Paowee's Time

It's time for the Second to graduate high school. This is a big step for him since he is going to study in UP Diliman come June. When his Manang Issa asked him how he felt about this big change, his answer was he was scared. But he is looking forward to it with great expectation, because he said it was his choice.


Two weeks ago, I attended his recollection mass, and the parents were asked to read their palanca letters to their kids. When I was writing this letter the night before, I wasn't that emotional as when I read it to him. I didn't expect to cry. But I did. I guess in my heart, I'm happy and at the same time hesitant to let go of another child. 


Allow me to share with you my message for him.

Dear Pao…

Cliché or no cliché, I can really say that time really flies fast. Here you are, just two weeks shy from your graduation day. Wasn’t it just yesterday when you first stepped in at Lasalle? You’ve no doubt grown into a more matured Juan Paolo—smarter, more thoughtful, less aloof.

I think that you have become more open to me due to the forced circumstance that we were left alone in Bacolod. The ‘us’ time that we have during our trips to and from your school gives me a lot of time to know you more. You just don’t know how much happiness you give me every time that you tell me about your day’s activities, or when you find an interesting book and you share it with me, or when you sometimes ask me challenging trivia questions. These moments are precious to a mother like me. Thank you for opening up a little of your heart. Can you let me in a little bit more next time?

The most precious moments I remember with you are the smallest gestures that you do. Like when you say you will go with me to the grocery for no reason. Or when you ask me to go to the movies with you (although we haven’t found the right movie yet;-)). Or when you bring me buko juice or banana cue or anything from your canteen. But I will never forget that time when we came out from 888, and it was raining. You removed your barong, and handed it out to me to put over my head. I almost cried of elation. I thought, well now,my baby is now a man.

I’m not saying though that there is no room for more hopes and wishes for changes and improvement. Believe me, there are still a lot that you need to learn that Dad and I want to tell you. Yes, I scold you at times (who else is here, right?), but know that it is because I care for you and I am molding you to be a better man for the future of our family. You are precious to us, Pao. To Dad. To Manang. To Carlo. Especially to me. Please remember that.

As you embark on your next step towards the open and free space—Manila, UP, college—I pray that all the values that we have taught you (and we’ll be teaching you in summer!) will all be remembered and practiced by you. We may not be there with you as you go through that most important phase in your life, but if you would look into the deep recesses of your heart, I’m certain that you would always find us guiding you all the way to your dreams.

We love you, dear Paowee. You will always be my sweet and thoughtful Paowee.

Love you much,

Mom and Dad

                           Congratulations, Pao! I know you will continue making us proud.

60K

Yey, I was able to raise P60,000 in two days.


But not for my pocket, of course. The University of the Philippines Concert Chorus is putting up a souvenir program for its Pamamaalam Concert in March, and, as the Chorus is celebrating its 50th year too, the past touring batches were asked to sponsor an ad for it.


And Batch 1990 rose to the challenge. At first, we were just aiming for one page. There were only two days before the deadline, and I didn't know if the members could be easily contacted at a short period of time. But when the pledges came pouring in, it was clear that we could hit our aim--and more! After numerous emails and private messages with the members, we were able to collect pledges enough for a two-page spread. Our '90 Tour Coordinator, Zoe Arroyo-Nell, woke her hubby up at 3 a.m. (U.S. time) to work on the layout. At 11:05 p.m., 55 minutes before the deadline, we were able to officially claim the 2-page ad, and submit the layout. Whew!


I was just overwhelmed with the generous support of the batch. Now I realize how much my friends in Chorus love and cherish the moments we had together on the tour. Thanks, you guys! I'm proud to be one of you.


60K? What, like it's hard?

Lucid Dreaming

I am freaking out.


Remember my story about my nightmare? Well, it happened again. And this time, the dream has gotten longer and I was able to walk around. 

It happened two nights ago. I opened my eyes and saw my room, but I knew I wasn't awake. I knew I was dreaming. I was telling myself, "Oh no, not again!" I didn't see any bad elements, thank God, so I was not that afraid. But I didn't want to be in this dream state, so I started to pray. But then I still couldn't wake up. I willed myself to stand up, and I was surprised that I was able to. I wanted to go to Paolo's room to wake him up and tell him to sleep with me in my room. It was dark, so I kind of groped my way to his room. I opened his door, saw him lying on the bed, and tried to wake him up. But he wouldn't, no matter how hard I shouted. I realized that it was futile waking him up because he couldn't hear me. I frustratingly went back to my room and lay down on my bed again. After a few seconds, I felt I woke up. I went back to sleep, but the dream continued. This time, I stood up again, and went down the stairs. I saw my helper downstairs, but she didn't see me. Then I really woke up. It was about 3:10 in the morning. I chose not to sleep anymore, and researched about my experience on the net.


Some things I found out:


1. This wasn't astral projection, or an out-of-body experience (OBE) because I didn't see my body on the bed when I came back to my room.


2. This wasn't somnambulism, or sleepwalking because sleepwalkers usually don't remember what they did during their dream.


3. This was what dream experts and psychiatrists call lucid dreaming. It is the state when one is actually aware that he is in a dream. This has been researched scientifically, and its existence has been well-established. When someone is in a lucid dream state, the dreams seem vivid and real. Some can even control and manipulate their dreams to make them more suited to the dreamer's wants, although not every lucid dreams are pleasant. 


4. I found out that some people actually want to develop this skill of lucid dreaming, believing that they can rehearse success in their waking life. They enhance their power of mind by imagery, so they say. They can overcome nightmares. Or they believe they can facilitate physical healing by dreaming about it.


I don't know about those people who want to develop this "power", but I want nothing of it. 
Please, God, can I just be an ordinary dreamer?

Lost in Translation

I had the most terrible manic Monday last week.


One of our school's Korean students, who is 62 years old, (yes, they still want to learn English even at that age!), wanted to know his score in the interview test we conducted the week before. So while he was seated on a bench outside the school lobby, I handed him his evaluation results, and went up to some co-teachers who were seated on a nearby bench and talked to them. 


Then he called me, "Hey!" and gestured me to come to him. 


I was a little bit annoyed. I never really warmed up to the idea of someone calling me 'hey', Koran or no Korean. I felt I was his helper being called to do something for him. But I still went near him. He asked me if it was really his score, which was rather low, and asked if the perfect score was 100. I said yes, and went back to talk to my co-teachers. 


A few seconds later, the old man called me, "Hey!" again.


Now I'm sorry, but I was pissed. So I sat beside him, probably with a stern look on my face, and told him, "Please don't call me, "Hey!" It's very rude to call someone, "Hey!" Even if you are old, you shouldn't call someone that." My voice sounded calm, but I knew I looked tense.


Then he started shouting at me. 


"Why, angry? You, teacher. Me, just student. How to call you?" 


"Well, you should've at least said, "Excuse me. But you called me "Hey!" twice. And for me, that is rude," I explained calmly. 


His voice got louder. He repeated that I should have understood that he was just a student and he didn't know. The Korean assistant manager heard him shouting, and tried to calm him down. He shifted in Korean yelling, threw the piece of paper I gave him on the floor, and continued with his verbal diatribe.


That's when I stood up to go inside my classroom, and cried. I was shocked at how easily his temper snapped just like that. In my five years of teaching in that school, no one (and I have taught other old students too) has ever violated my sense of self-respect and dignity. 

http://www.davidhughes.org/lost-in-translation/

The owner's wife, Youngju, comforted me and tried to explain how seniority in Korea is given utmost value, and old people can admonish anyone any time they like. Of course I already knew that. I know that Koreans are ultra polite to older people, or anyone who is older than them in age. I admire that trait in them. But the opposite is true on how they treat those who are younger--the older ones can be tactless and inconsiderate to the younger set. To Koreans, age begets wisdom, and they think that gives them the prerogative to be always right. 


Of course we, Filipinos, are the same. We respect our elders. But we also respect the young ones.


Surprisingly, he apologized the next day. While he was explaining his side, I was just politely smiling, but I think I spaced out. I accepted his apology with just a nod and a smile. I didn't want to talk to him anymore.


I didn't want to get lost in translation again.