Ramadan.

The thirty days of fasting is almost over, supposedly 30 days of quiet reflection and repression of human desires. I am not muslim so I can only be outside looking in, yet without a choice I also find myself wandering at the heart of this tradition.

They say that people are kinder, more peaceful, more forgiving  more generous around here in the Arab world at this time the year but sadly the bloodshed continue, the prejudice continue, the ignorance continue and selfish desires continue.

For what good is prayer if one doesn’t know compassion or humanity. What good is prayer to people to who have a vague idea about love or whose idea of Love is between the legs, empty romantic messages sneaked in on midnight, Teddy Bears on a 24-7 grocery store. 

The tale of the tower of Babel is true, people have grown up with so much prejudice and hate for one another that they have been punished to speak in alien tounges,  vaguely understanding each other, so they end up criticising what they don’t understand.

The truth is, its not just the Arab world. Look at Norway. Turned out your Average Blonde Guy had it in him to be the next Hitler, or you don’t have to go very far, I’m sure there are enough average people around you who think they are better simply because they were born of a certain race.

In this quiet month, I’ve been asking myself, why can’t people get along nowadays? Why can’t we be kinder to each other?  Why can’t we mean what we say and say what mean? Why is it so hard to appreciate each other?  Why is it so hard to CARE?

Kindness costs nothing yet we are willing to pay the price for sloth, selfishness, vanity and greed.

Seriously, what is the use of fasting, if we cannot give even just a little to those who are dying of Hunger, not just physical but emotional and spiritual.

Somebody would come in and say the world is not my problem. But let me ask you, what do you think about when you look at the Moon? Or the Sunset ? or the Sea?  Or when you close your eyes to sleep?

Aren’t we all just looking at the same thing from another angle? Aren’t we all just breathing the same air?

I’m not trying to point fingers, obviously I have my own failings and weaknesses, but merely stating observations.  The world is increasingly breeding a population full of self-obsessed , self-patronizing, socially inept individuals recording, tweeting away their lives every 5 seconds.

In fact I am beginning to think my niceness has come to point where it is becoming a liability and that I am now thinking about being selfish and rude like everyone else - Become UNAVAILABLE. But then again what good would it do to become another selfish person?

I am not perfect, I am merely alarmed at what we all are turning out to be. Everyone is suffering. We will all burn in hell. 

Ramadan.  Really what for?

 

Dubai – 2 years and counting

(on the road, photo taken from my lomocam, march 2009)

March 15 2009 --- I packed my bags  and journeyed 4000 miles or so into the unknown. I just quit my job (which after almost 5 years became -quite literally- my life) two days back, left loving friends and family in a daze, that it all seemed unreal to me and to them.  I  wasn’t scared, I wasn’t that sad, or you know how it feels when you feel too much, you stop feeling anything that you just want it done and over with.

After few hours on the plane (and several glasses of white wine), I caught myself crying non-stop. As if  I was grieving the loss of my old life, and the fact that It will be a very long year before I can ever see the people that I loved the most again, and even then I just know it will never be the same.  So I cried my eyes out on the plane that by the time we landed I was somewhat relieved, cleansed by all things past and managed to find enough courage to move on to the next big adventure.

I am not gonna go into details of what happened next, but suffice to say that after 2 years of living here as an expat I have seen , done and gone through a lot things that I would probably never would have thought of if I was still in my sheltered cocoon in Manila. They’re not all good, they’re not all bad, but I am happy and proud to say that I have officially no regrets.

They say there is no better teacher than experience and I found this to be true in all aspects. Living in Dubai – 2 years and counting, is where I've learned some of the most important life lessons :

1. To be a woman, realize what it really means , and learn what it takes to be one.  It is tough to be a woman in a country where people have a different view of women in general , Asians & Filipinas in particular. I have said this before, and I'lll say it again, I have met so many fascinating, inspiring, strong, independent, talented beautiful (inside out) pinays out here, that knowing them actually made me a better person.  Their lives, their experiences....I have just met a woman who at 37 has been jailed in Saudi, almost died in drunken car accident in Dubai, her sea sailing husband has left her with 2 kids and no kind of support, yet she surfaced strong and vibrant with  a cute flower tattoo on her  knee to show, and that’s just one person.  If after 2 years or so in the Middle East and you haven’t learned to be a proper woman, I’d say you’re either very dense or very dependent or both.

2. To be a Fiipino and learn to  appreciate my country and my countrymen.  Living away from home made me realize what I love most about the Philippines and what I admire most of about Filipinos –resiliency, resourcefulness and positivity.  The best traits of a fighter.  

Of course when you love someone its like you're seeing them for the first time and you also find the worst in the them, but the good thing is you now have that desire to make it better, by avoiding the same pitfalls.

I was just talking to a French friend the other night and here’s what she had to say – that she found her Filipino workmates very easy to get along with, always happy and smiling, they work hard, but the only bad trait is that they chit-chat too much. Chizmiz, the buzz, you tell them one thing and the next minute everyone will know. Its really sad, but its something we can’t deny.

Chismis (gossip) is our ultimate downfall. Pinoys like to talk, and when they do they talk about other people, I am guilty of this sometimes, but I am proud to say that have successfully managed to control this thanks to the help good friends who feed my thirst for sensible and enlightening conversations .  So please the next time you’re with someone you just met, pinoy or otherwise, please try to think of something else to say other than “may boyfriend ka na?” or “when was your last relationship?”. Really its lame.

3. To Love more and judge less. Love is the simple solution to most things, but unfortunately because we are vain and blinded by self-love we do not see that we are all connected, we are different but we are the same. I’ve met so many different nationalities, so many different,  annoying quirks and the trick is just to find the thing that makes them tick and from there build your understanding of them. I am hardly ever the best in this, I am still judgemental in a lot of ways (I blame it on being Pinoy) , but the thing is now, I try harder.

4. To believe in music more so than I ever did before. Its true, music is the language that connects us all. Its my lifeblood. it fuels me, it defines me and I am better person today because of it. It has helped me relate to others better. Truth be told, I would not have survived Dubai if not for my Ipod. When there’s nothing else, find your song and play it loud.

5. To find God. I found that in your darkest days, when there’s really no one else, when there’s nothing or no one to hang on to, not even yourself, He is there and whatever happens happens for a reason. I found that life is only meaningless if you think that everything happens at random, If you don’t look up to something bigger than yourself. 

Now Religion  is something else, people make it complicated, to a point where you only see their politics but not the Truth. I have found that my devotion should not be ruled by what these people have got to say. My relationship with God is my own and as long as I have faith, let the self-righteous be damned.

Also, that i may not like the Church or the congregation so much, but I like being Catholic. Its good to know that I made that choice for myself and not by anybody else.

6. Lastly, I learned to appreciate and respect myself more. I learned my worth as a person and that I don’t need to settle for loose change from people. You teach people how to treat you, so you don’t let them get away with treating you like crap. Anywhich way, I say,  Whatever, I am fabulous and its their loss, bwahahaha

So there you go 2 years and counting. Pretty heavy stuff, I doubt if I’d have come face to face with all this things if I didn’t leave the comfort zone. If you managed to get this far, thanks for reading. I highly-recommend jumping off the cliff to the unknown. Its not safe but hey - You live, You learn. 

People power – 25 years and counting

I woke up on Saturday morning from a strange dream - that I hopped on a taxi in Dubai and then suddenly forced to board the “Bicol Express”, you know that old tram that runs from Paco to Bicol, then taken off to a dingy clinic in a rural town in the Philippines to get immunity shots for an unidentified virus that deletes memory.

The People Power Revolution (also known as the EDSA Revolution, the Philippine Revolution of 1986) was a series of popular demonstrations in the Philippines that began in 1983 and culminated in 1986. This case of  non-violent revolution led to the departure of President Ferdinand Marcos and the restoration of the country's democracy.

Feeling strange, I did not realize what all of this meant until I sat down to check what my friends 8000 miles away are up to, only to come across a youtube video of the Coca cola Happiness truck moving around Marikina giving out sweet little things, roses, coke, pogo sticks, folding chairs and teddy bears.

I started the year caught up with "Dubai’’, the parties, the clubs, the arena concerts, the shopping festival, Friday brunches,  shimmery eye makeup  -  sparkling, extravagant, often exaggerated- Dubai, and it left me setting the bar higher, wanting more and more things for myself and my family.

Seeing the Coke truck move around Marikina was like a shot in the arm. Memories came flooding back, of happy summers spent with friends, eating fishballs and drinking coke from a plastic bag. The dream was real. The video reminded me of simple joys back home and how, considering all the shit that’s going on, pinoys are really some of the coolest people you’ll ever find in the world, cheesy sentimentality aside.

The rest of my afternoon was spent watching this brilliant BBC documentary where a London Bus Driver tackles on the task of a Jeepney driver in the Toughest Place to Drive on Earth - Manila . It turned out to be more than just a story of taking on a dare, but an accurate portrayal of our lives as Pinoys, which can all be summed up in one word – STRUGGLE.

If you look at it from a foreigner’s perspective, what Pinoys consider as norm, to them is a great Injustice. Yet we remain cheerful, persevering, resilient, rolling along the punches and bearing our crosses with the tough determination of a jeepney driver or a boxer.

 To foreign eyes, we were handed Lemons, to us these Lemons are better than nothing and you just gotta find a way to survive.  We spent 1000 hours stuck in a traffic jam every year, but there’s nothing else we can do but grin and bear it. So when a red truck pulls up in the neighbourhood to hand out free soda we can’t help but smile. What joy, what relief it must be to be given something you didn’t particularly had to work hard for.   

It is no wonder why the Philippines stop for Manny Pacquiao.  It is no wonder we proudly claim every talented pinoy singer who makes it big abroad.  It is no wonder we put  on 3stars-and-a sun stickers on our cars, or wear poloshirts with the Philippines map on it.

We are all in desperate need of heroes and the slightest signs of hope for a country that seems to have already been taken to the dogs.  Living in the Philippines or having a family in the Philippines, meant being in a life-long Survivor Challenge that you just feel you earned the right to wear a shirt for it, to celebrate your sacrifices.

At the wake of 25 years anniversary of the EDSA revolution, where the world first got a glimpse of how truly great we are, it seemed to me we all need a shot in the arm for a virus that is spreading quickly - erasing everything we learned, everything we stood for, everything we had been fighting for.  

Twenty five years and we have nothing much to show.  In the BBC documentary, Rogelio the Jeepney driver speaks about his frustration, how no matter how hard he works everyday his circumstance never change, on the other hand the fithy rich become richer and filthier.

Somewhere along the way those of us who have found better lives, those of us who were lucky enough to get a taste of sparkling, extravagant, exaggerated good life,  somewhere along the way we forgot that we have been handed a responsibility, a responsibility that is rooted in the faith that we have all been raised to believe - to love one another as much as you love yourself.

25 years and we have nothing show. Its easy to point fingers, to complain, to throw in the towel, take your family and leave, but we all seem to have forgotten that 25 years ago we had the courage and capability to take it into our own hands, to stick the finger to the man and get what we wanted.

I realize I am just one person, but if by pouring my brains and heart out to people who would listen would help me inspire others to go D-I-Y and pay it forward then maybe I can make a dent. Maybe its time we stop complaining and just do what we can to help, in whatever way. 

We may have limited resources,  we may come from different backgrounds, records show there is strength in numbers. Maybe its time we stop thinking of  People Power as Marcos vs. Aquino thing, Red vs. Yellow, and stop debating whether the ex-president should get a heroes burial. He’s dead anyway. We 80million strong are not. 

I am sorry for the long post, and if you are still with me, thank you for taking the time.

I realize that me and my peers are now in that stage of our lives where we are actually capable of doing something, but if we let it die, the dream will die with us. I don’t want to forget, I don’t want to give up without trying and I believe there are others out there like me who just need a shot in the arm to remember how really, uberly cool it is to be Pinoy, cheesy sentimentality aside.

Happiness in 3 Gulps

the smallest coke you'll ever find, and its in arabic.