Life lessons

IN the past few days, Big Sister and I, as well as a niece, have been doing guard duty at the hospital where Mama has been confined due to a liver ailment that has caused her to turn yellow.

We consider ourselves still fortunate that despite her age of 84, Mama is still a sprightly old gal who dictates her own terms on life. Given that she acts her usual gregarious self even in the hospital, one could easily mistake her to be well, especially if you don’t look at her complexion too closely.

In fact, as we were waiting in the emergency room on Sunday for a hospital room to open up so she could move in, a fellow patient commented to me, “’Yung pasyente mo nagli-lipstick pa!” Mama had just finished eating her favorite mamon and had her compact before her as she gingerly applied color on her lips. The other patient, who had been complaining of a tummy ache all this time, was visibly entertained and at the same time incredulous at the sight before her.

Since I’ve been used to Mama acting this way in public spaces (and I must confess, I may have inherited the same mannerism), it was nothing extraordinary to me. But I suppose to other people this wasn’t normal behavior, especially for a senior citizen. All I could say to the other patient in reply was: “S’yempre naman. ’Di porket nasa ospital ka, pwedeng pangit ka na. E paano kung gwapo ’yung doktor n’ya? Dapat maganda s’ya at ready for anything.” The other patient giggled.

But this is one of the major lessons that Mama has imparted to me and my other siblings. We always need to be properly dressed and made-up anywhere we go. I’ve taken this to heart and to this day, I never leave the house without putting on at least some lipstick and eyeliner. One of Mama’s more famous but funny teachings is “to never go out with a butas na panty. What if you slip and fall? The entire world will see your puwet!” Or, “What if you get rushed to the hospital? Your doctors will see your old panty! Nakakahiya!”

Also, she always stresses that being appropriately attired speaks of your upbringing and your family background. What you wear and how you act in public is a reflection on your parents and your family. “Ano na lang ang sasabihin ng mga tao? Aarte ka ng ganyan tapos anak ka ni ganito or some famous person? What will the people say about how your parents raised you?”

My Mama is still somewhat old school in terms of being prim and proper, and trying to live a life of respectability. But she does have a liberal streak and a modern outlook on life, unlike her fellow seniors.

While she is generally outspoken with her views, she doesn’t pass judgement on a person’s religious beliefs, morals (or the lack of it), and lifestyle choices. In fact, I’ve always said that Mama would have been the perfect mom for any budding bading.

What does intensely ruffle her feathers are, without fail, the Japanese. I can’t blame her really, as she as a 13-year-old along with her younger cousins were almost shot to death during World War II by Japanese soldiers fleeing from the arriving Americans.

No matter how many times I tell her that I’ve met so many nice Japanese and that Japan is such a gorgeous and fascinating country, I cannot convince her to change her mind about the Land of the Rising Sun. (The only time she thinks about the Japanese in friendlier terms is when she goes to Muji or Saizen to shop. She hasn’t visited Uniqlo yet, so let’s see if that makes her let her guard down further, hahaha.)

Unlike my father, Mama hasn’t really been hospitalized for any illness except when she had to give birth. And even then, she didn’t spend more than two days in the hospital as she delivered all four us siblings naturally. The only time she had to go to the hospital was when either one of us kids or Pop had a medical condition that needed surgery.

But this is really the first time that Mama is in the hospital as a patient. So for someone who is used to going to the malls, or having lunches with her amigas, or playing mahjong with her buddies, lying in a hospital bed is extreme torture for her.

For the most part, we take turns in entertaining her as she is extremely upset that she doesn’t have her regular ANC programming on the cable TV service the hospital subscribes to.

We hope her condition improves immediately after she undergoes a medical procedure for her ailment. As I listen to her crabbing about her ridiculously bland hospital food incessantly while I’m writing this, I can’t help but be amused that despite this experience, she still has kept her spirits up.

Nothing defeats her. She is one awesome woman.

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I’d like to extend my sincerest condolences to the family and friends of Rep. Salvador “Sonny” Escudero III, who recently passed away after a two-year bout with cancer.

I met Escudero when he was reappointed agriculture secretary during the time of President Fidel V. Ramos. Escudero was a kind man...smart, witty and definitely knew his stuff. Trained as a veterinarian, he was one of the very competent and professional government officials I knew.

As a member of the infamous Karambolistas on DWIZ, Escudero was typically the voice of reason and calm amid the often loud (and hilarious) opinions of the rest of gang.

Despite his slight stature, Escudero was a real giant of a man, and he served his country well. Thank you, sir, for all the good work you’ve done.

(My column, Something Like Life, is published every Friday in the Life section of the BusinessMirror. This piece was originally published on Aug. 17, 2012.)

Raising happy, healthy, well-balanced kids

(Conclusion of my two-part series on 'When parents are away')

(Rowie Mattie, Fides Reyes and Maribel Dionisio at the recent book launch of Maribel’s Teen Crush. Photo courtesy Family Congress)

THE family is the most basic social unit in any society. Having a healthy, happy family should therefore be the goal of every human being. To build strong ties within your family, you need to spend quality time with each other, and really listen to what your partner or your kids are saying.

Continuing from last week, I asked Maribel Dionisio, founder of the Love Institute, and Rowie Matti, CEO of the Galileo Enrichment Learning Program Inc., how it was possible to raise happy, healthy and well-balanced kids, especially since often both parents these days are working and the kids are left in the care of nannies or, worse, alone at home to fend for themselves.

Aside from going out on “dates” with their kids, or having weekly chats at home, parents should build their child’s self-worth by being their “cheerleader,” says Maribel. Parents should acknowledge their child’s positive action “no matter how small the contribution,” and laud their efforts as much as the results.

She adds that listening to the child without judgment is very important. “No blaming, shouting, put-downs and criticisms—these will just cut communication lines.”

She underscores the necessity of “disciplining with love,” having age-appropriate house rules which should be “implement[ed] with kindness and firmness. If rules are not followed, then let them experience the consequence of their actions. No spanking or no punishments; just use natural and logical consequences. For example, if the child messes up his toys and does not put them away, then the parent must explain the consequence—his toys can get lost or can get broken, and the parent will not buy new ones.”

Maribel stresses that the key to having happy children is happy parents. Couples need to enhance their relationship by going on a date once a week. For single parents, they can go out with their friends.

In the wake of the rising number of teen mothers, as reported by the National Statistics Office (one in 10 mothers were teens as of 2009), I also brought up the subject of premarital sex and how parents should handle this subject. Should parents talk to their children about reproductive health and how to protect themselves against sexually transmitted diseases or pregnancy?

Rowie says parents need to be ready to answer their children’s questions about sex. “When they are younger, parents can give them technical answers. But as they get older, the answers of parents should be smarter.” She adds, if the kid doesn’t ask parents about sex, the latter should be ready to talk to their kids about the reproductive system (menstruation, circumcision, masturbation, sexual intercourse) when the kids are in Grade 4 (about 10-11 years old). This is the grade when local schools start tackling the subject.

“It is also important to talk to them about values at this time. Parents should tell their kids that there should be no sex before marriage and the reason why they should wait until after marriage,” she points out.

Maribel is also adamantly against premarital sex “since it can make you believe that your partner is a beautiful person, when in fact it is sex that is a beautiful experience. Besides we do not marry for sex but for companionship and love. Great sex before marriage does not guarantee a great friendship. But a great friendship developed before marriage without premarital sex significantly increases the chances of marital happiness.”

Parents must explain to their kids the value of postponing sex until marriage, so “automatically no sex before marriage prevents pregnancy and STD.”

This and other parenting topics will be tackled in the forthcoming Family Congress to be held on August 25, at the Valle Verde Country Club, organized by Maribel, Rowie and their friend Fides Reyes, an events planner for families. The three got together early last year because of an advocacy—they all believed in the importance of the family. To have a happy family, parents and their kids should constantly work at their relationships with each other.

The Family Congress aims to help, support and teach parents, singles and every member of the family on how to communicate, interact and understand one another. It aims to reaffirm the value and relevance of the Filipino family in the face of changing times. For inquiries about the Family Congress, e-mail familycongress@gmail.com. You may also call the Love Institute at 436-4143 or 0922-8944143, or Galileo Enrichment Center at 810-8506.

Through this event, Maribel, Rowie, and Fides hope to increase the awareness of families about the various skills they need to learn to have an awesome family life. They plan to bring this Family Congress to different parts of the country and reach 1,000 parents at a time.
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MY deepest condolences to the Quizon family on the passing of their patriarch, Rodolfo V. Quizon. Thank you Mang Dolphy for giving the best years of your life to us, your fans. We will forever be grateful.

(My column, Something Like Life, is published every Friday, in the Life section of the BusinessMirror. This piece was originally published on July 13, 2012.)

When parents are away

LIKE many in my age group, during our time, my father was the breadwinner of the family, and my mother (like my grandmother, her mom) was at home taking care of us, the kids.

Despite having someone directly rearing us, patiently teaching us values and how to cope in the real world, my siblings and I still didn’t turn out a hundred percent “good kids,” as they say. My eldest brother M, for instance, had his frequent brushes with drugs and rehab, which Mama had to attend to, leaving the rest of us fending for ourselves, or like in my case, clinging to my lola’s skirts.

If it was difficult then to raise kids amid the excesses of the ’60s and the ’70s, I wonder how parents cope these days. Most families have both parents out of the house working, and the kids are usually left alone with the househelp or some glorified yaya.

With this in mind, I recently interviewed family and relationship expert Maribel Dionisio and educator Rowie Matti about issues plaguing families these days.

Rowie believes “it is not impossible to raise well-balanced and very good children even if both parents are working. The parents should make time to plan and agree on how to raise their children well. They have to set their priorities. They have to set rules and stick to it. They should make sure that there is a parent available to attend all-important milestones in the child’s life, like school events that require the parent’s presence. Any free time you have from work should be spent with them.”

Echoing this, Maribel says parents can schedule “one-on-one” dates with each of their kids on weekends, “at least once a week or twice a month to create connections and to get to know each child. On a P20- or P50-budget, Dad and Child No.1 will go out and have a date, that is talk and eat even for just 30 to 60 minutes. Mom will go have a date with Child No. 2. Then they exchange children. It is easier to get to know each child this way even if you are working parents.”

Of course, it helps to have some “good” househelp or nannies around (a challenge to find one these days, to be sure), but Rowie stresses, “Make sure that you get people who have the same values and beliefs as you. Their job description should be very clear. They should know their limits. They cannot take the place of the parents.”

Maribel also encourages the use of technology to help parents maintain their connection and bond with their kids. They can Skype, text or call their kids on the cell phone, or use Internet messenger tools to chat during the weekday. “But parents need to prioritize their children, especially if they are below 12 years old, since this is the formative stage when a child is most open to be shaped according to the values you want to instill. So parents should simplify their lifestyle to make time for bonding.”

Unfortunately, even with good parenting, there are cases when kids just end up, well, problematic. They fall in with the wrong crowd, and get into all sorts of trouble or vices. Worse, they become drug-dependent or alcoholic, and may need some intervention.

Maribel sees a problem child as someone longing for attention. To solve that, parents have to spend more one-on-one time with the child, especially if he is below 12 years old. If he is a teenager, “the parent may need the help of a psychologist or family counselor to find out the root of the problem. If the child is on drugs, then the child needs to be seen by a mental health professional, or a toxicologist or a psychiatrist for treatment.” She also advises the entire family “to go to a family counselor or psychologist to prevent the recurrence of the drug problem once it is treated.”

The earlier the parent intervenes once he or she notices the “negative behavior” in the child, the better for the family, says Rowie.

Aside from spending time to talk to the “problem child,” parents should “set some house rules. Expectations should be set. They should know the punishment if they are not able to follow.” But she says that parents should refrain from physical punishment.

“Parents should be fair and consistent. They should recognize the positive action [of the child]. Parents should give feedback constantly so that the child will know if what he is doing is right or wrong,” Rowie adds.

And, yes, if parents are unsuccessful in changing the “negative behavior” of their child, by all means, seek help from a child psychologist. These days, there is nothing wrong with seeking external help or counseling from a professional.

Maribel further explains that a child is brought to a psychiatrist “when medications are necessary for the child’s emotional or mental condition like depression or bipolar [disorder].” On the other hand, a child psychologist or family counselor is someone who can talk to the child about his behavioral problems. “So for drug addiction, a psychiatrist needs to see the child,” so he is able to prescribe the proper medication.

Rowie believes that while the kids are young, the greatest gift parents can give them is a “positive attitude toward life.” She quotes Dr. Jane Nelsen, a well-known marriage, family and child counselor as well as an exponent on the power of “Positive Discipline”, on “seven ways busy parents can help their children feel special:

• Parents should make time to hug your child.

• Hold a weekly family meeting. Make time to listen to everyone.

• Ask help from your children. They like to feel important.

• Spend regularly scheduled, special time.

• Share sad and happy times as part of the bedtime routine.

• Take a few seconds to write a note for your child’s lunch bag, pillow or mirror.

• When you run a short errand in the car, ask one of your children to ride along.”

Rowie explains, it is inevitable that both parents have to work these days. “The good news is that more and more companies are giving emphasis on work-life balance; they are more flexible on work schedules that make it easier for both parents to work. Parents should also consider other options like working from home, having a flexible time schedule, or just getting a part-time job. Parents should not feel that both of them have to work without exploring other options available in today’s work place.”

More advice on raising kids from Maribel and Rowie, in my column, next Friday.

(My column Something Like Life, is published every Friday, in the Life section of the BusinessMirror. This piece was originally published on July 6, 2012.)

Are we nurturing a generation of pussies and wusses?

IF you’re a cooking-show addict like I am, I’m pretty sure you’ve been glued to your TV screens lately watching Junior MasterChef Australia.

More than the amazing culinary creations these group of seriously kick-ass kids have been able to whip up, I also watch with amusement at how the four judges try not to crush the little spirits of those cute kids, even though they are possibly choking on the dishes served!

I keep half-hoping that one of the judges would actually call out a terrible dish for what it really is (a la Chef Gordon Ramsay in Kitchen Nightmares), instead of just saying, for instance, “wonderful presentation!” or “good job”, without even explaining why it is so. You can certainly tell how the judges actually feel about the dishes because they effusively praise the ones they do enjoy.

But they’re kids, you say. You cannot make them feel bad about themselves, so you can’t tell them their dishes stink. But being diplomatic doesn’t mean one should lie to them, because that’s not how it works in the real world. Bosses will actually tell you your work sucks, and you need to revise it, and will not sugarcoat it in so many words.

So why tippity-toe around the truth when it comes to children? I’ve always believed that we owe it to the younger generations to prepare them for their future, which certainly isn’t about lollipops and sugar-plum fairies.

These days, parents and even teachers always seem too preoccupied about not hurting their children’s self-esteem. There is too much positive encouragement and reassurances, but not enough of the plain truth, however negative it may be.

Back in the day, even in nursery school or kindergarten, we either got a star (if we aced a project that day) or not. If we didn’t get it, then we tried harder in the next project to get one. These days, the kids are all given stars just for their effort alone. What kind of message are teachers sending their kids? That they are doing great even when, say, they don’t get their alphabet right or are not counting numbers 1 to 10 correctly?

It’s not that I’m trying to channel the heavily criticized Amy Chua, the Filipino-Chinese-American author of the controversial Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother, and advocate calling children “garbage” if they don’t do their homework or projects well. It’s just that I think many parents and teachers have gone too soft on the kids. Telling them to “try your best” instead of “you can do it better than everyone else,” and you end up with two different types of kids.

In the former, a child doesn’t become goal-oriented, and instead condemns them to an eternal life of excuses, e.g., “I tried my best.” In the second, a parent infuses the child with confidence, that he can beat the odds put against him. I think the latter kind of attitude-formation toward work or play makes the child strive more to be successful. After all, in the real world, results count. Employees are rewarded for their output, not for “trying their best.” It’s a cold harsh fact, and overprotecting one’s kids from that kind of reality is preparing them for a life of fantasy. (Just look at all the crazed contestants on American Idol, hahaha.)

While parents don’t need to go overboard and apply the Chinese mothers’ prescription for nurturing their kids (study, study, study!), there has to be a return to tough discipline—the kind that made our parents and grandparents all strong and resilient in the face of extreme challenges like, yes, the Japanese Occupation! I wonder if kids these days would be able to be withstand their car breaking down in the middle of Edsa without throwing a hissy fit.

If he isn’t doing well in his school work, then drill him ’til he gets it right, no matter how long it takes. It’s a way of teaching the kid not to give up, and letting him experience the satisfaction of success when he does get it.

There must be a return to plain honesty as well. If a child isn’t good enough to be a ballet dancer, or a singer, then tell them and interest them in some other hobby perhaps. Either way, parents need to buckle up and prepare their kids for the real world.

(My column, Something Like Life, is published every Friday in the Life section of the BusinessMirror. This piece was published on Feb. 25, 2011. Photo from www.dreamstime.com)

Scarred for life

I was 4 years old when Apollo 11 landed on the moon. All I remember is my parents boasting to all their friends that I could say the names of the three astronauts. (Ahem, Neil Armstrong, Buzz Aldrin, Michael Collins.) This 'torture' happened over and over again every time we had guests at home. Yes, Apollo 11 has scarred me for life. Gimme a f***ing therapist now!

The restored video of the first lunar landing/moonwalk:



(More video footage from NASA here and moon photos via CNET.)

And why many conspiracy theorists think it's a hoax:



Now, about that mission to Mars, guys...in this economy? You gotta be kidding.

It's late, do you know where your kids are?

All I know is that alcohol, plus raging testosterones, make quite the lethal combination. So I am curious why the homeowners’ associations who oversee these exclusive villages’ clubhouses allow alcoholic beverages during these open parties? The law is pretty clear—alcohol should not be served to minors, meaning those 18 years old and below.

Let’s not get cute here, parents, and reminisce about sowing one’s wild oats. Should we just allow the kids to booze up and screw every guy or girl they like? (My thoughts on the Celine Piezas story.)

More from Mrs. Piezas in this Friday's column in BusinessMirror.

When did we become afraid?

Something Like Life
Nov. 21, 2008

Until about our late 30s, especially for women, I think, most of us still thrive on some amount of adventure. We’re unafraid of taking risks with our lives, challenging ourselves to overcome certain physical or emotional limitations placed before us....Then we hit 40 or 50. And, suddenly, taking chances is no longer that palatable.

(Read the rest of my column in the BusinessMirror.)

Brothers, sisters, children

Familial reflection. The cast of the compulsively watchable and thoroughly affecting Brothers & Sisters, the US series seen on local TV that holds up a mirror on the highs and lows of life with brothers, sisters, parents and children.


Something Like Life
Dec. 28, 2007

OVER the Christmas holidays, in between the massive gorging on roast turkey and stuffing, spaghetti, lengua con setas, fruit salad and the subsequent leftovers (love it!), I found myself seriously hooked on watching the first season of Brothers & Sisters. It got so bad that I almost went on leave for this Friday’s column just so that I could finish watching the DVD.

But as I watched more and more of it, and laughed at all the antics of the amusing, yet gritty, characters in this lovely TV series, and also got my heartstrings tugged while seeing each of them go through the pain and agony of discovering upsetting realities in their relationships with one another and those outside their family, I ended up thinking the show was actually a good topic to write about as we go into the New Year.

For those who still haven’t started watching this series (it airs weekly on Studio 23 and on Star World on SkyCable), Brothers & Sisters is a story of the rambunctious Walker family, headed by Nora (brilliantly played by veteran actress Sally Field), who has just lost her husband William (Tom Skeritt) to a heart attack. In this family are her five very mixed-up adult children who include a working mom having marriage problems with her husband (Rachel Griffiths); a bleeding-heart Republican (Calista Flockhart) sleeping with her just-divorced senator-boss (Rob Lowe); a son shooting blanks (Balthazar Getty) who’s asked his brothers to donate their sperm; a commitment-phobic gay lawyer (Matthew Rhys) dating a soap-opera actor who doesn’t want to come out of the closet; and a recovering drug addict (Dave Annable) who’s a veteran of the war in Afghanistan. Sounds like great TV, right?

Well, it gets better. Nora finally meets Holly (Patricia Wettig), William’s mistress of two decades whom she has actually known about for years and outs her at a family party, much to the shock of her children, who thought she knew nothing of the affair. To make matters worst, William actually fathered a child, Rebecca (Emily VanCamp), with Holly, and three of Nora’s children including her brother Saul (Ron Rifkin), are conspiring to keep her from knowing this truth as well. Oh, and did I mention that Saul is dating Holly? Such supersweet sordid stuff!

There is no question that this family is out of whack, like most families we know I suppose. We are formed by our relationships and experiences within our own dysfunctional families, which eventually impacts the way we react to situations or relate to the people around us.

While the initial episodes seemed convoluted because of its multiple plots, the TV series has evolved into a witty and intelligent piece of writing. It’s pure soap opera, only a tad more intelligent. It has touches of Dynasty only with more heart, and sans the flashy clothes. (Nora and Holly’s kitchen fight scene, it should be said, doesn’t hold up a candle to Krystle and Alexis slugging it out in the water fountain.) With its characters now well-defined by their own inner strengths and vulnerabilities, one cannot help but be taken by this show. The stories are familiar yet annoying, because it mirrors a lot of our own experiences.

Who can’t relate to the emotional turmoil one feels when he or she finds out that their father actually is no saint? Or the confusion over falling in love with the wrong people constantly? Or even having a mother who says the wrong things at the wrong time. (At the hospital just this week, as she was getting her blood pressure checked at the ER, my mother chatted up a diabetic who was eventually admitted. In true un-PC fashion, my mother tried to wish her well by blurting, “I hope nothing happens to you!” Good Lord! Let the ground swallow me up now!)

Despite the myriad of characters in the series, each one is allowed to develop and shine in one episode after the other. All the roles are superbly filled by some of Hollywood’s often underrated actors. Well, except for Flockhart. She still acts and sounds like the ludicrous Ally McBeal in this new series, minus the imaginary dancing baby. Nope, no Emmys or Golden Globes for her, that’s for sure.

The series also tries to tackle current issues, such as the rise of juvenile diabetes (working mom Sarah and husband Joe discover their young daughter Paige has the condition after she falls into a coma) and teaches how the life-long affliction can be ably managed. The writing has become tighter despite the many roles that have to be acted out and the various topics tackled.

As I kept watching each episode, I often snickered at how I found myself in some of the characters’ often outrageous behavior, especially when it comes to relating to one’s significant other. It was also entertaining to watch how the Walker siblings relate to one another in the same oddball way as I relate to my own, although my siblings and I aren’t the type to actually share secrets with one another like the Walkers often do.

In a similar fashion as the Walkers, while we may have a family to lean on especially during moments of weakness and vulnerability, individually we each have to come to terms with our own emotional baggage in order to preserve—or, at worst, let go of—our bonds with our siblings, parents, friends and lovers.

As 2008 approaches and I start counting my blessings, what I am most thankful for is having a family that’s tough and fired up with an indomitable spirit. We are bound not only by our common grief over loved ones lost, but also because we’ve actually dealt with our own insanities and self-preservation issues to be able to handle one another on a less hysterical level.

I suppose they call it emotional maturity… when we accept that we can no longer change our parents or siblings just to become some postcard-perfect family living in a house with a white picket fence.

We come to accept certain truths about one another and let go of the situations that we have no power to change. We realize that it’s all the foibles and imperfections that make us and life with one another more interesting. Like, who wants a mom who says the proper thing each and every time, huh? Boring!

Happy New Year to all!

(My column, Something Like Life, is published every Friday in the Life section of the BusinessMirror. Photos from BusinessMirror)

Ok, so I couldn't resist writing about it either...

Something Like Life
Sept. 7, 2007

BY now, I’m pretty sure all of you have the Malu Fernandez topic coming out of your mouths and ears. Don’t worry, I’m not going to add any more fuel to the fire and endorse any sort of “harpooning” of Ms. Fernandez, even if she did unwittingly ruffle the feathers of close to half of the population of the Philippines and their hundreds of relatives abroad. (Yes, I still give Ms. Fernandez the benefit of the doubt because I think no one in his right mind would deliberately insult another human being in print unless he is begging for a libel case. Of course, if she was channeling shock jock Howard Stern, then what she did was unforgivable.)

What I do want to address, however, are the realities of an overseas Filipino worker’s life, because once upon a time I was one of them, although my colleague Marvic and I would jokingly dub ourselves “expats.” Although I hardly contributed in boosting the country’s gross international reserves because I rarely remitted any monies to my parents here (honey, I needed it more than them), I only had to look at my colleagues and hear their sob stories to realize the difficulties of leaving one’s home and family to try to carve out a bright future they don’t think would ever have in the Philippines.

The opportunity to work in Saipan (the capital of the Northern Marianas, a tiny group of islands south of Guam) came up because of Marvic, who recommended me to her publisher. I was to be business editor of a daily newspaper (actually a community paper by our standards, where a victim of a hit and run could be the day’s biggest headline), and while the job did pay a lot more than I was receiving in my former paper back then, the attraction to me was actually the opportunity to live in another country and mingle with other nationalities. I also thought that Saipan being a mere three hours away from Manila, it wouldn’t make me so homesick, unlike the situation with OFWs who live in the Middle East, Europe or the US. I could always easily come home to Manila even for a weekend. So, actually, I was not your typical expat...er, OFW desperate to earn a higher wage to feed my entire family back home.

The first shock of any OFW upon landing in his new host country is always cultural. There are just too many new ways of behaving and thinking that our kababayans have to get used to. First of all, in a US-style country like the Northern Marianas, you had to follow the traffic rules. No tail-gating, no overtaking, no weaving in and out of traffic.

And while I could get away with wearing Bermuda shorts and a T-shirt to Sunday Mass once in a while, the Chamorros (the locals who live on Saipan) actually encourage churchgoers to don proper church attire, i.e., a modest clothes which do not show off one’s legs, bare arms, or cleavage. I also realized that Filipinos were more Western in thinking than the locals, as I would get flak for being outspoken and frank in discussing issues (although the mainland Americans living on Saipan appreciated the banter). Still, the Chamorros are a generous lot and will always invite anyone to their parties and fiestas, and basically share the good times, which is a trait they share with us Filipinos.

But more than the culture and traditions, I think the biggest shock for most OFWs is the realization that being away from their families means a lot of heartaches. I remember a young colleague, J, who I would always notice to be crying after every phone call with her mother. She told me her mother would always berate her for sending “so little” money for the family’s needs. (She was sending half of her monthly $700 salary, and her mother still thought this was still not enough?! That was close to P18,000 back then!) J was not even the eldest in the family but her mother was now relying on her daughter’s earnings for the family’s needs. J said she had, in fact, other siblings, none of whom were apparently working, and her parents were out of work as well.

As I began speaking to other colleagues and other kababayans over the year I was in Saipan, I realized that quite a number of them had relatives who became virtual mendicants, stopping work and just waiting for the usual monthly remittance. Like J, my heart bled for them because there they were working their asses off under a foreign boss who treated them sometimes rather poorly, and yet their difficulties were not even close to being appreciated by their families back home. Parents didn’t call their OFW children to ask how they were, but rather to ask when their next remittance would arrive. Children didn’t bother to write to their hardworking parents, or send them a card to say how much they were missed, but rather to make sure they were sent the newest PlayStation for their birthdays. I could only nod in understanding when an Ate started narrating her life’s travails.

And for all the “huge” salaries these fellow kababayans are supposed to be earning, their families don’t realize that they are also spending quite a tidy sum living in the host country. Sure, these OFWs are earning in dollars, but they are spending in dollars as well. An example: in Saipan, a Jollibee yumburger with cheese costs about $2 (almost P100 then), when it’s about P40 only here. The horror! A decent restaurant meal for one person, for example, would cost about $12 (P600) when here, the same could be had for probably P300 or less.

Aside from the food, there is also rent to pay (I used to pay about $400, or P20,000, a month for a one-bedroom apartment) and utilities ($150, or P7,500, a month) and clothes. By the end of the month, and after deducting all these “costs of living,” as well as half their salaries for the usual remittance to their families back home, my Ates and Kuyas were left with zilch. It is no wonder a number of them return home almost centavo-less and with very little savings to speak of. We Filipinos are so family-oriented, we rarely deny any requests from our relatives, even though we are already hard-up ourselves.

Some of them also told me that all the while they had been sending money to their spouses back home to put up a little sari-sari store, set up a carinderia, or make some home improvements, they find out that the money had all been spent by their spouses who have become prime candidates for Gamblers Anonymous.

Other than the financial issues, there are social issues that our kababayans have to contend with. A lot of my colleagues, pining away for their spouses or fiancées back home, have affairs with their co-workers. A number of them actually shack up with new lovers even if they have wives or husbands here and 10 children. Kuya D, for example, was already hard-pressed as it is to send money to his wife and children back home, but then he still managed to create a new family in Saipan (a lovely wife and two rambunctious boys). I don’t blame him. It can really get lonely overseas—none of the 120 channels on cable TV nor a thousand bars can ever ease that feeling. (On Saipan the six bars or so close at 10 pm…no wonder I was hardly inebriated while I was there.) On the other hand, if it wasn’t my Ate or Kuya playing around, it would be their spouses here at home doing the nasty.

So every time I would hear these stories from our kababayans, I would get depressed about their ordeal (which, by the way, actually starts at the hellish and very long queues at the POEA), only slowly to be enraged at our government which does very little in boosting economic opportunities here at home. Instead, it chooses to look for more ways to export our precious human capital to other countries, thus helping the latter to prosper. And while the government trumpets the 7.5-percent growth in the economy, I can only wonder if it is worth all the punishing choices our kababayan abroad have to make.

These are just some of the real issues plaguing our OFWs. So even if our kababayans choose to submerge themselves in a vat of Charlie, the incredible sacrifices they have to endure in the name of family and a better future are nothing to be sniffed at.

(My column, Something Like Life, is published every Friday in the Life section of the BusinessMirror. Photo courtesy BusinessMirror)

Surviving the long distance

Something Like Life
June 22, 2007

A FEW days ago, as I was riding a taxi on my way to the Ortigas Center, I was thoroughly entertained by the radio program my cabbie was glued to.

It was one of those programs where the radio hosts try to ring up an overseas Filipino worker and get him reconnected to his long-suffering wife and growing kids here at home.

A few conversations took on an amusing turn like in the case of one OFW whose boss, in his barely understandable English (think Yilmaz Bektas), kept on saying that his employee was “Not here! Not here!” before launching into what sounded like a diatribe against the radio host-caller, berating him for disturbing his work.

There were a few moments of joyous telecommunication bonding, with wives and kids happy to finally hear their padre de familia’s voice, before the call degenerated into castigations for not calling his family or sending any money, while they were left wondering whether he was still alive or dead. Talk about reality radio!

Some cases of adultery were discussed by the hosts like these were a matter of fact, just part and parcel of an OFW family’s life. It can go both ways—the spouse who left a humble existence finds someone else, usually a fellow lonely kababayan also away from her family, in a strange land in the sweltering heat, just trying to survive from paycheck to paycheck; or the spouse left at home, trying to keep the family sanely together with the little money her husband wires back, missing her partner and finding some comfort in another’s arms.

According to the National Statistics Office, there was an estimated 1.52 million Filipinos working overseas last year. Imagine how much emotional torment has to be weathered by our kababayans just so they’re able to put three square meals a day on their family’s dining table while paying for household rent and other basic necessities, as well as sending their kids to school here at home.

It isn’t easy trying to keep the home fires burning when spouses live miles and miles apart from each other. The matter is made even more complicated by poverty, by curious children asking where their absent parent had gone, by creeping loneliness and, yes, by sexual temptations.

I’ve never been a great believer in long-distance relationships. I think the bond between couples, no matter how strong at the beginning, will slowly unravel as the individual needs of each partner increase. Aside from the usual loneliness, there are frequent bouts of homesickness on the part of the spouse who is away, and gnawing suspicions and paranoia on what his partner is doing to amuse herself in his absence, and vice versa. And growing apart is all too common. There may still be love between the couple, but somehow they can no longer relate to each other’s experiences while they both exist in different worlds.

Given that, couples may still find ways to weather the long years apart and the sea of separation. Perhaps, all is needed is a firm commitment to each other’s happiness and well-being (and hundreds of dollars worth of prepaid phone cards!).

Seriously, sometimes it can just boil down to constant communication. Before the OFW leaves home, he and his spouse must agree to give each other regular updates of the goings-on in their respective lives, and activities of the other family members. Agree on the frequency of the phone call—will it be daily? Every other day? Once a week? And what time should the spouse here at home expect the phone to ring?

If you are the spouse who is away, try not to miss placing that phone call! You have to have a pretty good reason not to call...like your truck ran over a masked Fatah escapee while driving for your new Hamas boss.

If you are the spouse left here at home, also understand that there are frequent demands on your partner’s time by his bosses, so if he does miss a call, it doesn’t mean he has been kidnapped by an Iraqi insurgent, or—worse—fallen in love with a Pinay nurse at some hospital near his place of work. So try to be flexible when it comes to communication.

Like if phone calls are expensive, try texting. The Philippines is not known as the text capital of the world for nothing! Use your inherent SMS skills as a means to convey your thoughts about your work and your other daily happenings. So even while at work, your spouse will constantly be updated about you and the kids.

Make the most of your telecommunication time. Talk about yourselves, your feelings for each other, the kids, their schooling and their cute activities. Don’t spend the entire time ragging on your spouse for missing the last phone call or remitting the household budget two weeks late. It’s bad enough that he has to be away from you, his family, to work. Don’t add to the pressure by burying him in guilt and regret.

With the Internet becoming more and more accessible in the country, sending emails to family members abroad is becoming a cinch. But do not—I repeat, do not!—send those irritating forwarded e-mails of stupid jokes or Catholic guilt-trips via prayer chain letters! Use the Internet to tell your husband how terribly you miss him, or to send a nice photo of you and the kids that will wrench his heart and, hopefully, make him send your $500 faster than you can say Osama bin Laden. (I just love Flickr! You can post an entire album-worth of photos and your relatives abroad really appreciate it.)

Send little gifts to each other. It’s amazing how so many online stores have sprung up over the last decade, making it possible for families separated by geography to spring a surprise on one another during important occasions. All one needs is a credit card, which many banks and credit-card companies are virtually just giving away these days.

For those less affluent, you may send little items via snail mail. Sure, you run the risk of the gift getting lost or stolen while in transit to your sweetheart (from experience, I’m pretty sure the pilferage will occur here in the Philippines than anywhere else), so don’t send a five-carat diamond ring! Besides, meaningful gifts need not be expensive. What’s important is the sweet romantic thoughts that go with it.

And to those who have left to work overseas, please come home. Even if it’s for a short two-week vacation or a just a month, try to visit your family at least every year. Sure, a plane ticket cost a lot and sometimes the itinerant spouse chooses to postpone his visit in order to save more money to send home. But for all the financial surplus you will have, it will not mean a lot if you keep missing out on your wife’s cariño, or not seeing your kids grapple with binomials and polynomials. Better yet, let your family visit you so they will be familiar with the places and events you keep talking about in your mail.

The amazing innovations of modern communication may ease some of the loneliness of being away from your partner and your family, but these can never replace the caress of your wife’s hand on your face, or the constant tug of your five-year-old on your sleeve, and the laughter all of you will share when you are together.

Of course, I can’t guarantee that all these suggestions will work for everyone. But perhaps it’s a start. And for all my irreverence, I realize the agony experienced by separated families can hardly be eased by a Hallmark greeting card. But maybe what all families need to look at also is the bright future ahead to make the pain of separation hopefully less traumatic and depressing.

(My column, Something Like Life, is published every Friday in the Life section of the BusinessMirror, which was recently recognized by the Rotary Club of Manila as the National Newspaper of the Year in its 2006 Journalism Awards. Photo from BusinessMirror)

A mother-daughter relationship in perspective

Something Like Life
May 18, 2007

ON Mother’s Day, we were treated to what was perhaps the most spectacular outburst ever made in Philippine showbiz history. Those immortal words uttered by the still unparalleled stage mother of all stage mothers, Annabel Rama, were truly unforgettable and will likely be the gold standard by which all other stage mothers will have to measure themselves. With tears streaming down her face, facial tissue in hand, Annabel—in her trademark Waray-accented Tagalog — implored her celebrity daughter Ruffa Gutierrez on national TV: “Kung gusto mo akong matigok, pumunta ka sa Maldives. Kung gusto mo pa ako mabuhay ng matagal, mag-stay ka sa akin. [If you want me to die, go to Maldives. If you want me to live long, stay with me].”

Emotional blackmail? It sure sounded like it. What kind of mother would directly sabotage her child’s efforts at making a marriage work by saying that she would keel over if the child left her side? To those who missed another stirring performance by the one-time showbiz starlet, Annabel last Sunday was interviewed by a fumbling, verbally challenged Pia Guanio on the state of Ruffa’s marriage to Turkish businessman Yilmaz Bektas. Annabel was trying to prevent Ruffa from going on a vacation with her estranged husband where they were supposed to work out their troubled marriage.

Of course, everybody suspects ulterior motives on Annabel’s part as she tried to put herself between her daughter and a son-in-law whom she admits to have grown to love. Was she trying to force Ruffa—virtually incoherent on another channel, with tears as big as the diamond earrings she wore—to give up on her marriage to Bektas, and resume her very profitable showbiz career? In turn, Annabel would reassume the role as her daughter’s manager and thereby reap the benefits that she had to forgo for seven years? Wasn’t this woman content with the earnings she was receiving from managing the acting careers of her handsome twins?

But for anyone who has ever been a mother, and who has sacrificed so much for her children, and gone to great lengths to keep her family afloat, Annabel’s outburst was quite understandable.

Sure, the accusations from some quarters about her being “materialistic” could be true in part, but Annabel can never be blamed for trying to look after her children’s welfare. And for someone who never had real acting talent herself, Annabel has actually been pulling off what is probably the greatest performance of her life for the past decades—being the strong foundation and guiding light of the Gutierrez family. She has singlehandedly built up her children’s careers despite the fact that some of them probably don’t even have the real goods to justify their huge talent fees.

More than Annabel’s OA threats of dying prematurely, it is perhaps due to those reasons cited above that the well-poised and polished Ruffa decided to stay with her mom and turn her back on her husband. Ruffa was reported to have expressed her continuing love for Bektas, despite the rumors of physical abuse, and to which Annabel herself hinted at. And what kind of mother would she be if she didn’t try to put an end to her daughter’s suffering? “Gabi-gabi ’yan, tumatawag sa akin umiiyak [Every night she would call me crying],” was how Annabel succinctly described the condition of her daughter’s marriage.

Despite all her instincts that her daughter’s union with the English-challenged businessman with a doubtful background was headed straight for the rocks, Annabel, to her credit, allowed the marriage to push through. She perhaps realized how much her daughter was in love with her Turkish Prince Charming, so much so that Ruffa even converted to the Islam faith. Besides, she knew that Ruffa would have the material comforts that the latter could never have, and all her child was to do was sit pretty beside her “Lovee” and bear his children. It may be argued as well that this marriage could have been Ruffa’s way of struggling out of her mother’s firm grip, although we don’t know much of what goes on 24/7 in the Gutierrez household to safely conclude that.

But, surely, Annabel didn’t want her own daughter to experience the hardships that she herself suffered, selling pots and pans to her neighbors while living in the US, just to put decent meals on their dining table. And while Ruffa is indeed beautiful, statuesque and articulate, Annabel knew that an entertainer’s life is harsh, and fame all too fleeting. Just look at what happened to her husband. Naku, mahirap, ’dong!

So with Annabel’s blessing, for seven years, Ruffa did get to live out every young girl’s fantasy of being fabulously married to a handsome rich husband, living in a palatial home and giving birth to bundles of sweet joyful children. Unfortunately, it soon became apparent that the white picket fence, so to speak, was missing. The harsh realities of a cultural divide finally impacted on her marriage, and while she did try to make things work, Ruffa had to finally admit that despite her strong love for her husband, she was no longer happy. “Hindi ko na kaya [I can’t take it anymore]” was what she answered when Boy Abunda asked if her husband abused her.

After trying to shake off what we imagine as her mother’s tons of advice and dire warnings across miles and miles of fiber-optic cable, Ruffa finally decided to listen to Annabel and come home where she was safe and well-protected by those who loved her. And all her mother wanted was for Ruffa to stand firm in her decision and to choose a life of freedom, though she may not be fabulously rich, instead of a miserable existence with her wealthy husband and his never ending gifts of diamond-studded jewelry. We can just imagine her mother getting tired of repeating herself and advising Ruffa what she should do if she was unhappy with her marriage.

With the bearing of a sage now, Annabel said Ruffa was still young and could start her life all over again. She would surely meet someone who would make her happy. The bad marriage happened. End it. Then move on. Ever the practical woman, Annabel even advised her daughter not to waste her in-laws’ money by making them fly all the way to Manila only for her to tell them that she wasn’t going back to Turkey with them.

And so Ruffa has realized the universal truth that all women must come to acknowledge at some point in their lives. Mothers know best.

UPDATE: As of press time, rumors are swirling around that Ruffa has left for the US—to meet with her estranged hubby perhaps? Oh, well, the heart chooses what it wants. And Annabel Rama will surely live another day to give her daughter—and us—a piece of her mind.

(My column, Something Like Life, is published every Friday, in the Life section of the BusinessMirror. TV grab from BusinessMirror)

Pwede ba, kasuhan na 'yan!

Borgy adversary getting support of 'other victims'
GMA News TV 04/18/2007 | 01:03 PM

The family of Carlo Brown, a scion of the prominent Pardo de Tavera clan who was reportedly mauled by a party led by commercial model and TV host Borgy Manotoc earlier this month, is getting the support of "other victims" to boost the case being prepared against the son of Ilocos Norte Representative Imee Marcos.

Radio station dzBB reported Wednesday that Carlos' mother, Mara Pardo de Tavera Brown, said they are now coordinating with the other reported victims of Manotoc.

One of those who promised to help strengthen the case against the model and television host is Dr Rey Fong who said his son was mauled by Manotoc in Boracay two years ago.

(More at Basagulero Borgy.)

LOOK the issue over this basagulero Borgy has gone long enough! Can the victims of this has-been model file their cases already? The problem with the families of his victims, they keep on playing out their issues in media. No one has actually hauled this idiot Marcos scion to court to teach him and his friends a lesson. Kaya nagiging abusado e. And as usual, here comes Mommy Imee to the rescue! Naku, Imee, hindi mo pinakain kasi ng Promil 'yan e!

It's about time that companies stop getting Borgy as their celebrity endorser unless they want their products identified with the arrogance and wa-class behavior of this hijo de alta sociedad. Imagine he even wanted to run for Manila mayor? Horrors! Disappointed that his modeling career is now going nowhere (e hindi naman talagang gwapo kung di lang me pangalan e!), now he is trying to live it up vicariously through his Lola Meldy! Binola pa ang matanda para maglabas ng jewelry line! Hesus!

The Bureau of Immigration should also take a look at the papers of that troublemaker, the model Ornussa. What's up with this girl anyway? She keeps figuring in these violent and near-blows incidents involving her boyfriend Borgy. Instigator! Feeling sexy tapos pag pinansin ng mga lalaki, feeling binastos? Dahling, you should feel flattered men are lusting after you! If you don't like it, then stop dressing up like a sex object or magkulong ka nalang kaya sa bahay? Does this woman have the proper alien working papers to begin with? Maybe it's about time she's sent packing to wherever rat hole she came from. E dito ka lang naman sumikat noh?! Excuse me hon, aren't your folks guests here in this country as well? Sic 'em, BID!

Check out the hilarious comments about the bar brawl at PEP.

Don Ho is dead

"Tiny bubbles
in the wine
Makes me feel happy,
makes me feel fine..."

THE first time I heard "Tiny Bubbles", I was five or six years old, studying in Little Angels Nursery School along Calamba St. in Quezon City. (Yeah and what a little devil I turned out to be!) It was after class, and I had on my little yellow grass skirt and a cute top, much like the top of two-piece bikinis, and shimmying my little body to this happy music I didn't understand at the time. "Tiny Bubbles", along with "Pearly Shells", (though not a Don Ho composition) became national anthems for many little six-year-old girls of my time, forced by their moms to attend Hawaiian or Tahitian classes which was the "after-class" or summer activities fad then.

I can't say a loved my Hawaiian classes, and I can't say I disliked them even. I was pretty much happy just shaking my booty to the music but I wasn't crazy about it especially when the sides of my tummy hurt when we had to do the faster Tahitian moves. Like my ballet classes, my Hawaiian classes didn't last. I guess my mom finally gave up on me after seeing I wasn't jumping up and down when I had to go to these classes. Hmmm...if only they offered taekwond then...

"Tiny Bubbles" made Don Ho a hit around the world. He introduced Hawaiian music to the world, even if it failed to accurately represent authentic Hawaiian music. (I've listened to it, and it is so much more meaningful than Don Ho's music.) He still became the island-state's most beloved music ambassador. What a life!

To this day, I still remember those graceful shakes I made to "Tiny Bubbles" and give a silent aloha to Don Ho, whose music was part of my mostly happy childhood.

Parenting your parents

Something Like Life
March 30, 2007



MY mom got lost in the Greenhills tiangge last week. Talk about freaky!

I don’t quite know how it happened as she was with my sister and my niece, trying to find some gift we could send to an aunt abroad. They were on the way to an appliance center, which was where I was supposed to meet up with them after finishing my grocery shopping at Unimart.

While I was pushing my grocery cart along the aisles, I got the frantic call from my sister telling me our mother was missing. She said our mom was just trailing behind them and as usual checking out the goods of each stall in the tiangge. Instead of taking responsibility as the first-born in the family is supposed to do, of course my sister proceeded to blame our mom for going missing. Duh.

I couldn’t think straight after that and subsequently ended up missing a few items on my grocery list because I wanted to get to where my sister was. She texted me that she had our mom paged through the Greenhills public-address system and was waiting at the appliance center for our mom to show up. As I was paying for my purchases at the check-out counter, who do I find mosying along the corridor but our mother of course! I yelled out to get her attention and couldn’t help but berate her for going missing. I immediately caught myself and realized I was treating her like my five-year-old grandniece, telling her how to behave. Anyway, I felt relieved that my mother had turned up. She said she was walking up and down Unimart’s corridors in the hope she would find me.

My mom turned 79 in February. Although she is fit as a fiddle and still alert, she has been experiencing some gaps in her memory. (She and my sister always meet at that same appliance center every time they go to Greenhills, so it is befuddling why our mom didn’t find it this time.) Of course, our mom denies she has such bouts of memory loss but it has been noticeable to me as I live with her 24/7. True, she is still strong for her age, can manage her way around despite being blind in one eye, and can still out-talk and bargain down a tindera at the tiangge anytime. Still, this latest episode was a bit disconcerting for me as this was the first time it happened to us. My sister and I are now considering giving our mom a cell phone just so that we can call her if ever we become separated again in a large confusing area like the Greenhills tiangge. While I have no doubts that our mother would have managed to get home if we never found her, maybe giving her a cell phone would help ease our stress levels the next time—heaven forbid!—we lose her again. I just find it a bit unnerving that when my siblings and I were toddlers, my mother never lost any of us in a crowded place.

When we are young, we look up to our parents with awe and depend on them for everything. We may not show it sometimes but we are grateful for the roof over our heads, the food we eat, and the clothes we wear. We are intelligent and educated because they saved up enough to send us to the best schools. They make a lot of sacrifices to give us a life better than they ever had. They are always the ones looking out for our welfare and praying that we make something of ourselves.

As our parents get older, the roles in the family become gradually reversed. We tend to be more protective over our folks and constantly try to look out for them. I know it can be troubling for the older generation as they slowly lose control over their lives and activities. Now that it is us children watching out for them, they feel uneasy and perhaps slightly embarrassed. To them, this is not the way the world is supposed to work.

My father, for example, is so used to managing his financial affairs; he chooses which bank to deposit his money in and which monetary instruments to invest in. Despairing over the recent lowering of interest rates, I explained to him in detail why this has been happening. (Yes, Omar Cruz, your name is now famous in our household.) But my father is skeptical. And not until his banker gave him the same explanation I did, did he acknowledge that I was right. Obviously, my having been a business journalist for over 14 years doesn’t amount to much in my father’s reckoning. In his eyes, I am probably still his five-year-old bunso whose main preoccupation is watching Sesame Street every afternoon. (Nowadays, it is Spongebob.) I know he still finds it difficult to ask me about financial matters and despite my having authored lots of pieces on personal finance, he will never get used to the idea of asking me for financial advice.

It’s not easy to parent your parents. There’s a lot of bickering and arguments because you insist on doing things your way, but they insist on their traditional way of handling matters. You feel your way is the more efficient method, but they feel more comfortable with their own system. I actually got into an argument with my father recently about budgeting for our household expenses, so I just let him go ahead and do his own thing his way.

Parents are very proud people who will try, as much as possible, not to ask for assistance from their children. They will want to maintain that air of superiority, control and independence no matter what. When it becomes clear to them that they cannot get along without our help, they feel defeated and useless. Nobody wants to feel old and decrepit, so it’s important to understand where they’re coming from and treat them still with the gentleness and respect they deserve. Obviously, I have failed a few times in that area given my short temper.

We children, of course, sometimes can’t deal with what we regard to be just plain stubbornness on our parents’ part. We ourselves are sometimes struck by how much time has gone by so fast and we’re now the ones always after our parents to drink their medicine, eat the right kinds of food, or wear the appropriate clothes to an affair they’re going to. It can be an exhausting and challenging responsibility to try to be there for them all the time. When we can’t, we have guilt trips and overcompensate by buying them stuff or taking them out, treating them as if they were our children.

There’s no easy way to deal with aging parents. Sometimes you just have to take each day as it comes. There will be days when we will feel trapped by such a huge responsibility, seeing it as a burden to care for them especially when they no longer recognize any of us. It can be tiring and mind-numbing. On some days, we are grateful we still have our parents around and we are now old enough to josh with them or trade experiences they can also relate to. We can only pray that there will be more good days than bad.

(My column, Something Like Life, is published every Friday in the Life section of the BusinessMirror. Photo credit: BusinessMirror)

I’m not hearing anything

Something Like Life
March 23, 2007

DESPITE the sobriquet mader that some young reporters attach to me, I am not a mother in the real sense of the term, having no real children of my own. And thank God for small mercies like that, because I doubt if I would have the patience to actually take care of little people, running around screaming wildly all day, or throwing tantrums in the middle of the supermarket. I’m the type of person who will walk away if put in an irritating and annoying situation.

Sure, I love cute babies just like the next person, and delight in animated talk about toddlers, but once they give me the lip or misbehave in any way, I will put them in their place. I find that I do this a lot of times at Sunday Mass these days. I don’t know why parents insist on bringing their rowdy children to church. So I would either give these little devils the evil eye to shut them up or actually shush them, especially when their own parents aren’t doing anything to control them. Sunday Mass is the only time I can think and pray and commune with some Supreme Power, and I find it offensive when the peace and serenity of the entire ritual is intruded on by loud blabbering, whining and crying.

“Eh, mga bata ‘yan eh!” some of you guilty parents would probably say. True, they are kids, so if you can’t control them, leave them at home! Or stay with them. God isn’t about to smite you down if you don’t go to Mass because you have to stay home with your kids. My own mother didn’t allow any of us to accompany her and my father to church unless we were well-behaved. Now that I think about it, just one hour of sitting still, with a cute little white veil over my head, wasn’t so bad. Of course, I would always look forward to the rewards of being so good in church—usually a small bag of tasteless barquillos and a big red balloon my mother would tie on my wrist so it wouldn’t fly away.

I don’t relish the hell that parents sometimes have to go through just to keep their children in line. It is virtually a 24/7 job that parents try to convince themselves will have its rewards when the time comes. When their children end up as bums, drug addicts or, worse, homicidal maniacs instead, they feel like they’ve been hit by a bus and overanalyze what they did wrong. (Parents, sometimes it isn’t you. It’s just the company your child chooses to keep.)

But when both parents are working, it is virtually next to impossible to have some kind of monitoring system going on what with the kind of nannies we have today. In my day, yayas (as well as the maids) were just fantastic. They were smart despite having finished only high school, spoke English well, were clean and fastidious about a child’s health, manners and behavior much like a parent, and had that all-important factor of malasakit toward the family. They functioned basically like majordomas so parents could entrust their children to the yaya’s care, secure in the thought that they will get back their children safe and sound, and probably even smarter. Unfortunately these days, yayas are just glorified domestics who will spank a child into submission if they aren’t left alone to watch their afternoon telenovelas. (I should know, I live next door to such a household and am this close to calling Bantay Bata.)

Parenting is a special calling, in the same way that a life of the cloth is. Like priests and nuns, parents have to be unselfish, willing to give up their time and their own individuality for the sake of the family. There is no room for thoughts of independence or freedom for parents. If you must have children, you have to make a lot of sacrifices and make room for any sudden changes in routines and schedules. If your child is sick, you have to be absent from work. Informed of an important school project the day before a teacher’s deadline and you have to run around like a headless chicken buying up the required materials. When he has a taekwondo match, you will likely have to shuck that important business conference in Singapore. And by the way, you can’t raise your voice or get mad when you’re kids are being makulit and misbehaving. You have to learn to control your own temper to answer their incessant questions, or explain to them the consequences of misbehaving. Patience, patience and more patience.

There was a time when all parents had to worry about was sex, drugs and rock ‘n’ roll. The times today are different and these are the least of the parents’ concerns. There are just too many temptations out there for kids that parents have to deal with. The drugs are harsher and more addictive, their kids’ peers are nastier because of the lack of adult supervision, there are gory video games, violent TV shows and even more violent movies, sexed-up advertising is everywhere, road rage and drunks at the wheel are not uncommon, and preying pedophiles and dirty old men have become a very real danger.

I know some working women, at the peak of their career, giving up their corporate life to stay with their growing children. They want to make sure their kids don’t turn out like the teenage whores out there shaking their booty in low-cut jeans with their T-backs peeping out of the waistband, or teenage punks willing to risk a jail time for just 15-minutes worth of petty thievery. Rearing children is a tiring and thankless job, and having children is a choice all parents must live with. So you can’t do the job with a half-assed attitude like you didn’t know what you and your spouse were in for when both of you decided to do the nasty every night.

As for me, after having played virtual nanny or baby sitter to my three nieces and nephew (now all adults, thank God!), I don’t relish the thought of changing any more soiled diapers in the near future. I think I’ve burped enough babies, eaten enough Gerber baby food just to get those kids to savor the subtle nuances of its different flavors (ick!), and taught the ABCs and 123s and sung “Little Sunny Water sleeping in a corner…” to last me a lifetime.

I also can’t imagine a life of no regular travels, dine-outs, get-togethers with friends, shopping and spa indulgences. Call me selfish, but all these are a part of who I am and what I enjoy doing. I’m not ready to trade these in for sleepless nights, constant worries about whether my child would come home alive today, or how I’m going to find the next project to pay for my kid’s college tuition. Heck! I can’t even water my plants everyday let alone take care of a child!

Like I said, parenting is a calling, and I’m not hearing anything.

(My column, Something Like Life, is published every Friday in the Life section of the BusinessMirror.)

The marriage conspiracy

Something Like Life
March 16-17, 2007

IS there one? Undoubtedly.

How many times do single women get accosted by married friends they haven’t seen for quite a while, or by relatives, with the bombshell question: “So, when are you going to get married?”

If you’re over 30 and still single, “The Others”—which I fondly call married couples (because like in the series Lost, they can be evil)—will never let up in harassing you with this question, sometimes even going so far as to investigate what you do with your life in an attempt to fathom the seeming mystery of your continuing singlehood. They will also forever try to fix you up with all the single men they know because they want you to be like them (i.e. fat and sedentary, with kids tearing at their hair every minute, and, when not at the office, usually stuck at home watching the latest telenovelas).

“Maganda ka naman, matalino ka…bakit di ka pa kasal?” they would press you. There is no easy way to answer these idiots without offending them. I just have to stop myself from actually blurting out, “Oo nga, kawawa ako noh? Ikaw nga panget at bobo, nakapag-asawa,” before cackling hysterically. I just settle with a dismissive: “Because I haven’t found someone to marry, obvious ba?”

There are so many unflattering names and descriptions for single women...old maid, spinster, hag, napag-iwanan ng biyahe, wala na sa kalendaryo, etc. In contrast, single men are given such a respectable term as “bachelor,” or the nonjudgemental “matandang binata”. What gives?

Single women often receive dinner invitations that require a date, a party where they are told to bring their husband or “significant other,” receive hotel gift certificates that say “for two.” Why does it cost more for a single woman to travel when, actually, there are less resources and energies expended by tour operators, airlines or hotels in servicing just one person? Whoever invented frigging single surcharges should be gutted and hung by his bootstraps!

Still, when you confidently attend events on your own with married couples in your midst, you are almost looked upon with pity. The Others start cracking jokes about their marriages and the mothers boast about their children and you are left out of the loop. You try to interject your story about the fabulous solo trip you took to some exotic destination like Bhutan, but you are ignored.

In this day and age, it still mystifies me how many people continue to think, albeit perhaps unconsciously, that a woman is worthless unless she is married and has children. I mean what about the four years she spent in college, and now her fabulous career? So the single woman now earns more money probably than most men her age, or is probably able to buy her own house and lot, car and furniture with money earned from her own profitable businesses...why isn’t she considered a success unless she has a family?

From youth, women are conditioned to think that the end-all and be-all of our existence is to get married and raise a family. (Men, on the other hand, are “programmed” to screw around as much as they want to with anyone they want to, no matter how many.) We are fed fairytales making us believe that our Prince Charming will come along and sweep us off our feet, wake us up from our long slumber, or rescue us from our dreary Cinderella lives. There will be a grand wedding in some castle that ends with a kiss. We are never told, nor do we ever ask, what happens next.

Because of this, sometimes a lot of women do get married for the wrong reasons. They expect so much from their husbands or the marriage itself that when the men fail to deliver, there are hurts, disappointments and, eventually, separations. Some women get hitched thinking they will find the satisfaction, peace and stability they’ve been craving for when they get married. They fall for the stupid fairytales, they romanticize marriage. Some women pin all their hopes on their husbands, then end up bruised by their own ignorance and delusion. Marriages today are complicated enough without you depending on your spouse for your fulfillment and happiness.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not dissing marriage. My own parents celebrated their 50th year of “twogetherness” just two years ago. And I know that despite their often dysfunctional dynamics, especially now that they’re approaching their 80s, they can’t live without each other.

But some women fail to realize that a lot of hard work goes into getting a marriage going. I admire my parents, for example, for sticking by each other through the many misunderstandings and tragedies that have happened in their lives. I am personal witness to how many sacrifices have been made in our name, the children. I don’t know if I could make the same difficult choices my mother made just to ensure a good future for herself and our family. If I were in her place, I probably would have thrown in the towel a long time ago.

And so, when expectations aren’t met, some try to claw their way out of their marriage sinkhole.

In analyzing why her four-year marriage to perennial Tour de France champion Lance Armstrong ended in divorce, Kristin Armstrong nee Richard, appearing on Oprah last year, said she just “lost herself” and became a “yes” woman. Kristin gave up her job in the US, sold her car and rented out her home to move to France to be with Lance. She said she tried to be the “perfect wife and perfect mother...to please [him] for the sake of our marriage.” She talked about being dazzled by the “rock on her left hand than to readying her heart for the journey ahead.” No one told her that marriage was going to be a series of challenges and that she may no longer recognize herself after she’d pledged her love and devotion to her husband.

Sure, sometimes I think maybe it would be nice to have someone to come home to and talk to at the end of a long day, or have someone to lay in bed with the entire Sunday just snuggling, or to have sex with regularly. We do need someone to share our burdens with or build a future with. But there comes a point in a single woman’s life that she will find other things, people, or activities that will fulfill those needs. Wanna snuggle? Get a dog. Want to have sex? Pick someone up at a bar. (Or get a vibrator.) Want a baby? Go to a sperm bank or convince your best male friend to donate his “mini-me’s.” Want to unburden? Call a friend.

I’m being facetious, of course. The point is, being single isn’t the end of the world. We are blessed with a lot of opportunities for personal growth and career advancement. It’s a whole lot better than ending up in the wrong marriage.

(My column, Something Like Life, is published every Friday in the Life section of the BusinessMirror.)

Living in dysfunctional families

ARTWORK Dysfunctional Family With Hope by Noelle Enright

Something Like Life
Jan. 26, 2007

TWO years ago, I had the opportunity to interview a rather famous Chinese-Filipino businesswoman who was trying to move on after the pain of going through a lengthy legal battle with her siblings. Reports regarding the traded lawsuits and padlocked factories and offices of this businesswoman and her siblings eventually spilled over to the pages of major newspapers and gossip columns. Apparently, when the family patriarch passed away, control over the family business was gradually handed over to this woman by her mother and her paternal aunts, much to the chagrin of her brother, the eldest male heir in the family. As you know, in most Chinese families, the eldest son usually inherits the right to take over the family business.

Thus, this woman and her brother fought, splitting the family down the middle, pitting three siblings against the other three. To put an end to the family squabble, which probably had hurt their mother the most, the business was taken apart. Each group of siblings took a piece of the family conglomerate, running these companies separately from the other group. It was a practical solution, which the businesswoman told me would probably have met the understanding and even approval of their late father. She told me it was the only way to keep the peace in the family. Despite the shame and humiliation of a public feud, she is still hopeful that her family would be mended, and she and her siblings will get along again.

It would be a bit simplistic to say that the fight was just for the control of billions of pesos in assets. That it was just about money. But as most people who’ve grown up in rich large families will tell you, such fights over finances usually can be traced back to one’s youth. All that bitterness and anger almost always originate from slights (imagined or otherwise), jealousies, insecurities and a desire to be acknowledged for one’s self-worth while growing up. In fact, this was exactly what was revealed when the feud of this businesswoman’s family became public. Issues that were better left in their childhood were brought up again, and each sibling behaved exactly the way they did in their youth.

But, really, who among us have grown up in perfect families? Many of us probably belong to dysfunctional families like that businesswoman’s, and have parents who probably have major hang-ups, or siblings with lots of insecurities.

And while growing up in such an emotionally charged family environment, we tend to compare ourselves with our classmates or friends, and always think their families are better than ours. But rich or poor—and I’ve had friends from both side of the fence—there is always something or someone that prevents them from having normal family relationships.

What is “normal” anyway? A father who earns enough to support his family, who comes home straight from the office to have dinner with the family? The same for the mother who rushes home to cook a meal for her hubby and kids, and is still able to do the household chores? And drug-free kids who are respectful, brilliant, hardworking at school and helpful at home? I have yet to meet a family who is all these.

Being in dysfunctional families, however, doesn’t mean all gloom and doom. Sometimes such families prepare us for the real world when we grow up, and help us deal with the challenges of dealing with different kinds of relationships. While some may be crippled by their own trials with, say, abusive parents or sanity-challenged siblings, and become adults bearing the same psychoses, most others go on to learn not to integrate their emotional handicaps, becoming better people because of their experiences within the family.

Of course, it is difficult to accomplish this separation of our family life from the world outside. What we are today is a product of how we conducted ourselves, survived even, within our families. We sometimes carry these feelings and behavior over even in different environments. Someone who has no respect for his father, a drunk perhaps, may see authority figures as fools as well. Such that in an office situation, he would be inclined to regard his boss with the kind of ridicule and disrespect he feels toward his father. Then there are those who are emotionally mature not to let such family inconveniences hinder their own relationships with other people.

Sometimes when we read about family feuds and lawsuits over inheritance among the influential and powerful, I kid my mother that our family is lucky because we’re not rich. My sister and I would have nothing to fight over when our folks eventually pass. (Knock on wood!) Seriously, being related by blood doesn’t mean a thing when your siblings have different values from yours. While the same DNA runs through your veins, you and your siblings—or even your parents—will have differing characters. Sometimes you wonder how you can be related at all to them when you are as different from them as night is to day. And you think there probably was some mix-up at the hospital and your real kuya is probably growing up in someone else’s family!

Of course, we can’t choose our own families. We are born into them and have to accept each family member, warts and all. (Or we don’t have to accept them, it’s our choice.) It can be a struggle to survive the clashes of different personalities with different beliefs or opinions, and grow up to become responsible mature adults. What helps us maybe are the friends and people we surround ourselves with, and the relationships we form with them. Besides, we tend to compensate for the lack of any normalcy in our families by moving toward friends who fill our need for balance and harmony. If we choose them appropriately, our friends — our real family - can help us become better people. And all the hurt and pain we grew up with cease to be a burden.

(My column, Something Like Life, is published every Friday in the Life section of the BusinessMirror.)