Here and after

Amidst a thousand candles flickering in the twilight, I sat beside and gazed upon the gravestone of my dearly departed grandfather. I lightly traced with my fingers the engravings and markings carved on the glistening marble surface. It felt cold even if night has yet to fall.

I looked at my palms and I thought of my grandfather. His existence in me is undeniable. A part of him is forever in me. I exist because at one time he too existed. I am because of him.

A gentle breeze has billowed and the scent of candles and flowers wafted in the air. I looked up at the sky. There were no stars yet. There was just the moon surrounded by clouds.

It is hard to grapple with the memory of someone you vaguely remember.

I hardly knew my grandfather. He died when I was just a little child. He passed away before I could figure out who he was and what he meant to me.

I have few memories of him. I can recall sitting on his lap whenever he would talk to me. I can remember how he smiled and how he laughed.

But still, I feel perturbed. It’s as if something is missing and my memory can’t really do anything about it. Though my grandfather’s presence lingers around me, I can barely hold on to it. All I can do is just sigh.

Memory is a devious thing. Though it is a source of comfort, it is also a source of pain. Though it may make us feel alive, it is just a marker in the odyssey of our lives. It is just bits and pieces of how far we have come.

Try as one might, memory is not reliable. It is inevitably colored with our emotions and our thoughts. Our perspectives inevitably influence our experiences.

Memory retains a bias, so says Eileen Tabios in her poem, What I Acknowledge. She asserts that we tend to remember hurtful memories more than we do less hurtful ones. We dwell on misery more than we do on happiness.

I suppose that is true but it is not because we take the memories that give us joy for granted. It’s just that painful ones leave a more searing mark. They leave wounds that take time to heal. Here and after, they leave scars.

It is of no consequence to fall prey to haunting memories. Like glass bubbles that reflect a multitude of hues, it is easy to be overwhelmed with its nostalgic appeal. To be enthralled and to be swept away can be mildly exhilarating.

But then, it is a folly for sure to be trapped in memories even if there are times when it seems that it can’t be helped; especially when all that we hold dear, our sweetest moments, are eternally cradled in our memories.

Then there are times when we do strive to move on and to let go, a song, a scent, or even a syllable may invariably transport us back to where we were before, wallowing in melancholy. Memory can be a prison but the thing is, we hold the key to its lock. It is in our hands if we let it decide our fate.

We can’t hold on to what has happened in the past.

In the film 2046, director Wong Kar-Wai says, “You can never compete with something in the past, with memory. We love what we can’t have. And we can’t have what we love.”

Memory serves only a simple purpose and that is remembrance. It is not an aspiration for then it becomes an illusion.

Memory guards our experiences. It links us to where we were once. It reminds us of how much we have done. It tells us of what we are so far. As long as we are aware and we are in command, it will not lead us astray.


Now, as I lay down to sleep, I look beside me and see a face that I may not be able to hold on to for long. Like my grandfather, all that I may have of him soon may just be memories. It troubles me but I have to learn with this eventuality. I cannot contend with what is inevitable.

I lightly trace his features with my gaze. For how long will I hold on to his memory? I am not sure. A smile creeps on my face. I am grateful. He may not be a part of my life forever but his memory will linger for a while until that too, I will let go.

Distance between

Sn k?

That was all I could muster to ask. I was not sure if I needed to know anything else. I was a bit vague but somehow, I did not want to convey more than just what I would really like to say. It was late and he was probably asleep already. But still, that did not stop me. Maybe because it was better that way. It was hard enough trying to come up with a five-character message. It would have been more difficult if he did get my message and then he decided to reply. What would I say next?

It’s strange trying to find the right words when you don’t have anything to say. I was not even sure why I was trying to reach out to him. My mind was restless that night. Though there was a myriad of reasons that were swirling in my head, I couldn’t seem to recall them anymore. To say that they were confusing would be an understatement. But then, those were all that I have. Even now, I cannot fathom why.

But then, all I could remember was how I felt that night. I wasn’t particularly happy or sad. I was lying on my bed while I was tracing in my mind the patterns of shadows that were on my room’s ceiling. The curlicues and the arabesques all looked gentle and kind.

My subconscious would probably have a better grasp of what I was into that night. Too bad that’s beyond me. Was I just bored? Did I feel numb? Somehow, I felt the need to ask him where he was.

Maybe, I wanted to find out if he’s doing okay. Though we see each other quite often, it’s not like we have the luxury of getting to know the whats and the whys of our lives regularly. He does look fine but does that mean he feels the same way? To a certain extent, that might be true but I can’t be too sure.

Maybe, I wanted to tell him that he need not worry about me. I may not be in tip-top shape but I am doing better than I expected. I have a lot on my mind and that’s evident. I am busy and that can’t be helped. A lot of things are happening around me and though I feel burdened at times, I do get a sense of satisfaction and fulfillment. Schoolwork can get the best of me but it does have its rewards.

Maybe, I wanted to know if everything is okay between us. Friendships have a way of unraveling when left unchecked. Friends we have grown up with or friends we have known for a long time can quite easily fade into our lives’ background if we are not careful. There is a distance between each and everyone of us. Though it takes two to keep this distance short, it takes only one to let go and let this distance stretch on to forever.

But then, even if friends do drift apart it doesn’t mean that they’re eternally gone. Pieces of them do remain. A memory, a habit or even a feeling is always retained.

A friend of mine passed away a couple of days ago. She was a voluptuous and vivacious young woman. I know what she means to me and she knew what I meant to her. I will miss her and I would always remember her with fondness in what’s left of my heart. She has made me realize that goodbyes are not all that bad.

Now, as I seem to gaze into the night once again, it dawns on me that maybe, I wanted to bid him goodbye. I am not putting myself down but I believe that he is better off without me. I feel I am a burden to him. He has a lot going on for him and I may just be a hindrance.

It is not as if I am not grateful for all that he has done for me. I truly am. He is actually all that I could hope for in a friend but I don’t deserve him. Maybe someday I will, but definitely not now.

Yes, it’s a selfish decision. I am not fazed. I hope he doesn’t hate me. I’m pretty sure he won’t. It’s just that, I can’t be his friend anymore and I’m sorry.

Sn k?

That was all I could muster to ask because there are things that are better left unsaid.

Defiance

What do I see when I think of a student who is committed to his convictions and principles? I see a student who is standing on top of a precarious cliff. He is looking towards the sky but he is not staring at anything in particular.

He is actually contemplating. There are distractions around him but he seems unfazed. Like a stoic boulder on a mountain, his footing is solid. He is by himself, naturally. Though he is alone, he is unperturbed.

Most personal battles are fought by one’s lonesome. It is very rare that one finds company when faced with trials or tribulations. More often than not, one stands alone. Solace is but something one has to contend with in one’s own solitude. Strength and persistence is required. It is during this period that one’s character is tested. One can either triumph or fail. Fortunately, this does not happen only once. Every waking moment is like a battlefield. One just has to be aware of it.

I live the way I want to. Though it sounds simple enough, it is not. There are a lot of pressures and expectations to contend with everyday. It seems my life can only get so far without ruffling feathers here and about.

I figure it is but inevitable for things to go this way. People will invariably have opinions. They will have a thing or two to say about how I live in this world. “Be yourself,” so goes a popular clothing advertisement, but in reality, you can only be yourself as far as the people around you would let you.

I don’t drink, I don’t smoke, I don’t do caffeine, and I don’t screw around. In this day and age, these facets of my life make me queer, no pun intended. It is not for lack of trying or lack of effort that led me to this situation. Peer pressure is not a big thing for me. I do what I want and I could care less with the consequences.

I gained and lost friends. Some thought I was hypocritical. Others just thought I was weird. Nonetheless, these varying negative perceptions hounded me. At times, I felt affected. At times,
I just shrugged them off. Though I am influenced with people’s perceptions, it can only go as far as I want to. I am still in control. Sometimes I do falter, but I do my best to stand up and regain my composure.

I realize that it is hard to live the life I chose. It is not easy waking up everyday trying my best to hold on to what I believe is my true self. There are no compromises to what will make me content and happy. I draw strength from within.

Giving up seems so effortless but that is not merely the case. Losing to others and giving in to what they want would mean total damnation. It is not the kind of life that I would be willing to lead. I would rather burn or drown.

I have not had a lot of battles in my life and I guess I am pretty lucky. My troubles seem but a trifle to what others have gone through but nevertheless they are still valid.

I am alone and that is but proper. It is by one’s self that one finds one’s true strength. If others would have a hard time dealing with me, then that is just unfortunate. I will not lose sleep over it.

I believe in what Anna Friel had once said, “Maybe what I am is enough.” I am who I am. If others cannot take it, so be it.

Gloria's SONAta

Nothing is more disconcerting than hearing two different accounts of what is supposed to be the same story. Regardless that there are inherent biases in differing views, one would expect similarities and not outright contradictions. It is confusing, to say the least. One can’t help but feel a sense of foreboding, like everything is not what it seems to be. It’s not about being skeptical but about not being naïve.

Such were my sentiments when I saw, and eventually read, President Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo’s State of the Nation Address (SONA) a few days ago. I admit I was impressed. Her report to the nation sounded so convincing. It was no mean feat to deliver such claims of economic, social, educational and political development. She seemed almost messianic.

But therein lies the rub. If what GMA said in her report were true, how come various sectors, not only militant groups, are greatly dissatisfied? It’s a given that there’s no pleasing everyone; that would be undeniably impossible. But somehow, one would expect a sense of hopefulness in how we see GMA assess our country’s situation. There is none.

What is there is an undeniable feeling of anxiety. GMA’s first three and a half years in Malacanang had been hard. From ousting Estrada in EDSA Dos to facing the global war on terror, from military uprisings to judicial hall bickering, from calls of resignations to suspicions of corruptions, she had been amidst all these. Her report does not assure or comfort us. In fact, it tells us to be wary. We can’t take what she has said based just on their face value.

Even if we would want to accept and to believe what GMA said in her report to the nation, it would be hard not to see glaring discrepancies. Case in point, Angelo de la Cruz is not a symbol of our nation’s triumph. Instead, he is the paragon of the pitiful plight of our OFWs. He shouldn’t have been there. He was caught in a war that is not even our own. True, we have to show our solidarity in the fight against terrorism but the war against Iraq was taking things too far. We should have left months ago. Damn whatever the New York Times has to say.

Time and again, GMA has pledged her support to the improvement of our educational system. In fact, it is during her term that more books, more teachers and more school buildings have been made available to students all over the country. Thank you very much but we need more than just those. A comprehensive educational plan that would train leaders, pioneers and innovators should be in the offing. Filipino students deserve better than just a future of subservience to multinational conglomerates or healthcare institutions.

Moreover, corruption in the Department of Education (DepEd) should be further addressed. In Yvonne Chua’s report for the Philippine Center for Investigative Journalism (PCIJ) a year ago, she says there are still widespread anomalies in the procurement of books and other educational materials in the division levels of the DepEd. Public funds meant for students and teachers are still being squandered.

Then there are GMA’s economic endeavors. Though it is laudable that we support free trade and abhor any form of monopoly, there should be strong measures that would protect our local industries. The influx of foreign goods has adversely affected our local trade. Albeit it is good that competition would spruce up innovations, but at what cost?

According to Ilang-Ilang Quijano of Pinoy Weekly, the provisions of the Common Effective Preferential Tariff (CEAP) would further liberalize trade in our part of Asia. A study by the Ibon Foundation adds that 12 companies close shop and 289 workers lose their jobs everyday because of the various measures in support of globalization. Even vegetable growers from Benguet have incurred losses amounting to P21 billion because of imports. Buy Filipino is not just a slogan anymore, it has now become a plea.

Maybe it’s time that GMA should also find more effective and immediate ways to encourage and to improve local entrepreneurial efforts. Apart from inviting investors from the world over to do business here, she should be more adept in developing homegrown endeavors. We should not be dependent on investors who more often than not exploit our cheap human work force.

GMA’s SONA has much to be desired. Though it is true that SONAs do assess and project our country’s path to growth and development, it is not the be all and end all of our situation. GMA’s leadership should still be the stronghold from which all Filipino advancement should be cultivated. But unfortunately, that is not the case. It is up to us to look after what’s best for each and everyone of us. We can’t be complacent.

For the past couple of SONAs, GMA has cloaked herself in the legacy of her father, former president Diosdado Macapagal. She regaled herself with the “poor boy from Lubao” heritage and image. She too is of humble beginnings. She too yearns for public service.
Not this year; her SONA speaks of who and what she truly is. Resplendent in an Inno Sotto gold terno, she projected herself as formidable and capable. Tougher times are ahead, she said. Let’s all brace ourselves and see if she can deliver what she has set out to do.

Of AIDS and hope

“Weren’t you afraid?”

This was the question people asked me when they learned I had my internship with Positive Action foundation Philippines Incorporated (Pafpi), a non-government organization which seeks to uplift the welfare of people living with the Human Immunodeficiency Virus and Acquired Immune Deficiency Syndrome.

At times, I answered this simple query with just a slight shrug of the shoulder. Often, I would look at the one who asked in a funny and disbelieving way. In my mind, it seems incredulous for me to be afraid of something I have already been taught of. It would have been a waste of my time and energy if I didn’t consciously absorb all that have been shared with me. But then, I did try to see this question from the shoes of those who asked it and I wonder.

Should I be afraid of people like me who wake up and who go to work each day? Should I be afraid of people who do their best to lead independent and productive lives? Should I be
afraid of people who risk persecution and prejudice because of what they do for a living? Should I be afraid of people who risk life and limb just so to send their message across? Finally, should I be afraid of people who despite their condition, can look up to the face of life and can be adamant with its challenges?

The answer is a resounding, “No.”

In my stay at Pafpi, I learned and realized that HIV or AIDS are not barriers toward a fulfilling life. Yes, its effects are debilitating. Yes, it does make one’s body weak. But, all in all, it is not a period that can just mark the sentence of one’s life. In fact, it is an opportunity to grow and to serve.

I may sound a bit patronizing especially to those who think their lives have ended when they have learned of their affliction. But then, everybody hurts in one way or another. It may not be as physical and as emotional as theirs but still; it is as important and as valid.

We live our lives according to the choices that we make, albeit consciously or otherwise. Whatever results or consequences that come out of it, we have to make the most of these. Life is short and the people I have worked with at Pafpi have underscored that. But still, they have also taught me that even if life is indeed short, there is no reason not to celebrate it in life and laughter. After all, fun and frivolity are both in the other side of the same coin that flips to how our lives are at any given point. This fact amazes and comforts me. It gives me a very good reason to hope; a future where my personal upheavals and battles won’t sway me down.

Moreover, Pafpi has given me a clearer perspective on how my discipline helps and abuses them at the same time. Mass media often treats this issue as just a controversial and seasonal news or feature item. People are involved and thus, it should be given more credence.
Mass media is powerful. That fact in itself is an understatement but then its resources work like a double-edged sword. It is up to me to rise to the challenge of helping mold or build a better image of what is commonly regarded as a newsworthy item. It is up to people like me to help
insure that mass media’s strength and influence will be used in a positive light to those who really need it.

Advocacy has done so much but still a lot can be done to encourage more efforts for it. In my way and my community, I may share whatever knowledge that has been patiently said to me. Health is life and everyone should be a part of it. We are all in this together. No one is exempted. It is both a duty and a privilege to be fighting for its cause and cure.

Our lives are not our own. It is the sum total of the existence of all those that have come before and all those that will follow after. We are all but strands of thread in the great fabric of life. HIV or AIDS is not an end; rather it is a means to an end. Much better if it ignites sparks to light fires that will prevent others from tarrying towards the same cruel fate.

Hope does not come in a bottle. It is not instant. It is what we inspire in others.