Way to Go

Someone I know shared to me how she wants to have her funeral done. According to her, she didn’t have much choice about the way she "entered" the world, but at least there’s something she can do about the way she "exits" it. She has already picked out which songs will be sung at her funeral, including persons who would give the eulogies (specifically, persons who have played a significant role in her spiritual growth and life), what dress she would wear, where she would be buried.

At first, I was incredulous. Honestly, would you really care about how other people would take care of your remains? Could you care less if they clothed you with red or white gown? Or if the people you have entrusted the tasks with would really carry them out exactly the way you specified? Even if you make threats like – "Mumultohin kita pag di mo ginawa ‘yan…" (I will haunt you if you don’t do that…), there’s really no guarantee that you would get what you wanted. Of course, it would be a different matter altogether if you got an executed will or some legally-binding document to forge your last request.

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Choosing to Not Give Up

How many times do we hear the old adage, “Never give up”? We see a friend who has lost hope after so many attempts, and our instant reaction is to probably say, “Hey, don’t give up!” Or perhaps we would blurt out: “Just don’t give up, keep on trying!” This reminds me of a half-joke we used to tell in school:

Try and try, until you die

Just do it, or die trying.

It seems so simple – that of not giving up – and yet it is probably the most difficult thing to do in our lives. It’s much easier said than done.

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Enlightenment

In the past couple of days I had the rare privilege of attending a kenshuu – the closest translation would be a seminar, I think, although they wouldn’t really call it that way (semina- refers to a different thing in Japanese).

It was a two-day “enkarejjing” (encouraging) kenshuu for women employees. I sat there, in rapt attention, listening to the brilliant resource person who handled the seminar, and tried my best in interacting with the women during our round-table discussions. I tried to absorb as much as my limited Japanese ability would allow.

In a word? Enlightening. I never realized until now that there are many women out there who are facing the same issues as I am, and who practically have the same concerns and anxieties as I do. I was like – wow, you’re a researcher too? And you have young children too? How do you manage to balance work and home? How supportive is your husband in all of these? I mean, these are issues that I never really get to talk about with my colleagues (for an obvious reason, mainly that I am the only woman there doing that kind of work).

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Flood-filled Memories

I was looking at the slideshow photos posted on the Internet of the recent ferry disaster in the Philippines, where hundreds of people are feared dead and trapped within the ill-starred Princess of the Stars owned by Sulpicio Lines. It pains me a lot to hear of tragic news like this. My heart sincerely goes out to the relatives and families of the victims.

In the same slideshow were related photos of the flooded streets of Metro Manila and Iloilo, due to the same typhoon Frank.

Perhaps others would just casually look at those photos and forget about them in an instant. But as for me, the photos bring back a lot of memories.

baha You see, my entire childhood was practically spent in the municipality of Navotas, where floods are as commonplace as the balut vendors on the street. Our subdivision was built on reclaimed land by some half-brilliant developer, and with each succeeding year the place sank deeper and deeper. It didn’t take too long before the adjacent river overflowed each time there was a high tide, and pretty soon the water level got high enough to enter the houses. Kids from the squatters’ area would splash and frolic in the waters as if it was their personal swimming pool. (Photo credit: Yahoo! News Photos)

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Reminiscing on Father’s Day

I have a lot of fond memories of my late Dad. Of course, not all memories are probably worth reminiscing, and if we had a choice, there are certain memories which we’d rather bury. But for me, those memories – good and bad – are made even more precious now that he is gone.

daddy lilet baguio 1976
Daddy and his pouty little girl. Trip to Baguio, 1976

If I were describe a specific memory with my Dad that is fondest to me, it would be the time when I got back from Baguio during the Holy Week of 1995. I was spending the Holy Week in Baguio with my Mom and cousin, but I had to make an emergency trip back because I went down with chickenpox. (I know, I know, I was a late bloomer!) Prior to the trip, Daddy and I were not on speaking terms because he had just found out about my relationship with Baggy. I kept it as a secret from the rest of my family because I was afraid that they would not be able to accept him. He was very mad at me, and he was really hurt because I had somehow “betrayed” his trust.

When Dad opened the door to our house that night when I arrived, he gave me that dagger look which sort of demanded, “What the heck are you doing here?

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Disturbing

By now the rest of the world has probably heard about the latest stabbing spree in Akihabara. It’s the very nature of the place, its popularity, that makes it worthy of worldwide attention. As of this writing, there have been seven confirmed dead. Supposedly killed by a man who indiscriminately stabbed people because he “was tired of life.” The suspect is only 25 years old.

This brings to mind another incident about two months ago. In almost the same manner, someone ran amuck ala Rambo at Arakawaoki Station (Joban line). So, no, it’s not as popular as Akihabara, and it didn’t get covered much except for the local news. But just the same, it was where 8 people were tragically killed stabbed at random by a man, and at least one person died. That station is just about five kilometers from where we live, but when that incident actually happened, we were just 5 minutes away from the station. When we heard the news, it sent shivers down our spines.

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Our Little Pianist

It has been a while since I last posted a video of Aya playing the piano. She is now in Primary 4, thankfully. Just six more months to go before she moves on to the Junior course. She has improved a lot since last year. She still enjoys playing and learning how to play the piano. What is more important for me at this stage is that she is having fun while learning, and appreciating music at such a young age. Well, I guess in a way I’m learning, too, because there is no one else in the house who can supervise her. But the truth is that it’s not easy for me, because I don’t really play the piano (just trying hard!). In a way I’m being forced to learn with her. Yan kasi. 🙂

Anyway, I’ve uploaded a couple of videos to YouTube. The first video is where she played “Kawaii Hanataba.” (Go figure what it means in Japanese…kawaii is cute, and hanataba means…uh, I dunno.) The second video is where she played three short songs which she learned in Primary 3: Aoi tori, Ohayou, Koguma no Ma-chi, and Rondon Bashi (London Bridge).

Do forgive the mistakes. After all, perfection is not achieved overnight. 🙂

Singkil, the FAST Way

I just want to share the photos and video taken during the Tsukuba Festival held last May 10-11, 2008. Take note, the dance performers are students and researchers here in Tsukuba, and they have no professional training whatsoever in folk dancing. But every year, members of the Association of Filipino Scholars in Tsukuba (FAST) never fail to deliver dance numbers that always delights the audience. They all lend their time and talent in order to make sure that Filipinos will be visible in the festival. Their participation in the festival is a way to share the rich and unique culture of our country to the international community here in Tsukuba. (And contrary to what you may probably think, they don’t receive any kind of remuneration for their performance in the program!)

This year, FAST presented Singkil, another famous folk dance in the Philippines which employs bamboos. As far as I know, the only other time Singkil was performed by FAST was in 2002. Compared to the Tinikling, Singkil is much more elaborate, and involves more performers. And yes, more bamboos.

I’m not good in dancing, and I never perform in these FAST presentations at the Tsukuba Festival. But I do get tapped for emceeing once in a while (like once every three years har har har). I’m not that good in Japanese, and for sure I read and pronounce some of the words in the wrong way…but it seems that I am the only one gutsy enough to do it. You’ll find me as one of the emcees in the video, where I gave the Japanese introduction of Singkil and the song Ako ay Pilipino. 🙂

Without further ado, here’s the performance of the FAST members in the recently held Tsukuba Festival 2008. Kudos to everyone! Yoku gambarimashita ne! 🙂

For photos, check out the FAST website at http://fast.bagarinao.com

Bitter Lessons

This week has been most peculiar. How could I describe it? Weird, strange, unusual, depressing, shocking. I’m still reeling from the unexpected turn of events.

I lost a friend. This song has been playing in my head for the past few days, and deep in my heart I wished that I knew how to save a life. If only I knew…

Those Nasty Spam* Callers

Almost nobody we know calls us on our landline phone nowadays. It’s the cellphones, sweetheart. And with the free unlimited calls available to Softbank’s White Plan subscribers, it’s much economical to call cellphones than landlines nowadays. Unless of course you’re calling to another NTT line.

However, if the phone rings, 90% of the time it would be one of those persistent callers from our dear motherland who are forever hawking their products, or trying to sweet-talk us into subscribing to Filipino channels on cable TV.

Sometimes they would speak in Japanese, asking if there were any Firipin-jins at home. When I’m in a playful mood, I’d go along and speak to them as if I were Japanese, not Filipino. It amused me to no end to hear the caller struggle in Japanese, not knowing that they were actually talking to a kababayan.

*Spam = unsolicited email. In the same spirit, I now refer to telemarketers as spam callers.

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