure. If we open our eyes on how bad the situation is and work together to solve the problem through proper awareness and education, then there’s still hope for the children of the future. But what can you do when women get pregnant when they aren’t ready yet? You have two options. Take them to a shelter for pregnant women (like Grace To Be Born located in Pasig City). Or introduce me as their new teacher. We might just have saved a baby.

P.S.

Please grab a copy of Sir Rey Ortega’s book called “Crazy Love: Loving the Poor the Way God Loves Them” where  I got the inspiration and all the facts and figures about teenage pregnancy and abortion, which I used in this blog entry.

Grace To Be Born

Center location: 53 Dr. Sixto Antonio Ave., Kapasigan, Pasig City
Office: 60 Lighthouse Bldg., Chicago St., Cubao, Quezon City
Tel. 910-1895    Telefax 635-6056
Center: 501-0965

Grace To Be Born, a ministry for saving the unborn from abortion and caring for abandoned babies, a halfway house for unwed pregnant women in crisis, is duly registered and approved by SEC, DSWD, BIR, and the Mayor’s Office. For details, questions or donations, call Rey Ortega at 09275010605 or 09228597035, or Myrna Ortega at 09178039139. E-mail rortega_corinthians@yahoo.com and myrna.ortega@gmail.com.

On Getting Older and Wiser

I’m turning 24 on Monday, but I feel like I’ve grown more than that and now I think like a 30something.  Trivia: January 9, my birthday, is called “Coming of Age Day” in Japan. Suits me, right? Anyway, here are the signs that you’re age-ing like I am:

1. You hate Lady Gaga and Rebecca Black. And you probably do not like Taylor Swift, Demi Lovato, Selena Gomez, and Justin Bieber. You think it’s a waste of airtime when you hear their songs on the radio. Real music to you is classical piano and strings instrumental. And when you’re in the karaoke bar with your friends, you belt out “Alone” by Heart or sing with demure “All This Time” by Tiffany, “Too Many Walls” by Cathy Dennis and “Steep” by Lauren Christy.
2. You frown upon teenage girls wearing short shorts and thick make-up chatting loudly about their love lives in a public transport. It irks you that they really don’t know what they are talking about. You think they don’t know what love is and how to handle a relationship at age 14. You silently wish them good luck on their studies and hope they won’t get pregnant any time soon. And as they get off the vehicle, you hold your stare silently worrying about what will become of the children in the future, especially your would-be kids.
3. You know the difference between need and want when you go to the mall. You don’t want to spend your money on Iphones, Ipods, and DSLR cameras even if they please your eyes. You think you can spend the money on more important things like tissue paper, soap, shampoo, and of course, the bills. You just want to save up your hard earned money or donate it to charity.
4. You watch the news more than the telenovelas or some variety show. You feel bad when you miss TV Patrol or 24 Oras because you won’t know what is happening in the Philippines and the other things in the society. Your favorite channels are GMA News TV, CNN, and BBC.
5. You give more than you receive, specifically on special occasions. You’re the one giving your ninongs and ninangs pamasko on Christmas. And you don’t expect your parents to give you gifts even on your birthday. In fact, you treat out more and more people on your special day. And it doesn’t bother you that much anymore.
6. You’re gaining friends whose ages are 30 up. The recent one is a 40something married man, who is a lawyer by profession, an Atenean, and probably a basketball varsity player in high school, whom you just have given a love advice. You just told him to bite the bullet and act like a grown up man that he is. And your advisee was surprised that a little thin sickly (and let’s add cute) girl like you can say something like that. Then, he gives you an analogy that you’re like Olive Oil telling that to Popeye.
7. You finally accepted that you win some, you lose some — relating it to social relationships. You have the moment of clarity and realized that some people, your ex for example, might not be good for you, especially for your health, so you have to cut ties with them. And then you keep those people who support and take care of your emotional health.
8. You use “you” and “us” more often than “I” and “mine.”
9. You pat yourself on the back every time you realize you have a higher EQ now than when you were sweet 16.

If you just had a stiff neck and got tired of nodding because of the list above, then you’re Cristta 2.0. Welcome to adulthood, my friend!

one of those days

Today is one of those days
when “hi” and “hello”
means “I’m still here”
and “It’s you again.”

Today is one of those days
when “why” and “how”
means a bored yawn
and a polite nod.

Today is one of those days
when “I’m sorry” and  “I understand”
means empty fillers
and disentangled attachment.

But unlike the other days, ours ends today
Yet and again, it feels like one of those days.

Sweet Serendipity

 

Sweet Serendipity (Lee Dewyze)

I ain’t got no car
And I’ve got one pair of jeans
They’ve been stretched too far
And now they’re weak at the seams
I can’t say what’s next
And I got nothin’ up my sleeve
But I don’t lose my head
Cause’ it ain’t really up to me

And I’m doing just fine
I’m always landing on my feet,
In the nick of time,
And by the skin of my teeth
I ain’t gonna stress
Cause’ the worst ain’t happened yet
Something’s watching over me like
Sweet Serendipity

Oh, oh, oh oh oh, ohhhhhhh!
Sweet Serendipity
Oh, oh, oh oh oh, ohhhhhhh!

I don’t ask for alot
No nothing more than I need
Cause’ I love what I got
Don’t need to play the lottery
I just wanna’ be strong
At the end of the road
I don’t want to hold on
I want the strength to let go

And I’m doing just fine
I’m always landing on my feet,
In the nick of time,
And by the skin of my teeth
I ain’t gonna stress
Cause’ the worst ain’t happened yet
Something’s watching over me like
Sweet Serendipity

And what will be will be, in the nick of time,
And by the skin of my teeth
I ain’t gonna stress
Cause’ the worst ain’t happened yet
Something’s watching over me like
Sweet Serendipity

Oh, oh, oh oh oh, ohhhhhhh!
Sweet Serendipity
Oh, oh, oh oh oh, ohhhhhhh!
Now Sweet Serendipity

Don’t look fate can only find you
Can’t choose for something to surprise you
Set sail without a destination
See where the wind will take you
You never know when you’re gonna fall
But I’m not worried, no I’m not worried at all

And I’m doing just fine
I’m always landing on my feet,
In the nick of time,
By the skin of my teeth
I ain’t gonna stress
Cause’ the worse ain’t happened yet
Something’s watching over me

And I’m doing just fine
I’m always landing on my feet,
In the nick of time,
And by the skin of my teeth
I ain’t gonna stress
Cause’ the worst ain’t happened yet
Something’s watching over me like
Sweet Serendipity

Oh, oh, oh oh oh, ohhhhhhh!
Sweet Serendipity
Oh, oh, oh oh oh, ohhhhhhh!
Sweet Serendipity

Don’t look fate can only find you
Can’t choose for something to surprise you
Set sail without a destination

Sweet, sweet
Sweet, sweet
Sweet, sweet
Sweet Serendipity
Sweet, sweet
Sweet, sweet
Sweet Serendipity

I don’t know
Sweet, Sweet Serendipity

Erratum

i’mperfect as it may seem
its like im leaving (sic) the dream
theres still something lacking
a bitter,sweet Man whose loving
has run dry and has forgotten
a promise that he will never go
but alas, he flee, fly, flew
leaving this heart empty and bleau.

Coming of Age

When I was younger, I could not wait to grow up and be an adult. I wanted to move out of my parents’ house. I dreamt of going to school away from home. I wished to have a kickass job. I hoped for a rocker boyfriend. And I thought I could lead my life by myself. But the “grownup land” is not the nice little playground I thought I wanted to be in.

Being an adult means getting a job, not necessarily the dream job. It takes a lot of luck to land on your dream job right after college. And if you have remained the dreamer after your first, second, and maybe third job, you just settle for the job that pays the rent and supports your occasional bourgeoisie-like splurging on food, travel, and clothes. Just do not mind that you sit in front of the computer, busy counting the hours left until 6 pm.

Being an adult means having your soul mate as a boyfriend and then him, breaking up with you.  It is about finding your perfect match and then realizing that you, yourself, are imperfect and you two are in an imperfect relationship. Being an adult makes you realize that some long distance relationships, including yours, make partners literally drift apart. And there might always be a third party, depending on which side of the bed you are in.

Being an adult means being annoyed by your mom and dad, bugging you to get over your ex and find another boyfriend. And there goes the threat that your younger siblings might get married before you. It makes you think the possibility of being an old maid — alone, childless. Or better yet, getting pregnant without a husband.

Being an adult means talking about sex. It is about hearing the sexcapades of your workmates and friends and deciding whether or not to do active listening. It teaches you that cowgirl is not a girl from Texas and doggie is not the animal that barks. And it makes you gauge your sex life or lack thereof.

Being an adult means being stressed out about where to go on vacation, especially when the airlines go on seat sale. Your travel buddies book you to Coron, Bohol, and Iloilo. You go to Puerto Galera, Baguio, and Cebu. You are all over the place just to escape from your prole self. Nevermind that the next payday is still three weeks away.

Being an adult means detecting who your true friends are. It makes you think that Facebook is not really a social network, but a complicated bunch of bored and boring people. It makes you think twice about maintaining old friendships while striking up new ones. Or cutting ties with people, unfriending, just because.

Being an adult means wanting to be young again. Working 8 hours a day, 5 days a week is lackluster. It makes you want to relive your ol’ glory days as a teenager, raging with idealism. It brings you back to school, keeping your mind sharp by reading books, listening to lectures, following the news, and forming your beliefs and principles. You want to be in a classroom where everyone calls you ate or kuya.

Being an adult lets you experience falling in love and breaking up. Being an adult lets you experience widening your circle and cutting ties. Being an adult lets you experience taking responsibility for your family and talking back on your parents. Being an adult lets you experience making money and wasting it. Being an adult lets you experience wanting to get out of school and getting back in. Being an adult lets you think that you are not yet what you think you are.

We Cared at He Cares

The birthday of my friend Dynki was fast approaching when she asked me for a foundation where she can spend her 24^th. As a volunteer in some outreach activities, I told her about this one place I have wanted to go to ever since my church mates talked about it. My church mates have volunteered in this foundation helping street children take a bath and feeding them afterwards. Since Dynki is very fond of kids, I suggested that she spends her birthday at this place. After giving her the contact details, everything was set and we went to He Cares Foundation, located at #9 Mines St., Project 6, Quezon City.

He Cares Foundation houses and takes care of several street children of Metro Manila. It provides their basic needs such as food, clothing, education, and medical assistance. There are kids who stay at the house, but Dynki preferred to celebrate her birthday with 25 kids who are either living in the nearby squatter areas or just living in the streets. When we got to the place, we did not expect that little kids, ranging from 4 to 9 years old, were already waiting for us. They looked so tiny and thin that 25 seemed like a small number. Dynki even whispered to me that if we only knew, we could have asked for a larger number of kids. By the kids’ looks, we really wanted to feed them to make them look bigger and healthier. But the food and the gifts that we brought were only enough for 25 children and so we set aside the idea of asking for some more children.

There was still a program being held at the recreation area when we got there. So we had to ask the 25 little kids to sit on the small benches in the porch of the house for a while. To keep them company, I suggested to Dynki that we interact and entertain the children while we were waiting. It was nice of JM and Clare, our new friends who volunteered, to talk and keep the children amused with jokes and stories. I even had to crack a corny joke, because one kid challenged me with his joke. Then, we asked the other volunteers to help us make name tags for the children.

It was past 4pm when we had the recreation area for ourselves. We introduced ourselves to Bro. Joe, the administrator of He Cares, and of course, to the kids.  Then, I asked the children for someone to lead the prayer so we can start the activity. We were surprised that one kid raised his hand and recited a very long prayer in English, proficiently and without stutter.  Then, it was JM and Clare’s turn for the storytelling part. Actually, Dynki asked us and her other friends to donate children’s books, because the plan was to have a storytelling session and other literacy activities for the children. And so, JM and Clare told a story entitled “Bruhaha, Bruhihi,” a story about a little girl who mistakes an old lady for an aswang. The morale of the story is to respect the elder and to avoid wrong judgment on people.

After the storytelling, the children looked hungry so we told them to sit down on the other benches to eat. Dynki’s other friends prepared the table and helped the children eat. But before eating, we sang a “Happy Birthday” song for Dynki. We were so happy to see Dynki happy that time. Then, the children started eating. We were surprised that these little kids can eat by themselves. Some kids even finished their food very fast. You can tell that they rarely eat a chicken meal and that other food that Dynki brought. And by looking at them while they eat, you will feel fortunate and thankful that you can eat three meals a day. But what is more interesting about these kids is some of them did not eat or finish their food, because they wanted to bring them home. These kids were so nice to save their food so that they can share it with their families.

After they were full, we had another storytelling session for the children. Dynki’s other friends told a story about a kid who always fool others by shouting “Sunog, Sunog!” even if it is not true. The lesson of the story was to avoid lying and being more considerate to other people. Because Dynki’s friends were so funny and animated while telling the story, the children had their hearty laughs all over the place. It was amazing seeing them laughing their hearts out.

They looked even happier when we prepared games for them. Dynki asked them to group themselves into pairs or groups and to perform their talent in front of the “judges.” We were amazed, because the kids were so bibo and talented. One pair left us in awe when they gyrated and did stunts like split and cartwheel. Obviously, they were the ones who won.

Then, we had the gift giving. Dynki and her other friends were so generous to prepare and give a big box full of goodies and educational materials. The children went home happy, because they received these early Christmas gifts. It was nice that the activity ended with a lot of smiles and thank you from the kids. My heart even melted when a little girl came back to embrace me and Dynki and to say thank you for what we did that day. Because of this, I told Bro. Joe that he might see us again to volunteer for their other outreach activities. Hats off to him and to all the volunteers and sponsors that support He Cares Foundation! True to its name, the foundation really cares.  

For donations, please contact:

He Cares Foundation
#9 Mines St., Project 6, Quezon City
Tel. No. (632) 928-8910 or 453-0100(call 1:00 – 5:00 pm)
Cel. No. 0916-6115431 or 0922-8535851

e-mail: hecaresfoundation@gmail.com
Contact Person: Bro. Joe Dean or Ardis Sola