A week ago we attended the annual “Happyoukai” or presentation at the daycare. This is an annual event attended by all classes (but beginning this year, the 0-year-old and 1-year-old classes have been exempted). The very first happyoukai Aya attended was when she was in the 0-year-old class (three years ago), and since the kids in that class were still practically infants and in fact still wearing their diapers at that time, what kind of presentation can one really expect them to do? Most of them were just drooling and crawling across the floor while their frantic teachers were singing and doing most of the “action.” I kind of felt sorry for the teachers, actually. Anyway, since the kids have grown a little we expected a little more participation from the kids this time around.

The kids were singing, “Gattang, gottong, gattang, gottong…gara-garadon!”

We were amused to find out that the kids were able to prepare something substantial this time, and somehow their practices indeed paid off. Aya was one of the “ooki yagi” = big goats in their play. I could barely understand what the play was all about, but it was something about small goats, medium goats, and big goats passing through a troll mountain and being eaten by the troll who guards it. But unfortunately, for the latter half of their presentation, Aya drifted from the group and played on the floor along with some kids. Oh well. Kids will be kids, you know.

I guess they really wanted us to bond with our kids by having to eat lunch with them…:P

We had only wanted to stay for Aya’s presentation and make a quick exit afterwards, but unfortunately, it seemed as if the teachers anticipated that parents were apt to make a quick getaway if they could. So what they did was they whisked off the kids to the classroom and asked the parents to pick them up there, and accompany them back to the presentation hall to watch the rest of the older kids’ presentations. And that was not the end of it. That day was also “Obento no hi” or lunchpack day, and after the presentations we were asked to come back to the room with our kids and have lunch with them there. Have lunch – for those who actually brought their share of lunch (some parents actually did). Since we didn’t bring our own lunch, we ended up feeding Aya and watching the rest of them gobble their food. Shikata nai ne. Hay, the things they make us do. Isn’t it enough that we had to pay? 😀 At any rate, it was touching to see both parents attending activities like these. I mean, contrary to the notion that Japanese dads are seldom there for their kids – there were actually quite a number of dads there. I guess they took time off from work like we did just so we can attend the activity.

Enough complaining for now. ‘La namang magagawa eh. Wait till she gets to elementary! I heard that the PTA activities here demand a lot of the parents’ time and participation. Argh…

Yes, it’s another birthday, and this time it’s Baggy’s turn! Happy birthday Baggy dudes!

I’m sure masaya yan dahil meron siyang bagong new toy. 🙂 It’s a Sony. Sony what? Secret!

Happy birthday, Dad.

—
Future, The
by Matthew Arnold

A wanderer is man from his birth.
He was born in a ship
On the breast of the river of Time;
Brimming with wonder and joy
He spreads out his arms to the light,
Rivets his gaze on the banks of the stream.

As what he sees is, so have his thoughts been.
Whether he wakes,
Where the snowy mountainous pass,
Echoing the screams of the eagles,
Hems in its gorges the bed
Of the new-born clear-flowing stream;
Whether he first sees light
Where the river in gleaming rings
Sluggishly winds through the plain;
Whether in sound of the swallowing sea–
As is the world on the banks,
So is the mind of the man.

Vainly does each, as he glides,
Fable and dream
Of the lands which the river of Time
Had left ere he woke on its breast,
Or shall reach when his eyes have been closed.
Only the tract where he sails
He wots of; only the thoughts,
Raised by the objects he passes, are his.

Who can see the green earth any more
As she was by the sources of Time?
Who imagines her fields as they lay
In the sunshine, unworn by the plough?
Who thinks as they thought,
The tribes who then roam’d on her breast,
Her vigorous, primitive sons?

What girl
Now reads in her bosom as clear
As Rebekah read, when she sate
At eve by the palm-shaded well?
Who guards in her breast
As deep, as pellucid a spring
Of feeling, as tranquil, as sure?

What bard,
At the height of his vision, can deem
Of God, of the world, of the soul,
With a plainness as near,
As flashing as Moses felt
When he lay in the night by his flock
On the starlit Arabian waste?
Can rise and obey
The beck of the Spirit like him?

This tract which the river of Time
Now flows through with us, is the plain.
Gone is the calm of its earlier shore.
Border’d by cities and hoarse
With a thousand cries is its stream.
And we on its breast, our minds
Are confused as the cries which we hear,
Changing and shot as the sights which we see.

And we say that repose has fled
For ever the course of the river of Time.
That cities will crowd to its edge
In a blacker, incessanter line;
That the din will be more on its banks,
Denser the trade on its stream,
Flatter the plain where it flows,
Fiercer the sun overhead.
That never will those on its breast
See an ennobling sight,
Drink of the feeling of quiet again.

But what was before us we know not,
And we know not what shall succeed.

Haply, the river of Time–
As it grows, as the towns on its marge
Fling their wavering lights
On a wider, statelier stream–
May acquire, if not the calm
Of its early mountainous shore,
Yet a solemn peace of its own.

And the width of the waters, the hush
Of the grey expanse where he floats,
Freshening its current and spotted with foam
As it draws to the Ocean, may strike
Peace to the soul of the man on its breast–
As the pale waste widens around him,
As the banks fade dimmer away,
As the stars come out, and the night-wind
Brings up the stream
Murmurs and scents of the infinite sea.

In Japan, it is customary for the women to give chocolates to men on Valentine’s Day. Yes, women. March 14, on the other hand, is designated as White Day, and this time it would be the men’s turn to give gifts to women. In the Philippines, on this day I could imagine flower vendors selling flowers like hot cakes to love-struck guys and gals. As for myself, I would prefer to be at the receiving end, like the old-fashioned Pinoys back home.

But hey, it would please me nonetheless to receive red roses any time of the year, occasion or no. 🙂

30 long-stemmed red roses delivered today! Maraming salamat Baggy!!!

Happy talaga sa Valentine’s! Ang sweet naman, hehehe. 🙂

Children are like clay that can be molded in their early years by their parents. For instance, since my dad was a painter, all three of us girls learned how to draw and sketch from him. We all learned to appreciate art from an early age. Teach them the basics, and they will remember these for as long as they live. It’s this very malleability that makes it so exciting to interact with a child. Of course, when Aya throws up tantrums quite similar to what I do in those unguarded moments, I realize all too well that every bad and good thing she sees me do will also be copied and imitated in the same way.

When we were in the Philippines, I managed to find a science book of simple experiments that can be performed at home. Aside from the very easy methods explained in simple terms in the book, there are also colorful pictures and illustrations which accompany each experiment. So far we have performed three experiments, but it was only until the third experiment that I realized how fun it would be to document each one and post them in our blogsite. The first experiment was one involving the mixing of two imiscible liquids, water and oil. Add salt, then watch how the weight of the salt initially brings down the oil, then how it produces a bubbling effect as it goes back to the surface. I made Aya stir the mixture, then to her surprise, she found out that the salt disappeared but the oil didn’t. The second experiment was done with Baggy, this time using a balloon tied to a straw, through which a string was inserted and its one end is tied to a chair. Release the balloon, and whoosh! A rocket balloon. Aya found that experiment very exciting and they did it over and over again, much to her delight.

The third experiment was about convection: hot liquids go up, cold liquids go down. We let Aya do as much as her little fingers could, although most of the time we end up doing mostly everything. But the amazing thing is this – we still share the enthusiasm and the appreciation for the simple concepts in science. I always feel that warm rush of delight whenever I try to explain to her the “whys” of things. In my opinion, it’s never too early to expose one’s child to science. Other parents would expose their children to music, arts, or sports. Well, we want to expose her to something that we are passionate about. So there you go.

Who knows, maybe in the future I can even bring her to the lab and show her how to operate the laser, hahah. 🙂 My mini lab assistant.

First, Aya fills up the PET bottle with hot water from the faucet.

Aya adds food coloring to the water so we can differentiate the cold water from the hot water.

Aya holds the bottom bottle while I hold the other bottle containing cold water over it.

The red-colored hot water goes up and mixes with the cold water (of course the cold water goes down, but you can only see it up close). Triumphant Aya poses for the camera. Hoy Aya, tumingin ka rito!

Father and daughter do the experiment one more time, this time with more emphatic explanations from Dr. Baggy. 🙂

I remember my late Auntie Betty, who used to scoff at other people who refer to this year and that year as the year of the cat, dog, rooster, whatever. What rubbish, she said, because every year is God’s year. Shame on those who call it otherwise, she would add. I was too young to understand then what she was fussing about. Well, I guess we all have the right to call any year whatever we want. But for myself, I would prefer to call this year as “Our Year.”

We have so many projects, so many travels and plans in store for this year. During our family gathering on New Year’s eve, we prayed together for all our plans this year. As they say, we’ll do our best, let God take care of the rest. 🙂

Ang sarap ng feeling ng kasama ang mga mahal sa buhay. Talagang sulit ang uwing Pilipinas. Tumaba kaming lahat sa kakakain.

So here’s a toast to the year ahead – to life, success, wealth, health, and more blessings.

Aya has learned to draw, and almost everyday when we pick her up at the daycare, she would hand us some drawings she did while waiting. Here is a drawing of our family. From the left: Aya, Tatay, and the one with the pig-nose is supposedly me, Nanay (sigh).

She has also learned to write her name! A-Y-A spells Aya! 🙂

We are really into the Christmas mood now.

The temperature has dropped drastically in the past few weeks, and many Christmas decors can be seen in every shopping mall, even the grocery store we frequent. Yet somehow the Christmas “spirit” has been turned into mere commercial hype, simply just another reason to spend money – at least that’s how it feels here in Japan. I really wonder if the people here really know what Christmas is all about. Heck, Christmas day isn’t even a holiday. At least the Emperor’s birthday on Dec. 23 is a national holiday.

All dressed up in black like “The Matrix” movie characters for our Christmas party. Cool ba?!! Note: Agent si Baggy rito. Ako raw yung conservative na Trinity, because I wore a skirt to cover my butt (lamig kasi hahah).

Just about a week more to go before we go home. I’m already very excited about going home, and seeing my family again. Christmas is a day to celebrate, a perfect opportunity to reunite with loved ones in our home country. Of course, this year’s Christmas for our family will also be marked by a tinge of sadness for not having our good ol’ Dad around anymore. I still miss him, and I miss him the most during Christmas. Dad was a magnificent cook, and every Christmas we looked forward to the delectable dishes he prepared for our Noche buena. He would always be the one to complain about Christmas being not really the birthday of our Saviour, but could be traced back to a quaint pagan celebration called Saturnalia (hey don’t ask me, better google it to know more about it). We called him old grouch for it. But come Christmas time he would be celebrating it with the rest of us with as much fun and fervor anyway. 🙂

I’m so busy with so many things nowadays, and I don’t know if I would be able to make future entries before leaving — so to all visitors to this site, I would like to wish you a very, merry Christmas and a prosperous New Year ahead! For some reason this site has been receiving a lot of visits lately – let me take this opportunity to say thank you all for dropping by!

In the media, doctors in the philippines are making headlines due to their mass exodus to work abroad as nurses. In this particular article which I read in the Inquirer, a top surgeon who was making P100,000 a month still saw it difficult to stay in the country and decided to work abroad as a nurse. Sorry, but I don’t believe the pathetic BS about his decision not being about the money. It is always about the money. Why even bother to mention the amount, anyway? $4,000 a month is a lot if you convert that amount to pesos. But if you live in the States, you will spend dollars – like everyone else. It’s the standard of living in the country and one’s personal lifestyle that dictates how much one can save.

Can’t say I blame the doctors at the lower end of the food chain, so to speak, for wanting a higher pay and better life for themselves and their loved ones. But what’s this so-called “top” surgeon who’s earning 100k a month, and still wanting to leave? I don’t get it. Why is it that inspite of the unique opportunity to serve his countrymen, to become great by making the ultimate sacrifice of forsaking his dreams in order to serve his countrymen, the lure of the great American dream ultimately proved to be too strong to resist? I can almost understand if he were to move elsewhere in order to improve his status, like to be the best surgeon in the best hospital in the world. But to be a nurse? No offense to our great Filipino nurses, but for a top-rate surgeon to give up his status in the country, and to take on a job which he is clearly overqualified for is evidence of how low our morales have sunk. Where is the striving for greatness? Is this the kind of legacy we would like to leave to our children and our future?

When I was about to graduate from high school, I had to make the critical decision of what course to take. My family was not rich, and if there was any straightforward way that I could help alleviate our condition, it was to take a course that would ensure the biggest economic gains after graduation. Back in the latter part of 80’s, the high demand for nurses abroad was already in full swing. And indeed, most of my female classmates eventually took up nursing, a fact that to me now is really ironic, given that we were educated in science-based curriculum. Of course I do not know their personal circumstances, like if they were pressured by their parents or peers. What I do know is that I myself had been through a similar kind of pressure. I was strongly advised to take up nursing, or even physical therapy or medical technology. I knew that if I did so, I would be ensured of a high-paying job, however not in the Philippines, but abroad. But deep inside I knew in my heart that I had to strive higher, to dream, to aspire for greater things. I knew in my heart that money could only get me so far, and even if in the eyes of my family I would be great because of my economic contribution, I would be denying myself the opportunity of harnessing my fullest potential. I knew from the start that I wanted to be involved in the sciences. I decided to take up Physics, although at that time I thought that the most I could be was to be a teacher or lecturer in a university after I got my degree. I didn’t know that it would actually be my stepping stone for a lot of other things that happened in my life. Fortunately, although my Dad could barely comprehend this obscure subject, he was all-out support for me. He trusted my judgement. He could barely put me through college, but not once had he told me that money was to be my ultimate goal for my education.

As my favorite columnist, Conrado Dequiros, once wrote: “…the role of education is to educate.” It is to expose our fertile minds to the rich, vast knowledge that has been accumulated by man since the dawn of time. It gives us a chance to stand upon the shoulders of the great thinkers of our time and look out toward the infinite possibilities ahead.

And most of all, it gives us a chance to conquer mediocrity and strive for greatness.

“SPVC,” the doctor said. “Supraventricular, ahm…contraction. I’ll go look up what “P” stands for,” he added in Japanese. Actually, he didn’t have to. I knew what the word was. I have already done my homework. Cautiously I suggested that the word was “premature.” Still, he left the room and came back with a dictionary. “Ah, here it is. Premature. Supraventricular premature contraction. Esu-pee-bui-shee.”

Long before I went back to the hospital for my last and what I had hoped to be my final consultation with the doctor, I have already made my self-diagnosis. Since my so-called “attack” last month (Oct. 2), I have been acutely aware of my heartbeat, and I could feel every heart flutter, every day. Some days are quieter than the others, some days are marked by just too many flutters. It feels like a pause in my heartbeat, followed by a sudden flop feeling. If I feel my pulse, it would seem as if my heartbeat stopped, followed by a rather heavy beat. There are no other symptoms whatsoever.

Premature ventricular contraction on ECG.

All the tests came out normal. W. N. L = within normal limits. Aside from the ECG, blood test, x-rays performed at the ER, during subsequent visits I also had the 24-hour Holter monitor and heart ultrasound. The holter monitor is actually a cool gadget which records the heart’s electrical activity, a 24-hour ECG on-the-run. I wore the recorder on my belt as I did my daily chores. As it turned out, based on these tests, my heart is structurally sound, with really nothing to worry about.

Premature contractions may either be classified as atrial or ventricular in origin, hence the acronyms “PAC” for premature atrial contractions, and “PVC” for premature ventricular contractions. I couldn’t quite find enough resources on “SVPC”, but I could only suppose that it is also ventricular in origin, the term “supra” involving an area further up the ventricles. Here is a good description I found on the internet:

Ectopic heart beats are common but they are abnormal only when they occur at a frequency of more than 1 in 10 beats. Premature contractions may be of atrial (much more common) or ventricular origin. Immaturity of the conducting system may be the origin. The diagnosis is made by passing an M-mode cursor through one atrium and one ventricle. Premature atrial contractions are spaced closer to the previous contraction than normally and may be transmitted to the ventricle or blocked.

Premature ventricular contractions present in the same way but are not accompanied by an atrial contraction. Premature ventricular contractions are often followed by a compensatory pause due to the refractory state of the conduction system; the next conducted impulse arrives at twice the normal interval, and the continuity of the rhythm is not broken. Premature atrial contractions are usually followed by a non-compensatory pause; when the regular rhythm resumes, it is not synchronous with the rhythm before the extrasystole. The distance between the contraction that preceded the premature contraction and the one following it is not twice the distance between two normal contractions but a little shorter. Another approach to the sonographic diagnosis is to evaluate the waveforms obtained from the atrioventricular valves, hepatic vessels or inferior vena cava, which demonstrate pulsations corresponding to atrial and ventricular contractions.

I asked the doctor many questions, if only to annoy him because I waited for too long to have his final diagnosis (it took a month, by golly!). During my first consultation with him he actually said that my condition might be “WPW,” or Wolf-Parkinson-White syndrom, based on the ECG results taken earlier. I was mulling this new acronym over while waiting for my papers at the lobby when he called me back again to his consultation room. Well, he took back everything he said earlier, apologizing for unnecessarily making me worry. Apparently he consulted a cardiologist in the hospital and was told that my ECG was normal, and “WPW” was just “kangeinikui” = unthinkable. I heaved a sigh of relief.

Anyway, most of his replies mostly confirmed what I already knew, from my readings on the internet. I guess I just wanted to be reassured. But there are a few hard facts to swallow:

1. This condition is untreatable. I could take beta-blockers if I wanted to, but I don’t want to f**k with my heart, not if I can’t help it.

2. Once diagnosed, it’s here to stay.

3. I was probably born with it. There are no known causes, except that which is already inherent in the heart’s structure. I know that Daddy also experienced irregular heartbeats. But the doctor assured me that it’s not always hereditary.

4. I am still trying to verify this, but a lot of my readings tell me that caffeine is one of the triggers, among other things like stress, alcohol, etc. I’ve been purged of caffeine for almost a month now, and still I get the flutters. I am still unsure of whether to shun coffee for the rest of my life.

PACs and PVCs have not been associated to a higher mortality rate among healthy individuals. Interestingly, the doctor mentioned that feeling the premature contractions could actually be psychological. He pointed out that while I reported feeling the flutters mostly at night, my holter results showed that most of the premature contractions occurred during the day, when I am mostly busy with other matters. At night, when I lay down to sleep, that’s the time I feel the contractions more because I am not preoccupied with anything else. It’s much like saying, it’s all in my head. Well, that’s what I’ll try to do from now on – try not to think about my heart too much. Ok, I’m writing a blog about it, but it’s a different thing. 😛

A wake up call? Maybe. It’s easy to relegate health down the bottom of our priorities, until it gives us a tug (at the heart, in my case, har har har) But it is definitely high time to start taking care of myself better.

I’ve been attending ISS (International Symposium on Superconductivity) since 1998. This symposium, organized by ISTEC, is held annually in Japan. This year, though, happens to be a rather special year, because for the first time, members of the CMPL (Condensed Matter Physics Laboratory) in NIP (National Institute of Physics), UP Diliman, had also participated. One of them happens to be my former adviser, Dr. Roland Sarmago. Somehow I knew that sooner or later we would meet in one of the scientific meetings on superconductivity, but never did I think that we would actually “converge” right here in Tsukuba. The first time I met a fellow Pinoy in ISS was way back in 1998 — some guy who was taking his PhD in Hokkaido University. Funny, I never saw him in the succeeding years. I envy the Indians, Chinese, and Koreans, who always manage to find their fellowmen in conferences like this. For the longest time I thought that I would be the only Pinoy representative. Until this year, of course. And I am so proud of them!

Anyway, Dr. Sarmago was surprised when I told him, “Do you realize that it has already been ten years since I left UP?” Has it really been that long? One thing I know, though, is that hadn’t been for CMPL, I would not be here. Dr. Sarmago was very instrumental in the shaping of my career path. My first ever paper, published in 1995, was the result of our efforts on the combustion method of preparing bulk superconductors. If that first paper had not been published, I doubt very much if I would still be working on supercon. I doubt it very much that I would even get the opportunity to come to Japan.

Reunited after 10 years. This photo was taken while touring the cleanroom (hence the Boysen-paint outfit), where I showed them our PLD systems. From grinding oxides to depositing thin films, yes, boss, I’ve come a long way!

One particular highlight of their visit to Tsukuba, aside from the ISS of course, was to actually listen to Prof. Alex Muller’s lecture at AIST. Alex Muller, to those not familiar with the name, is a Nobel Laureate. He was awarded the Nobel prize, together with George Bednorz, for discovering high-temperature superconductivity in the La-Ba-Cu-O system. It was their work that spurred the fervent research on superconductivity in the latter part of the 1980s. In the poster prepared by the organizers, his photo bore the caption, “Kouon Choudendou no Chichi,” which literally means, “The Father of High-Temperature Superconductivity.” But I guess that is only half-correct. The other “father,” Bednorz, seems to have abandoned superconductivity altogether and is probably working on a different field. So I guess there would not be any opportunity to see him in any supercon-related conferences.

The first time I saw Prof. Muller was in Vienna, where he delivered a special plenary talk during EUCAS. In a later session, finding no other seats readily available (it was difficult to get into the seats in the middle because those sitting near the edge had to stand up), I saw an available seat which happened to be right next to Prof. Muller, who was sitting at the second to the last seat. Well, I thought, it wouldn’t hurt to sit beside him, after all, I’m a nobody, he could go right ahead and ignore me, haha. However, as soon as the current speaker was finishing his talk, Prof. Muller turned to me and said, “You can go and sit inside (gesturing to the empty seats towards the middle)…I will disappear in a while.” Then he stood up and allowed me to pass. I smiled at him and sat maybe three seats away from him. I’m pretty sure that he would not – ever – remember that incident. But for me, I will always have that anecdote treasured in my heart. Frankly, I was “this close” to asking him for an autograph. I had to try very hard to contain my Pinas-bred fan-feelings for the man who was responsible for the field I fell in love with.

Interesting trivia: Muller was 60 years old when he was awarded the Nobel prize in 1987. Right now I’m just about half his age then. Kaya may pag-asa pa ako sa Nobel! 🙂