Gayamen Brett

Dear Ex-Boyfriend

There are a few things I can vividly remember during that momentous day when we decided to tie the knot of eternity (you in your quickly-pressed polo and slacks and I in my 60-dirham dress, haha). You said that when you first saw my picture wearing that pink top, you somehow knew I was the one you were going to marry. I was a complete stranger then but you knew. Well, your gut feel didn’t fail you. That day was the first time I ever tied someone’s necktie. It took 26 years for me to finally do that. I also remember spending the evening dinner with you in Mama’s kitchen as we frantically washed all those plates, thinking about the same things. Not to mention that we experienced two blackouts. I mean two blackouts on your wedding night? Who gets to experience that? And how we ended the day giggling like teenagers because it felt surreal that we were actually married.

Remember how we literally roller-coastered the highways just so we could file our papers on time. We were both having jet lags from our flights but there was no time to catch up on sleep and rest as we had to reach home the soonest before the offices we had to visit close. To make matters worse, our ride got stuck in the middle of nowhere and so we had no choice but to wait for the next passing bus that will take us home–with those countless luggage that still had airport tags on them.

Upon reaching home, there was no time to refresh or even wash our faces as we marathoned our seminars with all those mandatory offices. It was really tiring and a bit frustrating but we managed to do all those with the meager time we had while holding hands all the time.

And you remember this seminar where we unashamedly answered how we understood copulation? Who knew there were supposedly five stages of the act. *blush, blush*

It’s just a year ago but somehow it feels like it’s been eons already.

We already have a list of all these cool, kick-ass names that we’re supposed to give to our thick-haired future kids. We’ve argued over them time and time again as we ticked off names from A-Z (Aaliyah to Zyx; Hahaha!) . We have also decided on what dog to get. I insisted on these humongous breeds but you’re hesitant about keeping a saliva-dripping St. Bernard or Great Dane in that dream little cabin of ours. You wanted a pug or English Bulldog and so we settled on the latter (and a St. Bernard, we have to love!). We’ve also made sleeping arrangements as you don’t like sharing a bed with Byte, or Bark, or Bolt, or Max (and all those other furry love that we’re going to have); you on the couch, me and the furry babies on the bed.

We plan to travel and get lost in the world before parenthood will rob us off these carefree thoughts and plans and as to date, we’re still working our butts off for this to happen. We have these gazillion plans that we draw in the air and which we mull over for endless hours.

It’s just a year but I feel like I can recognize all the sounds and octaves of your farts. Same way that you could always predict whenever a tantrum from me is about to erupt. We don’t finish each other’s sentences as is presumably ideal for soul mates but instead, we perpetually disagree over the most minute of details. We’ve seen each other at our worst and yet we always, always manage to end the day with the comforting thought that our hearts will always beat beside each other.

We’re like two kids, learning and growing with each day spent together. I learn so much from you as I hope you do the same with me. I could not wait for the time to come when I could start learning and mastering my kitchen skills as I prepare 3-minute to 1-hour dishes for you. Same way that I’m excited for the time when we’ll have to take turns dropping the kids off to school. Me in my bad-ass, fiery, yellow Wrangler and you in your puny little jeep. (Haha! Ambitious me.) But seriously, I look very much forward to getting fat with you.

The most wonderful thing is that we were able to do these even though we’re still challenged by this distance. It was not at all easy. We both know we’ve braved a lot of tough times. But we did it together and we continue to hold on like we did since day one. We continue to pray that this frustrating separation will finally end. By then, we both know it won’t just be building sandcastles in the air anymore. We could actually do everything together as what a man and wife should do.

Cheers to a wonderful year! Here’s to many more!

P.S. Thank you dear husband for being very patient with my drama, my tantrums, my quirks and flaws. Thank you for always telling me that I’m beautiful. (Well you should! Ha!) I promise to love you even when all your hairs will fall and you’re toothless and wrinkly and even when you keep the remote control all to yourself. I love you garud. ^_^

Barefoot Chronicles: Panabungen, Besao

A two-hour, bumpy ride through verdant mountains brought us from Kin-iway, Besao to Panabungen. Panabungen is a sitio of Brgy. Laylaya which is host to some of the Episcopal Diocese of the Philippines’ livelihood support programs. The Episcopal Church’s foundation has been spearheading programs that benefit residents in chosen areas of various provinces around the archipelago.

I’ve been lucky to have a friend (thanks Arianne! 🙂 ) who’s an active advocate of programs that are being implemented in the place. Today, they’re dynamically promoting the organic growing and cultivation of mango trees and hog-raising thru organic feeding and methods as well. I had the opportunity to meet several beneficiaries of these programs and witness the educational immersion of the foundation’s staff with the community members.

It was a very fulfilling experience. I had the pleasure of being with a jolly company and the opportunity of setting foot on another part of our province. This is when we say we become tourists in our own place. One of the secret wonders of our mountain ranges is that there’s always someplace new to set foot on. Just when you think you’ve seen it all, there sprawl thousands of rambling acres that are yet to be explored and enjoyed. I could brave hours and hours of a bumpy ride if it means looking at the endless lush and greens of our mountains.

Mr. Basilio animatedly retelling his ‘benefit dance stories’ during his youthful years.

I look forward to going back to the place and this time around, it’s to help pick the mangoes come summertime. (Arianne, *wink*)

Pinay Diaries: Going Dorothy (There’s No Place Like Home)

It’s been a month. After making that fateful decision of starting a new life away from what I’ve grown accustomed to for more than two years (albeit not comfortably as I would have wanted to), I now find myself smelling like a dog, gaining more than a few unnecessary pounds, being a freeloader under Mama’s roof, and basking in the pressure-less lifestyle of the unemployed.

The ultimate resolution to come home was a choice that was spurred both by circumstances which I don’t have control over on and the personal resolve that I mulled over for countless sleepless nights. But I am not writing this to justify whether I made the better decision or not. I write this for the sole reason to emphasize that nothing will ever come close to the bliss and contentment of being home with your loved ones.

For the past weeks, I’ve occupied myself with spending time with the family. I’ve devoted myself to the idea of making the most of home as I realized how much I have missed the simple yet irreplaceable joys of family and being home.

Each day is met with luxuriating under the covers while the hairs of my ears prickle with the morning chill. Nothing says good morning better than the sound of roosters crowing and the familiar smell of Arabica coffee. The rest of the day is spent juggling hours among trekking, biking, walking the dogs, some house chores, making myself a bit useful in my sister’s shop (though I could only do so much), and struggling to steal internet connection that has drastically been evasive since I came back.

Life back in my hometown has never seemed so busy and exciting. Knowing how easily I tire from routine, I anticipate my butt to start itching probably when I reach the second month mark. But for some reason or reasons, I don’t fear the uncertainty. That of which has always plagued me to my wits’ end before. The uncertainty I’m expecting nowadays has never felt safer. Strange, but yes. I’m welcoming the ambiguity with open arms. This decision has obviously paved me a blank slate so I could start with anything—either it be the most expected next step or a completely unforeseen one. Whatever the next stride would be, I’m sure it’s going to be awesome.

The best thing about being back home is the feeling of security and safety. Being assured that your loved ones have your back, even physically this time, is just priceless. So yes, I’m not saying I’ve closed my doors to the possibilities of life outside my comfort zone. New is good. Change is good. Foreign is good. But not now. Till then, I’ll be very happy filling out my diary pages with how green the hills are, how crazy the dogs can get and how delicious ‘daing’ is especially when you eat it with your bare hands.

I Will Fix My Broken Pen

Confucius said, “Choose a job you love, and you will never have to work a day in your life.” I chose my current job for this main reason but unfortunately such is not the case. I feel deceived.

I realized that when I write just to write, I am happy. But when I write because I am required to, it feels oppressive.

This is seriously breaking my heart. Crumpled papers and broken pens (or make that blinking cursor on an empty page) have become familiar sights recently.

Writers have blocks. But this is not it. This is more like a flare reduced to an ember and then an ember that’s doused with water. Yet I refuse to believe that the passion’s gone. A true love can never be gone.

This is me convincing myself that it may just be the work environment. That the idea of being tied to a chair all day long while you squeeze your brains out for a decent write-up just does not cut it. (Not to mention other unfortunate factors and circumstances that made me break my pen. But that’s another story.)

So yes, I am not contending the great mind behind the adage. Unfortunate, bordering to tragic, circumstances have just blown my writing confidence and passion out of proportion. But like everything else, this too shall pass. This too shall pass.

Happiness is…

“Happiness is a warm puppy.

You and me, and babies so furry.”

Artwork: Neyruz Abu Jamra (http://neyruz.com/)

Copy: Wendy Brett

Him, Me, Byte, Bark and Oleg/Boris/Putin

A Probinsiyana’s UPCAT Story

Dear Ole 'Oble' (lifted from the UPFI page) — Dear Ole ‘Oble’ (lifted from the UPFI page)

This year, approximately 85,000 to 88,000 hopefuls took the University of the Philippines College Admission Test. Though an alumna, I still find the numbers overwhelming. That is to take into consideration that a couple and then some years ago, I took the same exam without the foggiest idea that thousands after thousands try to get into the country’s premier state university yearly. I did not know who Oble was much less the existence of the word oblation. I was that clueless ~~and ignorant~~.

Coming from a town where it was more or less a given that high school graduates either go to the nearest city or the province’s capital for college, I somehow expected the country’s Summer Capital to be my next home for the next four years or so. So three or four months before graduation, all these universities and colleges visited public and private high schools to bait new fish into their institutions. Those that required college admission tests even went as far as to bring the exams to a common testing center in the province, to save us from taking the six-hour bus ride to the city just for this.

I never really had clear plans for college. All I knew was that I’d probably enroll in a good university and take up Nursing because that was what my mother said. And I was cool with that.

I loved school. Strange as it may sound but I loved doing home works and reports and exams. But at the same time, I took every opportunity to get a break from school. If taking college exams meant a very valid excuse to be off school, I took all those exams. UPCAT included.

So yes, I took UPCAT for the sole reason that I wanted to have a day off school. That was how much of a numb skull I was with regards to making decisions for college. I was so clueless about the opportunities, growth, and edge an Isko will have with UP being the final step before starting in the real world. Some even enroll in review classes purposefully for the test, which I came to learn later on. Kumbaga sa Hunger Games, sila yung careers. And there I was who only saw the exam as a means to skip classes. But I guess all the ancient gods and demi-gods of my tribe smiled down on me that day. And yes, I probably paid attention in most of my subjects. That too.

That was basically how I underwent UPCAT. Armed with sheer confidence (or not), two packs of Nagaraya, and the bliss of skipping school that day, I leisurely took the exam and shaded those boxes without any pressure, and noticing every now and then that the proctor was cute. After the long hours, I was just so glad to get out from the testing rooms and was excited about my next meal. I remember it was raining that time and it was hard getting a pedicab ride to the eateries so my classmates and I crowded around this sari-sari store near the school instead. It was chi-chiria and soft drinks galore till we had to take the last jeep back home. It was a well-spent day away from school and I never really thought about the test after that.

The school year was about to end. Everyone had decided where to enroll to already. My mind was 70% made up that I will take veterinary medicine in another state university. Then it was summer. Someone said I made it. I was cynical as I never received any mails (we live in the mountains hence maybe the delay). Days passed and there was still no letter to confirm so I went to one of the few internet shops in town just to check, (again, we live in the mountains and the internet access back then was close to nil). I checked my name and there it was. I was happy. But my mother was happier.

So yes, from Nursing to DVM to being a bona fide Iska at University of the Philippines-Diliman’s College of Mass Communication, that’s how it went.

A couple and then some years later, I still proudly wear my University shirts, I follow UAAP updates, rejoice and cry with the

Maroons, I subscribe to every UP page on Facebook and hope to someday see my kids study in the same school. I would maybe encourage them to review and thoroughly prepare so they could get in as Oblation scholars (ambisyosa lang, haha) and not just pass the qualifying exam by a hair’s breadth like their mother.

To those who will soon be sharing their UPCAT stories, hoping the odds were in your favor during the test and that such will still be the case for the bigger test after–once you become an Isko or an Iska.

Experience the Ultimate Jamaican Vibe at Ysagada Downtown Bistro

Le Bob; the reggae icon who has tremendously influenced the locals' music preference. — Le Bob; the reggae icon who has tremendously influenced the locals’ music preference.

Your Sagada experience will not be complete if you don’t dedicate some hours getting lost in the Jamaican vibe that the locals are particularly fond of. The legendary Marley’s reggae influence has found home in this rustic tourist town.

The new place in town is Ysagada Downtown Bistro. Formerly, “Kusina Ysagada”, YSAGADA has undergone a major revamp by converting the cafe into a bistro that embraces you with a reggae ambience.

Simplistic, chill and cozy-homey. Enjoy good food and refreshing drinks at the town’s coolest reggae hangout. We are located at Dao-angan, Sagada near Ayeona Souvenirs and George’s Guesthouse. A ten-minute leisure walk from the town center, Dao-angan is the new prime spot in town.

As a plus, get to meet the town’s local artist, Mr. James Gabriel Wandag who co-owns and manages the place with wife Antonette. James is the talent behind majority of the famous Sagada artistic and statement shirts. If you get lucky, you can have your own shirt or any artwork customized to your own liking.