Overseas Filipino Workers

Today’s topic is all about our Filipino heroes. Since I’m trying to overcome writer’s block for me to be able to finish my book, I’ll just take simple inspirations from people I’ve sat next to or incidently began spying about for practice on the use of words and sentences to build a certain imaginary kind of — err, thought?

Anyway, I’ve sat next to this girl whom I thought was just chatting with her boyfriend on the phone. She had the usual traits of someone who might be chatting away with a boyfriend —- twirling of some strands of hair, laughing erroneously at something he or she must’ve said, touching herself (it may be by touching somewhere not private, or otherwise. In this case, she was touching her ear a lot.[???]), and the best trait of it all, blushing although there really isn’t anything to blush about.

And so, as I sat next to her today at some coffee shop, I began munching away at my oatmeal cookie while reading a very interesting book about Traveling one’s own paths. The book was a good read, especially about the parts where the authors (there’s three of them) begin their travel and interview all these famous, and not so famous but incredibly successful people in this materialistic and complex world. I actually saw it in a bookstore while paying my fees to laminate my IDs and was proud to have found it in a pleasant state: still sealed in plastic, no scratch marks, still bearing the original price tag next to the locally priced one, and the best part of it is that it costs only 99 pesos. Ah what a great find indeed. As I tread on to page 36, I suddenly hear the girl talking out loud.

“Niloloko mo ba ako? Hindi kaya!” (Are you kidding me? No it isn’t!)

Ooohh, I can’t believe I’m hearing a break-up in the works from some stranger. I promised I won’t even glance at her but still my peripheral vision is as clear as water. She doesn’t freak out that much. But she seems a bit mad. Go for it girl. Kill him with your words.

“Nakay Allan na ang mga dokumento.”

Or maybe not. But this can be a start of a spy novel or something… If only I had enough eye strength to watch those early Bernardo Bertolucci films for me to get enough style to create a spy novel that’s far worth reading than Harriet the Spy.

“Ay gano’n. Osige. Sana lang talaga ay makarating sya sa Airport bukas. Ayoko na’ng umuwi sa bahay. Alam mo na, mahirap mag-salita.”

Geeezers. That’s a lot of tagalog words to translate, dude. Can’t you just get someone to translate that for you? Well, if that’s gonna make you read this then, okay.

(“Oh is that so? Alright. I just wish that he/she would arrive at the airport tomorrow. I don’t want to go back at home. Uhuh. Well you know, it’s just hard to say something.”)

Okay. I think it was a bad idea to listen to this girl.. and why the heck have I been listening? Oh yeah, ’cause the sound system seems to be lacking more Louis Armstrong than it used to have and I think they need to check who bumped into the stereo and nudged the volume to a 1; because I ran out of batteries on my MP3 phone; and well you just can’t help it when you’r sitting next to someone who’s talking to someone on the phone which is actually switched to speaker phone but is placed on that person’s ear. Hence, limiting their senses to hear correctly and thus they tend to answer by shouting hoping that the loudness that they can hear on their phones would be equalled by the amount of voice they can produce. Now isn’t that just right.

Anyway, the point is I’ve never really sat next to someone who might be on the news next week due to illegal trafficking of themselves to another country. The common problem is that us Filipinos dream of going to another country such as the US to find their dream jobs or at least get one that can give them the dream life. We Filipinos have heard so much about successful people who start so low (or so high) and in the height of their careers they become incredibly successful: due to hardwork, perseverance, and patience. Hence, even if they end up working in the Middle East under a smelly employer who only goes to the public bath on weekends, or on Saturdays which is the only weekends they ever get, our OFWs work hard to pay the bills, bring their kids to school, get them their children some dream toys and put them to good school.

I’ve never had a parent who did that. Although our former maid had been said to have gone to Dubai a few years after she ran away from us, she isn’t my direct relative so I don’t really know the details. I’ve never been to anywhere that needs a Visa or a Passport so this to me seems like a new thing.

Well the end of this is that she was NOT speaking to her boyfriend, although it was a dude but I don’t really know. And I do hope that she could get out of the country for all sense and purposes. It’s a hard day’s life in this country but at least we all still come back here and continue living life. As it is and should be.

I’d Like To Be Under The Sea

I GUESS it’s just fair to say that Octopus’ Garden is one of my favorite Beatles’ song (right after Yellow Submarine, Free As A Bird, Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds, I Wanna Hold Your Hand, and whatever else I may have forgotten..). I mean who wouldn’t? It’s written by Ringo Starr, it’s lovely, and it gets to you like a lullabye in your sleep, in which all you ever want to do is play it all over and over again just to understand the lyrics and to confirm if the song was made for you.

According to George Harrison, this was the second song that Ringo has ever written and one of the songs Lennon and McCartney have disregarded from Ringo. The beat is just cosmic and I ultimately think that it’s one of those songs that makes you wanna go back to those Flower Power days.

Here are a couple of footages off from Youtube..

Isn’t it so nice? Plus, it’s Ringo Starr singing.. not the usual Beatles’ thing known to mankind these days. No pun intended. Plus, all for of them are totally awesome (and I don’t usually say ‘awesome’) what with all the playing they’ve done in the early parts of their career as a band playing in a local bar in London, who wouldn’t play better music than them of course??!

Anyway, Beatles fan or not, let me know ’bout your thoughts on this post by leaving a comment. :)

All The Time In The World


What is the purpose of doing nothing when you still got your mind wandering off elsewhere?

I’ve asked myself this question a billlion times this week as I tried waking up late in the morning. No matter what I do, I end up waking in the middle of the morning with my cat, Scared, purring on my side. I’ve tried alarm clocks but still I end up waking an hour ahead. As I watch the sun rise, I plan my day ahead.

Cook breakfast, feed the dogs, wash the plates, iron the laundry, sit and watch TV, finish this week’s book (this week’s offering: Martha Grimes’ Richard Jury novel, The Deer Leap) or at least as three to four chapters, fall into a deep slumber. Or whadyacallit? Oh yeah, take a nap. Upon waking up, take a bath, cook lunch, eat, and feed the dogs. Watch a DVD or just stare at the wall. You’ve been longing all of these for a long, long time now.

Yes. Staring at the wall is such a swell chore. It’s sort of like a therapy, too. But what does one have to do though when they don’t do anything at all? All the time in the world lies in seconds, instead of the occasional hours.

\”We Have All The Time In The World\” by Louis Armstrong

I guess it sounds argumentally bad, but would it be bad if I told you that I want to stay at home, no work or school to bother about, only for about a month? Would it be bad to go thinking about things and taking these lightly?

It sure sounds bad. I think. But why should I, or anybody, care about what other people should say? Can these people give me good food, nice clothes, a comforting home? I don’t think so.

So I guess, as absolutely unbelievable as I think this is, I’m happy, at least. That I get up every morning and think about whatever lies ahead of the day and not get into a panic state.