Fearless

If it weren’t for a colleague sharing this story on Facebook, I wouldn’t have the good fortune of learning about this amazing woman – the late Margaret Moth. She was a camerawoman for CNN. Her colleagues describe her as fearless and one who certainly lived life to the fullest. She was assigned to Sarajevo, and there she shot footage of soldiers and civilians alike, all caught in the turmoil. One fateful day in 1992 she was shot in the face by a sniper. But that didn’t stop fearless Margaret Moth. Upon recovery, she went back to Sarajevo like nothing had happened. After being diagnosed with colon cancer more than three years ago, her journey came to a close last month. She was 59.

Margaret Moth is the kind of person I strive to be. From the way she dresses to her admirable love and compassion for animals to her awesome and fierce fearlessness, she is the epitome of a life well lived. She always wore black, always had thick black eyeliner – basically she was gothic-looking even before goth became a fashion trend. She even wore her boots while she slept so that she’d be able to get up and run when something happens. One time their crew needed to travel by a horse-drawn wagon, and she refused to ride on the wagon because she was worried it’d hurt the animal. She’d go skydiving like it was just a walk in the park. She’d push herself to get closer to obtain the best footage, not being scared of violent protestors or terrorists open firing. She even wanted to meet the sniper who shot her!

(more…)

Running Is the New Badminton (and My New Addiction Too)

So I started jogging about a week ago. As a self-proclaimed bohemian, I am not fond of jumping on bandwagons, whether it be related to music, fashion or whatever. It’s just a coincidence that I started jogging and that fun runs and marathons are sprouting everywhere. You see, last week my best friend officially announced to the barkada that she is engaged and that she and her fiancé are planning to get married next year. I am going to be her maid of honor! I figured I needed to start losing weight and maintaining my desired figure as early as now so that I’d look smashing (of course, not as smashing as her) come her big day.

It would also be good for me, I thought. I needed to improve my stamina anyway because some days I really feel tired before my day barely even started and lethargic especially right before and during my period. I also get terrible cramps during my period, and the only effective way to reduce those is if I exercised regularly. Heart disease runs in my mother’s side of the family, and if there’s one organ I should be taking care of as early as now, that’d be my heart. I badly need some cardio training.

Soliciting help from a friend, my first day of jogging was grueling. We spent more than an hour, walking and jogging uphill, downhill, until my legs felt like Jell-O, me panting like a dog. She gave me some tips to better improve my jogging. She told me I should go at my own pace and jog as long as I felt my body can. But the most important tip she gave me was this: mind over matter. Don’t think that you’re tired. It works, I tell you. What I do is I bring my MP3 player and just lose myself in the songs I listen to so that I won’t be thinking about feeling tired too much.

(more…)

A Nation of Entertainers

I rarely watch the local channels. I’m thankful that we have cable. If others would be snoring like a truck, watching Discovery, National Geographic, Animal Planet, History or Biography channels, I’d be wide awake, glad that there are still worthwhile shows my eyes and mind could feast on. If our local channels won’t stop airing telenovelas, showbiz talk shows, copycat reality and talent shows, and horrendous noontime shows, I’ll stick to cable. Having these kinds of shows is quite alarming if you think about the kids. They grow up wanting to be a celebrity instead of a doctor or a lawyer or a teacher or an engineer or a scientist.

Is it just me or do most Filipinos dream of becoming famous entertainers? Singer, actress, dancer, talk show host, disc jockey, rock star (and the list goes on) – whether it’s on the radio, the small screen or the big screen, it seems everybody wants his or her own 15 minutes of fame. But sometimes I can’t blame them – poverty could push one to find quick and easy ways to make money, and it seems the easiest way is through penetrating the entertainment industry. With reality and talent shows aplenty, now anyone can be a celebrity. What they don’t realize is that fame is short-lived unless you’re a prodigy like Mozart whose music, after more than 200 years, still captivates and moves people. And even if you get paid millions and millions of pesos to gyrate in skimpy clothes or to cry your eyes dry or to sing your lungs out until your voice runs out, if you don’t know how to manage your money, you’ll be back to that old, dilapidated shack in no time.

(more…)

LB

I was born in a small town south of the country’s capital. I finished schooling here, and I still live here after almost three decades of existence. I couldn’t even begin to describe how I’ve come to love this place, with its tree-lined and garbage-free streets, cozy coffee shops, comfy bars, affordable places to eat in, decent schools and prestigious international institutions, all painted against the majestic backdrop that is Mt. Makiling. I’m proud to say that I call this place home.

(more…)

Quit While You’re Ahead

Yesterday was a hot, heatstroke-inducing Sunday morning. My parents and I gathered around the TV to watch one of the biggest events so far this year – Manny Pacquiao vs. Joshua Clottey. I’m imagining all the rest of the Filipino people are also anticipating and expecting an exciting fight, whether they were in a posh sports bar in the city or in the comfort of their own homes or cramped with fellow sweaty spectators inside a non-airconditioned and poorly ventilated gymnasium. Probably middle-aged men were already preparing their booze, knowing for sure that the Pacman will kick Clottey’s ass. Watching a Pacquiao fight was like having a national holiday here in the country. The streets are clean. No traffic jams. Few people on the streets. Even the crime rate is said to drop every time Manny has a fight.

(more…)

Going Green

“What have you done lately to be better stewards of this planet?” That was a question a good friend posed on Plurk, a microblogging site similar to the more popular Twitter. The friend of mine who posed this question is one of the few people I admire when it comes to living a good life. She genuinely cares about the environment, about the Philippines and the Filipino people, about eating healthily, and about living life to the fullest. I read the replies and felt quite glad that people are starting to take action to save our planet.

Global warming is no joke, and it is a matter not to be taken lightly. For other people who simply can’t afford to worry about the environment (because they primarily worry about where their next meal will come from or if there will even be a next meal), more fortunate people like us should do what we can to save what is left of our slowly dying planet. One step at a time is the way to do it. Little things, when you add them up, will make a big difference in the long run.

I replied to my friend’s Plurk, briefly summarizing what we in our household do to be a little kinder to Mother Nature. Incidentally, another friend of mine just wrote about global warming in his blog, which gave me an a-ha moment to further elaborate and to share to everyone how we in our home are going green.

(more…)

Bad Girls

Yesterday I finished reading Bad Girls: 26 Writers Misbehave. It’s a compilation of essays edited by Ellen Sussman. From the harmless, little white lie to committing adultery, these essays show the different facets of a bad girl. I wrote an e-mail to Ms. Sussman, thanking her for coming up with the book. Having been a bad girl when I was younger, I felt alone despite knowing that there were others like me. Back then, it felt like the bad girls had a secret underground club of some sort that is being shunned by society. Now that there is actually a book that celebrates the bad girl in every woman, I feel a little less alone.

It left me wondering though, what is a bad girl? Is it the one who taught you how to smoke or the one who took the bait and smoked her lungs away? Is it the one who drank too much to temporarily forget family problems or the one who drank too much to get noticed by guys she knew wouldn’t even glance her way? Is it the one who did mischievous things in order to fit in to the ‘cool crowd’ or is it the one who bullies others to feel better about herself because she has very low self esteem? It’s kinda hard to tell, isn’t it? It really depends on how you look at it. I think society and religion dictate what a ‘bad’ girl is. It depends on social norms, those domestic unwritten/unspoken rules, the law, even tradition. What is normal in other cultures may be considered ‘bad behavior’ in some. Of course, if what you did caused harm to another person, that would generally be considered bad, but other than that, the line between good and bad gets blurry.

In the past, I tried writing about my experiences as a ‘bad’ girl, posting those things in a blog that was accessible only by invitation, meaning not everyone can read it, but like many other things I’ve started, I was not able to follow through. Something inside me wanted to chronicle them before they drown in forgetfulness and dementia when I grow old, but on the other hand, something inside me wanted them to be buried and forgotten. At that time, the feeling of wanting to bury all the bad things I did overcame me and so I stopped writing about them. I told Ms. Sussman that reading the book rekindled that dwindling fire, the burning desire of putting into words my experiences. Now, that compulsion of writing down every juicy, little detail is resurfacing again. Whether it’d be a blog or a book, I don’t know yet. But definitely, someday I will also write my story.

(Image from EllenSussman.com)

Market Day With Mum

I used to hate going to the market, particularly the wet market. When I was little, I used to go to the wet and dry market with Mum downtown to buy meat, fish, fresh fruits and vegetables good for a week’s consumption. I can’t remember now whether she dragged me with her to the market or I went with her just because I was bored. Either way, I hated going to the market.

I didn’t like the smell of wet markets. It made me kinda dizzy, the smell of newly slaughtered cow or chicken or pig with their flesh precisely chopped into choice cuts; the smell of newly caught fish and other seafood that sometimes are still writhing on the vendor’s table, hanging on to dear life. I didn’t like how the smell stuck to your clothes, and you went home smelling like fresh meat. I didn’t like combing through wet markets because the uneven flooring, the gaps which were sometimes only bridged by flimsy wood boards, and the slippery surface made walking without slipping difficult. It didn’t help if there were a lot of people accidentally bumping into you or poking your ribs with their elbows.

(more…)

Role Reversal

This afternoon I went grocery shopping with Mum after office hours. She said she needed to pick up a few items. I was the one driving the car to the supermarket, she sitting relaxed on the passenger seat, looking out, windows rolled down, the wind caressing her face. I always like driving for Mum. For many, many years she has been the one driving me to school and to wherever I needed to go. She’s in her 50s now, and some health issues that come with age are starting to set in. She’s slowly yielding and giving the wheel more and more to me and my younger brother. Another reason why I like driving for Mum is that she’s able to see things she isn’t able to see when she’s the one driving. She notices the new building being constructed around the block or how plenty the people are that flood the streets during rush hour.

I parked near one of the supermarket entrances so that we wouldn’t have to walk too far. At the side entrance there were shopping carts lined up, ready to service grocery-deficient customers. I went straight inside while Mum lagged behind. She got one small cart before entering. I asked her why she got a cart when we were only buying a few items. She just smiled, said it’s good to have one anyway. I chuckled, thinking this might turn out to be an impulse buying spree. First, we got what we really needed like some fruits. After the first item, I took over pushing the cart. The more items you got, the harder it is to push the cart. I didn’t want to tire her more. So I followed her wherever she went, whether she was just window shopping for an item or actually selecting one to put into our cart.

(more…)

Honesty and Relationships

So I’ve just finished reading Scott Adams’ God’s Debris. For those who don’t know Mr. Adams, he’s the creator of the ever hilarious comic strip Dilbert. The book’s introduction warns that the ideas contained in it might prove to be quite radical or maybe even disturbing to the rather conservative and traditional-minded. I must say, reading the book made my head spin (in a good way). It was like a breath of fresh air. One of the many ideas that stuck to me is this: Honesty is like food. Both are necessary, but too much of either creates discomfort. This is something I have never considered before, that too much honesty can actually be a bad thing.

You see, when I was 16, my last year in high school, I fell in love with 22-year-old out-of-school youth that I met through a common friend. Naturally, my parents disapproved of our relationship, given his educational status. The rebel that I was, their disapproval just added fuel to the fire, making me want to pursue the relationship more. So most of the time, we got together secretly and I had to make up all sorts of excuses just to get out of the house on weekends or come home late on weekdays. Looking back, I realized maybe my parents, especially my mom, could see right through my lies like clear plastic wrap.

(more…)