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Choices

I recently read articles posted on two popular national news sites about someone who graduated recently with a BS Applied Physics degree from UP. Nothing unusual there, except for the fact that the articles were both based on a post the graduate wrote himself, which somehow became viral over social media. The gist of the story, as far as I can tell, is the usual good ol’ fashioned “rags to riches,” “succeed against all odds”-type that certainly appeals to the majority of Filipinos. In his post, he also mentioned that while he may have succeeded despite being poor, it is an exception, not the norm, because millions of poor Filipinos still do not have access to the proper education that they rightly deserve. Being poor is a hindrance to education, health, and well, basically anything. But if you happen to be someone gifted with intellectual prowess, in a country like the Philippines, education seems to be the only sure-fire way to change your socio-economic status in life. Because if you’re smart enough, at least opportunities are available so you can get your education for free, and then that will be your jumping board for a career and everything else.

The story strikes me because I personally know of many people who started from “nothing” and somehow succeeded despite the odds against them being poor. I know exactly how that feels, because believe it or not, once upon a time I too skipped meals because I didn’t have any money. I pawned household items just so I could buy dinner. My parents certainly could not afford to send me to college, and it was only through the saving grace of scholarships that I was able to get an education.

My husband also came from similar humble beginnings, and we would often discuss how we ended up the way we did. We would not have met if we didn’t both end up choosing an esoteric course like Physics, because “poor but deserving” and academically excelling students like us were only offered scholarships in the very subjects that the rich and entitled students would never take. These were the only options available to us. I mean, some people I know only chose Physics because it was a non-quota course (at least way back then) and also fulfills the scholarship requirement for a science course. I realized this when I was in the university. Most of the rich students were taking economics and business administration, which are quite practical in the way of handling family-run businesses or starting up new companies. So it kind of becomes like a cycle. The rich find means to preserve and expand their wealth by educating themselves on the very ways to do so, while the poor are left with esoteric subjects like Physics, which are almost always guaranteed NOT to make one financially successful.

Don’t get me wrong; I took up Physics not because I thought it would make me rich (though I must admit I entertained the thought that maybe I could work at a famous place like NASA, in which case I would be rich); if I’m being honest with myself, I chose Physics because I thought myself to be too smart to take anything else. Someone actually suggested to me that if I wanted to become rich, I should take up nursing instead so I can go abroad and earn thousands of bucks. Obviously I didn’t heed that advice, and eventually chose a course that I thought fitted me intellectually. I didn’t even bother to think about what kind of job it would land me when I graduate. I was too wrapped up in my own intellectual bubble, thinking that what an awesome privilege it is to understand concepts that the common masa does not. In my mind’s eye I saw myself as intellectually superior, and my worth was certainly not diminished even if I lived below the poverty line.

When I finally graduated, did it feel like I succeeded? Not at all. I felt like I accomplished something no ordinary citizen could, but neither was I in a position to command respect in the same way that rich and powerful people do. In retrospect, it only marked the beginning to a long and arduous journey that finally took me to where I am now. I decided to take up graduate studies and later on a PhD. But even after that it didn’t really feel like I have succeeded in any way. By the time I got my PhD, my family was still living in someone else’s property, and only got by through the regular remittances I culled from my scholarship allowance. By then I had already devoted almost 10 years of my life studying; by contrast, in that same period my cousins in the States have already purchased themselves luxurious houses and cars, after graduating from a four-year course and doing the kind of job that I thought I was not suited for. So yeah, that really made me think long and hard about my life’s choices.

I guess it boils down to one’s definition of success. It depends on the kind of values and metrics that vary from one individual to the next. But if we are going to use material possessions as a metric, well, I guess Physics did not really get me as far as Nursing did for some people I know. But at least now I do not really have to worry about basic necessities like food and housing, where to get money to pay for my own daughter’s education, and tell you what, that’s something. In my line of work, I get to contribute my “bit” to the growing wealth of knowledge, and sometimes, just sometimes, I discover new things which make me giddy with joy and happiness. I get to publish my findings in papers which will remain as permanent records long after I’m gone and no one alive knows my name. That is my contribution, and achieving this is my own definition of success.

One day I overheard my daughter talking with a friend online about why someone would choose to study something like Philosophy, or Physics. They asked, what do they end up doing anyway?

She said with a chuckle, “Well, you know both my parents took up Physics, but they’re doing cooler things now.” 🙂

Spammers beware

‘Tis the season to be spamming…?

Is it just me, or have the spammers been upping their ante by sending tonloads of spam emails to would-be authors and conference attendees? I mean, gosh, you would not believe the amount of crap I get in my inbox nowadays, ranging from emails from unknown organizers of some shady conference in an exotic island or cruise, to completely unrelated ones that would make you wonder…why do they even bother? Take this email I got lately, for instance:

Dear Dr. Katherine Develos Bagarinao,

I had a glance at your profile in online and I am extremely amazed with your work. I feel you will be an ideal person who helps us for progress of our Journal.Hence, I amapproaching you through this email.

In fact, I am in deficit of one article for successful release ofVolume 15 Issue 2of our Journal. I am requesting you to support us by submitting any type of your article.

We desire to receive your valuable manuscript before 5th December.

We are confident that you will be with us in spreading the scientific research all over the world.

XXXXXX
Orthopedics and Rheumatology Open Access Journal”

Ok, for the moment suspend your disbelief and accept that I am in fact an “amazing” scientist, and that my manuscripts are “valuable.” But seriously, orthopedics and rheumatology? Goodness gracious! It’s outrageously funny, come to think of it. At the same time, though, I feel rather belittled, because is this how gullible they think scientists really are? That we could easily be fooled by some highfalutin praise about ourselves and our work?

Nothing would please me more if I could be recognized for my contributions to scientific research. But that is not the end goal for all this, you see.

I do what I do because I happen to love what I do. Simple as that.

In the meantime, I am unsure if I should make more stringent filters to prevent emails like that from polluting my inbox, or simply treat these small annoyances as a source of amusement. Who knows, maybe someday I’ll get to be invited to be an editor for the renowned journal of microbugs in the environment. 🙂

Free

You hear that sound? Shh…hush and you’ll hear it. That’s the merry little sound that my soul is singing nowadays.

Because I’m free.

It has taken me almost ten years to finally reach a stage where I just couldn’t take it anymore. The enormous amount of crap posted by people online, the obviously deliberate crafting of one’s online image, the lack of control over the kind of content I see on my news feed.

Enough.

I have contemplated deactivating/deleting my account for years, and to be honest, once I actually did it. But at that time, it had not been possible to use the messenger function without reactivating one’s account, so I begrudgingly reactivated my account. I still wanted to stay in touch, and wanted to keep my communication lines open. Of course, that’s total bullshit, because it was only a matter of time before I got back to the usual mindless task of scrolling down my news feed. And before I knew it, I was back to my usual routine.

Well, now it has become possible to still use the messenger app without having to reactivate your account. Yes! Whoever thought of this was a genius.

I have nothing against people who derive satisfaction on spending their precious time on social media. But as for me, I could only look back with regret on all the hours I have spent on it, hours that I could have used for something else.

Like learning how to cook a new dish, learning to play a new musical instrument, reading a new book, working out, getting back to my love of photography, being creative in entirely new ways. Heck, even reviving my blog!

I could only look back with regret at the hours I spent over the years. Even 30 minutes a day amounts to a huge amount of time over years. Imagine what I could have done with those hours. Regrets are made.

It may not mean much, and my absence is likely to go unnoticed by most except a few close friends and family. But then it’s not for their benefit that I am checking out. It’s mine, and mine alone.

Checking out, ladies and gents, and in passing let me just say:

May your lives be as fabulous as you make it seem on Facebook.

Application for passport renewal at the Philippine Embassy Tokyo

Yes, that’s a loaded title filled with all the keywords you can possibly think of. Because I want anyone who is planning to go to the embassy to apply for the renewal of their passports to Google these words, and maybe find this post.

Warning: long post!

If there is any word that can encapsulate the whole experience, it is this:

FRUSTRATING.

As hell.

Well, actually it is not even for myself, it is for my daughter. Her passport is expiring next month. The last time we went there for the same purpose was almost five years ago. Come to think of it, the whole process then was a walk in the park compared to yesterday’s. Whatever happened? Change has come?

As I consider myself to be techno-savvy, I accomplished the online application form way in advance and scheduled an appointment on a Wednesday, 9:30-11:00. I was thinking that half a day should do it. So I arranged to be absent from work in the morning, and also arranged for my daughter to be absent from school so she can be there for her personal appearance.

We stood in line for about half an hour just to get to the window where applications were being received. Apparently only one person was doing all the receiving at the window. I could see that there were less than ten people ahead of us, and some of them were filling up their application forms. So yeah, online applicant or no, everybody falls in line just the same, along with all the non-techno-savvy walk-ins who forgot to bring letter packs and bought their from the sharks outside selling them for twice the price. I started to get the nagging feeling that it was going to be a long morning.

When we finally got our turn, imagine my surprise when I was told that I had to get a PSA/NSO birth certificate issued from Manila. Huwat! I said that I did not find this information in the website. And that five years ago this “important” piece of document was not required. And besides, my daughter holds an ePassport, and I brought the original report of birth which was submitted and signed at the very same consular office. Whatever birth certificate that will be issued from PSA/NSO, will bear the same report of birth which was submitted from the embassy. Does that make any logical sense to you?

“Five years na po ako nandito, hinihingi ho talaga yung birth certificate. Strikto na kasi ngayon…” was the answer I got.

But maybe my face bore that really dumbfounded look that the woman at the window said that maybe our application can still be accepted, if I wrote a letter explaining our situation, explain the pains we took just to travel all the way from home, having to be absent from work/school, etc. That, plus I have to get a freaking copy of the original report of birth so that I get to keep the original I showed her.

I dutifully went to a convenience store and copied the report of birth. I scribbled my plea on a template form used for requesting advice or assistance from the office. I tried to be as objective as possible, and kept my snarky comments to myself. I focused on what needed to be done.

I went back to the application window, and was told to wait for approval. It took another hour before I was called. The approval was given, but the application itself will be considered “pending” until they get a copy of the said birth certificate.

“Makisuyo na lang kayo sa mga kamag-anak niyo para makakuha nong certificate. Tapos i-email niyo na lang.”

Email? Without bothering to tell me the email address, I was told to pay at the cashier and then come back. By this time the line of applicants got as far as the door outside, and that tiny waiting room was getting overcrowded by people. It turned out that most of them were waiting to get inside the room where the biometric data and photograph will be taken.

Well, we finally got inside THE room, but lo and behold: the room was filled with other applicants also waiting their turn. That’s why many of the applicants are waiting outside: they cannot be accommodated anymore. Last time I remembered there were at least three cubicles manned by personnel. This time, there was only one. One! For all the applicants who have to go to Tokyo just because their area falls under their jurisdiction. Pano nga naman matatapos yan ng mabilis.

It took another hour before we finally got called. Outstanding service!

I don’t really know why it would take such a long time to take a picture and get thumbprints and signature. I mean, they do that all the time at the immigration, no? To my horror, the details I have dutifully inputted online were being manually inputted again on the computer while I was asked to confirm and check the accuracy of the spelling, dates, etc. Ok, so why go through all the trouble of filling up online when it appears that none of that information is being transmitted anyway?

Manual din ang bagsak. Gaahd.

Three hours later, we emerged from the embassy feeling rather worn out. In retrospect, I was cocky to think that can get through this procedure painlessly! In a way we even got lucky, I think, because those who came in later were then being told to go to lunch first and then come back at 1:30 PM. Me? I was only too happy to leave, and we were somehow able to file our application and do not need to return anymore.

As for the birth certificate, well, I did say that I will comply and submit the document as early as possible. But dear DFA, this does not make sense at all. It’s not as if we were applying for a passport for the first time, and the current passport is an ePassport, which means that it contains a unique ID chip unlike the other old passports which cannot be read by machines. This makes the submission of a birth certificate entirely useless. Apparently this is only required for minors. Surely there should be a cut-off age?

I was advised by friends to just apply for the NSO birth certificate online and have the document sent over. Sounds convenient, no?

Actually yes, I did apply for it online. But as my daughter was born abroad, here’s part of the email confirmation I got:

Please email the DFA Reference Number, Dispatch Number, Dispatch Date, Transmittal Date of the following document(s) to e-census.info@census.gov.ph together with your Batch Request Number: 
   - Birth certificate of (NAME)
The DFA Reference Number, etc. can be obtained from the Consular Records Division of DFA Manila. More info: http://www.ecensus.com.ph/Secure/FAQs.aspx#D17

Anak ng pusa.

Ibig sabihin nito kailangang tumawag pa ako sa DFA para halukayin nila records ng anak ko. Nagbayad na nga ako ng 20 USD, ako pa ang maghahanap ng information. Para saan pala yung bayad?

Mabuhay ang Pilipinas.

How much is a life worth?

I ask this question because lately I have been forced to do a serious accounting of all the financial support I have been sending out for the entire year. I realized that for all those two decades since I left my home country, there has never been a break. Unlike other people I know, I do not like sending padala through someone just to avoid paying the processing fees required if one sends by bank remittance. I have kept all my remittance slips, every single one of them. I suppose I could go and do a tally, see how much I’ve sent over 20 years. But it doesn’t really matter now, does it?

How much does it take to live comfortably in the Philippines? Well that largely depends on your definition of “comfortable.” If you would ask my Dad, he would tell you that he could live on 100 pesos a day, but he would insist that my Mom could never ever, not by a slim chance.

So like a dutiful daughter, I sent padala. Every single month, to my parents. Until my Dad passed away, and then there was only my Mom left to support. Mom of course eventually started receiving pension money, but the monthly pension she receives is only about the same as what I would normally spend on weekly groceries here. It’s like a damn sick joke.

How does a widow survive on a pittance? No health insurance, no backup plans, no savings, no nothing. And so the remittance just keeps flowing out…to support life, to support the living, to keep things going.

I am not complaining, merely trying to reflect on how much of our lives we spend working and earning, and some of those earnings gets shared to our loved ones, and somehow it is alright. You just have to accept that that’s how the world works. That the reason you are where you are now is because that’s the way it’s supposed to be.

Muni-muni

Hindi ko alam, pero bigla kong na-miss ang Pilipinas. Na-miss ko na magsalita ng Tagalog, hindi Ingles, hindi Hapon. At bigla ko na-miss magsulat sa Tagalog. Tapos napagmuni-muni ko na hindi pa nga ata ako nakakapag-blog ata sa wikang kinagisnan ko. Masubukan nga.

Kung minsan, biglang lang akong susumpungin ng pag-miss sa Pinas. Ang tagal ko na rin kasing di nakakauwi, halos dalawang taon na. Dati-rati, halos taun-taon kaming umuuwi. Pero ngayon hindi na ganon kadali. Pano, ang isa sa amin eh tumalsik sa kabilang gawi ng Pacific. Pero ok lang, siguro naman darating din ang pagkakataon na makakabisita ulit kami. Ang tanong ay kelan.

Continue reading Muni-muni

All in the Mind

A couple of days ago I learned a new (to me) Japanese proverb (kotowaza) which goes:

案ずるより産むが易し

(anzuru yori umu ga yasushi)

According to Jim Breen’s dictionary, this proverb means:

The anxiety that comes from doing nothing is worse than any danger you might face.

Wow, that’s a mouthful. Interestingly, when I did a Google search on this I stumbled upon this Amazon link, where it appears that another simpler translation would be:

Things are easier than you think.

Right now, I’m at this point where I’ve no choice but to face head-on this so-called 二重壁 (nijuu kabe, or double-barrier wall) in my career. The double-barrier referring to being a foreigner and a woman in the workplace, in a male-dominated field, and where there are very few role models around. Why would anyone care if I succeed or not?

On the other hand, being different somehow has its merits – one of these is that people pay more attention (perhaps more than necessary), which could force you to rise up to the occasion and perform your best. I for one know that I really perform well under pressure. But it could also backfire in a way, because it could lead to unnecessary pressure and ultimately, lead to failure. I hate failure as much as anyone else, and this adds to more anxiety.

You see, it’s not enough to be “as good as” the others. You just have to be the better than everyone else to justify your mere presence. And yet, I’m willing to bet, that being better does not even entail 100% acceptance. There will always be some form of resistance just because you’re different. This is the reality of the world we live in.

If it is true, that things are indeed easier than one thinks, then perhaps there is a way to overcome all these obstacles, real or imagined.

If i could find a way to surmount all these obstacles in my mind, then perhaps the rest will follow.

Time for a paradigm shift.

Practice Makes Perfect

Due to the O-bon festival/summer holidays, Aya’s piano class won’t meet for two consecutive weeks. But in order to make sure that the kids still get to practice their lessons even during the holidays, they were given sheets of paper where they will color objects corresponding to each day they practiced. If they have practiced for more than 4 times in a week  –  they will get nice stickers from the sensei.

 

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If you think about it, there’s absolutely nothing exciting about getting stickers on a piece of paper. But you know how kids are – they want to impress not only their sensei but also their classmates. So I guarantee you that Aya will definitely make sure that she gets all her stickers at the end of the holidays.  🙂

 

The point of practicing, of course, is not to accumulate stickers but to enable the children to hone their skillls. As the old adage goes, practice makes perfect.

 

Children have an amazing ability to learn things fast. I myself am amazed at how fast Aya is learning how to play the piano. I’m beginning to feel that the pace of their class at the music school is becoming a tad too slow for her. For instance, they would still be playing by one hand at a time whereas Aya could already play the same piece using both hands.

 

Still, it still takes time to master a particular piece. Perfection is not achieved overnight.

 

Here is a video of Aya playing “Risu no komori uta,” or A Squirrel’s Lullaby. I’m pretty sure that this song is familir to some of you, but I don’t know if that is the same title in English. I just translated it directly from the Japanese title.

 

She does a lot of wriggling, no? Maybe instead of becoming a pianist someday, she’d end up as a dancer! Haha, what a thought.

 

Not So Easy

Whenever I am with Aya in Filipino gatherings, most of them would often inquire: “How old is she?” And after being told about her age, they would make the dreaded expected follow-up question: “So kelan nyo susundan? Wala pa ba kasunod? (So when’s the next one? None yet?)”

 

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Aya and her gummy grin at 11 weeks

 

Others are not so discreet and would unabashedly tell it to my face: “Sundan nyo na! (This would be literally translated, “Follow it up!” But perhaps “Make another one!” would be the more appropriate translation.)

 

Easier said than done, folks. We never said that we don’t want more.

 

In those situations, I usually just whip up my standard response: “Yeah.” “Uhm….?” “We’re trying.” “We’ll wait and see.”

 

You see, there’s a bit of a story before our daughter was successfully conceived.

 

I wrote all about it in my pregnancy blog. But I guess, everyone else became too preoccupied with the fact that there was a new baby, than to be concerned with the so-called “problems” prior to conception.

 

“The ovaries are not working anymore.” That was what the doctor said. “It would be very difficult for you to have children.” Those were his words during our consultation session. I had already been given a second round of hormonal injections a few weeks before, and the findings still indicated that the ovaries were simply not responding at all.

 

As Baggy and I stepped outside the clinic, I couldn’t help but cry. I wanted children, although I didn’t want them so soon. I was only concerned about my overall reproductive health. I wanted children later, and wanted to make sure that I could still have them when the appropriate time comes.

 

But the thought that we could very well end up not having any children made me feel sad and dejected. Wouldn’t that be the greatest paradox of all – just about the time you feel you are ready to have children, that’s the time you find out that you can’t?

 

I was about to start on prescribed medication – to induce ovulation – when wonder of all wonders, I got pregnant.

 

Tell me, how was that possible? Just about the time the lazy ovaries finally decided to crank up, the window of opportunity for fertilization presented itself. Some may call it a miracle.

 

Being pregnant all of a sudden threw my plans out of whack. But sometimes, having something you don’t want is infinitely better than wanting something you can’t have.

 

Would Aya become an “ATE (elder sister)” someday? My doctor still says it’s impossible, given the lazy ovaries’ preference for sporadic hibernation. But I know, for one, that he has been wrong before. Aya is a living testament to that.

 

For another, I know that there’s always hope. 😉

 

Personally, I wouldn’t mind having only one child. For me, Aya is one of the best things that ever happened to me. I really couldn’t ask for more. Wouldn’t YOU want to have a child as adorable as this one?