27.10.05

happy happy thoughts

happy happy happy happy thoughts... talk about things you like to do... you got to have a dream, or you won't have a dream, how you gonna make a dream come true? --- from south pacific

yesterday morning i was walking home after bringing mikka to school. when we leave for school, the streets are still in semi-darkness, the moon sharing the sky with the coming sun (sounds like a fusion of miss saigon and beatles). on my way back, the sky has lightened to a pale blue and barring those ubiquitous clouds, sunlight touches little leuven with soft glowy hues.

autumn is here, despite the unusually high temperatures of the last two weeks. perhaps my pregnancy helps keep my body warmer than the usual, but i am content to just pull on a cotton shirt and a fleece pullover with my mom's delish cargo pants while walking through the chill early morning rush. the leaves strewn all over the path form a soft, chaotic cushion beneath my feet. reminds me of a poem i have drawn into the folds of memory by ezra pound, a poem i write in the middle of the board when i begin the module on 'imagism', a brief but favorite period of 20th century poetry:

the images of these faces in a crowd:
petals on a wet, black bough.


i usually meet parents from neighbouring apartments walking their children to school, and yesterday this thought gave me a luscious thrill: "it must still be early because i've already brought my kid to school and they're just about to bring theirs." i walked into our apartment with a silly grin plastered on my face. i had to shake myself to unwind my arms from around my body. S looked at me quizzically.

i will never get over the thrill of being a mom. of actually being one. my friends back home don't know me as a mom, only as this carefree single with wild thoughts and ways.

i stare at mikka every night while he sleeps and shower his soft, round face with kisses. he Knows he is my angel; there will come a day when he Will say, i know, "ma, ok, ok, i've heard you! talk to the haaannnddddd..." when i whisper our special night prayer in his ears, his body becomes pliant in my arms and he lays his head on my round belly, embracing his little brother.
this morning i kept jabbing my tummy with my pointer while asking mikka, "who else does mama love aside from mikka and papa?" i wanted to hear him say his brother's name. instead he remonstrated me with, "mama, don't hurt kimi!" oopsy, ok, son, sorrreeee.

keep that sun streaming through my windows, please. it makes for happier moments. the grass below our balcony is covered in a blanket of yellow. makes me want to throw myself smack center and roll around until i'm a jaundiced mummy. the thick green trees that greeted me upon my arrival a month ago are a bit skinnier now, and not so green anymore. it's sunshiney colours on every leaf tip. the street cleaners are clogged with the merry dropping of leaves cavorting in the air before they take their soggy places on the curb.

17.10.05

tidbits

they say big things come in little packages. and so they do.

S and i stumbled on this quaint secondhand shop for baby clothes and stuff yesterday. i've been here for nearly two years and i never noticed it! it just wasn't my kind of thing then, i suppose. funny what need does to you.

so anyhow, the stuff in there were pretty cool quality, not like the stuff i remember seeing at SPIT or OXFAM, where you could still smell the body odour on the clothes. sure, i got one cool adidas sports jacket for only £1 back in '97 but i had to launder it to rid myself of the fear of inheriting any anghit or what-have-you. and the prices. sooo reasonable it made me want to snap things up.

S did allow me to snap up a MAYA SLING WRAP, the kind i have been dying to get from my relatives. the bonus thing was that it was brand new, and sold at secondhand price!!! if you check out this link, the fabric i got mine in was # 39, a deep rich burgundy with multi-coloured stripes. we got it at a relatively good price, considering that with shipping and VAT, that wrap would have come up to be around 60€, while we got it for only 29€. i'm just happy i have the sling; i even practised wearing it, in spite of the big belly. i have gained around 7 kilograms since my pregnancy, approximately 15 pounds.

then today, three sweet girls gifted me with stuff for kimi: you already know about what V lent me (crib, baby carrier, steriliser); there was a bag of some clothes, socks, and toys from M1, then 2 bigger bags of clothes and beddings from M2... i was thinking, life is great. thank you, lord!!!

then i got to talk to my mom via skype, and am in constant communication with my preggy older sister, all about baby related stuff... and things are just swell.

never mind that someone i knew from the philippines knifed me in the back over music-related matters, or that el shaddai, the choir i teach in brussels (come to think of it, not even a recognised chapter of el shaddai, ha!), have been doing some dirty politicking with me and my husband. i did cry for a while but chatting with my best friend and another good friend from brussels who dropped by unexpectedly has lifted my spirits. considerably so!!!

the little things count. they really do.

13.10.05

feels unique, only it isn't

wherever i look or turn, i see hordes of people with super duper close family ties.

i have never related to such closeness. the only close family i have is my younger brother. and his wife, who is like a really cool younger sister. my first cousin used to be my best friend but we drifted apart after high school, more her choice than mine. can't blame her, though. she was surrounded by people who kept comparing the two of us. little does she know that my mom, older sister and older brother treat her much better than they do me, so it's par for the course.

it eats me up when these tiny voices of expectation whisper in my ear sweet tempting promises of support. "wouldn't it be nice if..." "what if, for one eensy day, they would show they cared..."

there was mass this evening at the holy spirit chapel. there was a woman there who reminds me of my mom, simply because she keeps me at a distance, the only married student and mother there, while the whole flock of singles are her adopted children. makes me want to cry out, "being married and a mother does not exempt me from needing a mother, dammmmitttt".

then this beautiful offertory song took hold of me with these lyrics, "panginoon, turuan mo akong maging bukas palad... turuan mo akong maglingkod sa iyo... na magbigay ng ayon sa nararapat... na walang hinihintay mula sa 'yo..." [translation: lord, teach me to be generous, teach me to serve you as i should, to give and not to count the cost, to labor and ask not for reward...]

i stared at my palms lying on my lap, just beneath the swollen abdomen cradling kimi within. i so look for them, i thought, i yearn for their love and their support yet it eludes me. so be it. there are other windows through which light and love enter.

during the sign of peace, i wandered among fellow students, kissing and embracing them. my former philosophy teacher, the one who had sent me a sweet mother's day card months before, laid her hand gently on my belly and whispered, "peace to the little one, too." i nearly let a tear slip past. someone had remembered my little kimi. just one, but it meant the world to me.

after mass, i shot my husband a plaintive look to stay just a while longer. i told him, "i want to taste the food they prepared for us..." he didn't look pleased and kept telling me to go home on my own. then mikka, amidst protests from his dad and the other grown ups, took a container of nuts and offered them to me, saying, "let mama eat." my baby, my angel. another tear threatened.

earlier today, V from brussels, a girl with no papers, rang me and comforted me, telling me that she would gift me with some baby stuff for kimi. she is already providing me with a crib, a baby carrier, and a bottle steriliser. i told her, "i'm speechless. these are truly blessings..." and she teased me with, "blessings come to nice people. like you." i chuckled at her sweetness. can it be true? another woman, also without papers, will drop off baby clothes for winter at V's house for pick-up this saturday. so many blessings. so much that it enabled me to share the same things with my pregnant older sister back in the philippines. i told my sister, "i know how it is to be a 'new' mother (this is her 4th pregnancy, but this comes nearly 10 years after the previous one so she feels like a first-time mom again) and to have these things offered is truly grace." if i have to share the bounty in my life, i would like to share it with people i love and who are of my blood.

but that's just me, i guess. the tears have run their course again and the heart is in a strangely calm place. as it always is after a storm.

isn't it strange to feel utterly invisible, especially when you know you've swallowed a bowling ball and no one even acknowledges the many changes taking place in your life? if i stop looking for them, i will see the blessings god plants in the beautiful garden of life, feel the raindrops of love he showers on me each day, bringing life from places i never imagined existed. always teaching me to See, teaching me where to Look and become truly Joyful.

9.10.05

one of those days

it's a typically cloudy today, the kind belgium is (in)famous for.

it's the time of day that is also most peaceful. husband and son are taking a nap and it's quiet in the apartment.

you can hear yourself think and sometimes you wish you couldn't.

baby kimi gets ever bigger and more malikot in my tummy. it takes me 5 minutes to find a comfortable position on the couch and i spend all night on my left side. if i'm unlucky, my left hip will be a little sore the next day.

out there in the world are a host of female friends and relatives i desperately seek but don't know how to reach. just because. just one person, even gay, to whom i can cling for a moment and let out my fears and frustrations about the coming caesarean section i am bound to have, the helpless post-partum days of healing, and praying that i, we, will be able to provide for baby kimi in the winter months.

thank god for little blessings. when i look out my bedroom window, i see trees in the distance, and the tops are now changing colour. i see remnants of the summer budding in some yellow blossoms, then the more autumnal presence of the light orange and brittle yellow of leaves on the fringe, ready to fall with the slightest wind, and on one tree alone, dark red leaves weighing down the pine-like branches.

i wish i could banish my fears and trepidations. i can recall that the only way i could mask my fear in the past was by talking to someone about it. i did throw my thoughts on the table today, after lunch, and got sticky warm hugs from my eldest son (forever angel) and husband. thank god for the little serendipitous things.

now it's time to put on blinders and not look elsewhere for relief and comfort. it drives my spirit down when i think that way but i can't help it sometimes. i remember the post-partum depression i underwent with my firstborn and i know that this really happens. and i was in social philippines that time. my cousin visited me in the first week, as did my aunt, and some co-teachers from ateneo. then silence for weeks on end while the CS gash in my abdomen healed ever so slowly. i hobbled around for days, wondering if my guts would spill out.

there's a brown bird struggling among the yellow and green leaves of the tallest tree in the distance. two black birds streak across the pale sky above him, oblivious to his plight.

8.10.05

father who?

i've been watching presumably older episodes of "the practice" and the last two i saw showed eugene lashing at the catholic church.

some days ago, my family and i were enjoying late afternoon tea in the studio flat of a friend who lives in the building block just across from ours. we were joined by another friend who lived a few doors down from the studio. both of them are priests.

as a catholic, i admitted to them that such shows where there is catholic-church bashing leaves me sad and yet resigned. i personally know many great catholics, whether religious or lay, and to see the church maligned 'across the board', as it were, hurts me. after all, i AM a catholic, and although i can see that there are really some jerky catholics, i can say the same for other people of other religions.

and it dawned on me, like a sunrise, or a creeping shadow as dusk falls softly around me, unnoticed but inescapably present. the stupid mistakes you commit, the silly things you do, will inevitably be tied to your affiliations, the most glaring of which is the religious one.

so when i do something "un-christian", i am bearing negative witness to my faith. makes sense. after all, religions claim a particular brand of lifestyle and lifestyle can only be concretely manifested through acts. this sounds like i'm stating the obvious but can i overdo such a proclamation? it seems that even the most learned among us neglect this deceptively simple truth, for truth it is, and fact, and hard bite of reality.

it is worse for priests. they stand above all other catholics, as beacons and supposedly good representatives of the faith. these figures, much hated in the west but still loved and adored in developing countries, are the principal figures of catholicism. for the lascivious acts of horny, depraved, or perverted men in frock, the entire vocation of the presbyterate is under fire. especially since the most celebrated and public cases come from libel-hungry, media-exaggerating US of A. where else, right?

let's take some pinoy priests i happen to know, and with whom i have had contact that went beyond the "bless me, father, for i have sinned" or "father, hello, need your blessing!" niceties. in the past year, more especially when my pregnancy started kicking in, baby kimi helped me to overcome (initially overlook) the excesses and little irritating acts of what seemed like an elitist group of priests who were looking out only for their own interests. freed from their pastoral duties here in europe, they flit from one filipino community to another, welcomed with much warmth and alacrity by people who hardly have contact with priests in their abroad existence, and eagerly seek the personal and unique touch of a pinoy priest. this goes all very well for everyone involved except that there are some instances of really spoiled behaviour from some of them, who Expect their needs to be served. although their numbers are few, their actions stand out glaringly on people like me, and grate completely on the nerves. (if you want specific examples, email me and i will gladly enumerate, but for this blog, it will obscure my pièce de resistance, hence, the glossing over)

last night, i watched in horrified fascination as this particular priest manifested the worst kinds of behaviour that i would like to coin in the following ways: Sucking Up, Speaking Over Others, and Bullshitting Tactics.

  • Sucking Up: as points were presented to the body of students (it was a gathering of students, which he is, like me and the rest assembled there), he would make loud and corny jokes about each point. when one former student voiced her opinion about a particular matter, he immediately --- in a loudly exaggerated voice and theatrical movements --- championed her cause. never mind that it was a point that ran perfectly counter to his previous statements. i stared at him in disbelief. what a sucker! in the back of my mind, i could hear the song, "how much is that puppy in the window, ruff ruff!!!" playing over and over again.
  • Speaking Over Others: there was a suggestion for a particular activity, and the exchanges were getting intense. one lay student (not a priest or seminarian) raised a point, the other student priests jumped on it in dissension, and banding together with their loud voices, seemed to forget the point raised initially. another lay student raised his hand to reinforce the first point given, and this particular priest Cut Him Short, perhaps after only the third word uttered. i shot that priest a chilling look and said softly, "let him finish". but since my voice was Soft, i was ignored, naturally. the second lay student renewed his efforts to speak and did so, in a much louder voice than that priest, and pointed out that in fact, the point of the other lay student had not been acknowledged by the body and that this priest had misunderstood the point and was misrepresenting it to the rest of the group. to me, one thing was strikingly clear. this priest was Not Listening to what others had to say. it stood out in my consciousness simply because he had on a cloak of smug superiority that elicited from me the expectation, "for someone who's supposed to be smart, you ought to know how to listen to points. your listening skills suck!" so now he Doubly Sucked.
  • Bullshitting Tactics: by virtue of his cutie boy looks. sounds bitter? perhaps. but he knows he's cute. he knows he's charming. so in pinoy parlance, bolero siya. he utters sweet nothings, especially to the lay women students, and bullies fellow students with his charm, which reeks with falseness and hollowness. (again, if you need specific examples, i can provide these by email. i can still remember the BS he gave me when i was new. now he keeps me an arm's length away because he probably knows i have his number and will not hesitate to show him up at the slightest chance. ahahaha) what boosts my case at this point is that several Male students have told me that they, too, have noticed how glib and bolero this priest is, thus reinforcing my initial observations. in my single days, boleros topped my list of Yucky traits in men. this guy has loads and loads of BS in his system. if he had been a lay person, he would have gotten his share of putdowns from more beautiful women than a priest is normally surrounded with, and i hope you know what i mean. but that, they say, is another story..

grabe, pari ka man din. at ganyan kang umasta. people like me don't blindly accept the words of priests, especially when they're not saying mass --- and even if they are --- as gospel truth. i don't know what it is in my background that enables me to see them as ordinary human beings who have to slug it out in intellectual and emotional circles like the rest of us ordinary folk in the world, butthat's how i am. i was educated in a jesuit university and was lucky enough to have steered clear of those priests who had their fan club following of enamoured students and campus ministers, and got to know cool priests who didn't throw their weight around as though they had the right to do so.

this priest, a phd student, prides himself in his sharp mental capacities and articulate use of english. i've read some of his work and listened to him give homilies, both in tagalog and english, and have found him to be rather flowery and excessive in his use of either language. but i don't take that against him. people are entitled to their Romantic tendencies of embellishments and curlicues. i have sat with this priest and told him some of my hurts, confiding in him as a friend, and have seen how he mocked that moment of vulnerability and spread nasty jokes to another priest about that supposedly private session. i have seen through him and i can tell you, dear reader, that with a priest like him, i am privately glad that there is so much animosity in the west against his kind, and understand why the sutana he so proudly donned on his ordination day is sullied by liberal thought.

he is one of many i have personally encountered, but i have singled him out in this entry for the plain reason that he eagerly embraced all the negative attributes of any human being and manifested them in a short period of time. can't apologise for my thoughts and feelings, fr. ______.

father who?

6.10.05

dem accent

one of the things that gets my hide is when i hear people with british and american accents pronouncing other-than-of-anglican-origin words without any effort to pronounce it properly, properly here meaning "the way the locals do it".

i have a belgian classmate with a smacking english accent who enjoys anglisising everything, even when i explicitly tell him how to pronounce particular words. he insists that his pronunciation is correct, even when it grates on the ears. he will stand by his way of saying things, oblivious to the fact that he sounds not only offensive, but ignorant as well, especially in the light of exposure to the proper way of pronouncing certain words.

i have heard too often how the ubiquitous american accent can bastardise the sound of certain words, not just filipino words (i once came across a site where filipino was spelled as 'philippino' but i digress, this isn't anything to do with sound, i know) or names, but proper names of countries and other people. classic examples? check out "los angeles", where the "g" has taken on the hard "j" sound, which goes against the logic of hispanic words (which los angeles obviously are, meaning 'the angels'), and therefore must be pronounced as 'los ang-heh-les'. in the tv series "the agency" and "without a trace", actors posing as CIA and FBI agents insist on pronouncing iraq as "ay-rack", prolonging the initial vowel sound, creating a trochee instead of the iambic cadence of putting the stress on the second syllable and using the short "i" sound. of course the same goes for iran, making it sound like a simple sentence, "i ran".

for pinoy readers, i have heard this chinese basher of our beloved balut pronounce the word as ba-lute, injecting an y-grec sound to the "u" that doesn't exist in normal pronunciation.

why does it always turn out that everyone else but the brits and americans know how to pronounce words properly? being a native speaker of english does not automatically mean that you are a competent and even proficient user of it. not at all, i'm afraid. (verrry afraid)

bottom line? it would work for the better good if people exerted effort to be more conscious of how things are pronounced Properly in different parts of the world. it works towards better global harmony and communications and eradicates the pervasive feeling that people of the first world are self-absorbed and, dare i say it, grossly ignorant of the LARGER world that does exist beyond their borders.