Portia’s Island

We all have lists. Recently, I rediscovered an old “things I have to do” list tucked inside one of my old journal. I have actually forgotten about it, because I wrote it almost 9 years ago. Some of the things I have listed there I have actually done (like finding Mr. Right One For Me, having a family, conquering several mountain peaks, knowing how to bake, travelling around the Philippines, among others); some I am still in the process of completing, my Master’s Degree being on top of the list; and still some that will have to wait (like owning my own beach house). Wonder if I will ever get the urge to go bungee jumping or para gliding again?

Your perspective changes when you are 27, compared to when you are 18. When one is young, the feeling of “I can do this, I will make my dreams come true” is very strong, you can almost taste it. Looking back, I think it was just hormones. It happens to everybody. As we get old, we mellow down, we get more settled emotionally. Physically also (meaning, the urge to travel and explore is not that strong, with the exception of those who got a serious case of the travel itch).

In my old list, it was about 100 items, and I have about 30 accomplishment checks. Not bad for 10 years. But I am modifying my list, because I am more realistic now. So instead of owning a sailing yacht, I will go for a smaller sailing trimaran instead. Imagine the usual pumpboat, only bigger, and with big outriggers where you can store provisions and other stuff. It will be big enough to take us around our usual dive spots in the Visayas. Oh, and there is an auxillary engine of course, in case the wind dies down.

I don’t wanna go around the world anymore also, too expensive. A trip around Southeast Asia will be just fine. My husband wants to go to Japan to immerse himself in the bonsai nurseries someday, so maybe I will go with him also. Don’t wanna go cruising around the Carribean anymore also, and never mind the Broadway shows. Don’t wanna own a car (the usual SUV type) anymore, will be waiting until hydrogen powered vehicles are out in about 10-15 years. Instead of learning 5 other languages, I will settle with two: Norwegian and Spanish (the first one out of necessity, the second one just because its the easiest to learn among all foreign languages).

I still wanna see the Great Barrier Reef, travel around Europe, sip coffee in the sidewalk of Paris, have a gastronomic tour of Thailand, explore India, and maybe go on safari to Kenya before all the lions, giraffes, hyenas, and cheetahs go extinct. Still want to ride an elephant, have a wall in our house covered with pictures I took myself,go diving in Tubbataha (from a 2003 list) and win the SuperMom award.

Dreams are for free anyway…and tax-free. =)

Recently, the issue of immigrating has come up in discussions in our house. Kesyo its better to have kids in Norway because the government will give you the financial support you need. Kesyo its better to live there because the red tape and bureaucracy and corruption here in the Philippines is terrible. Kesyo its better there in general because the environment is cleaner, its easier to find a job, and you are better compensated for what you do. For example, even mere waiters and bus drivers there can afford a 5 week holiday (with pay) to the Philippines.

Here’s what I have to say to all of this: 1. Yes, in many ways, its easier to have kids there because the government will give you generous subsidies to have kids. The government has to do that because the birth rate there is declining,and its not good for a country to have negative birth rate. Which makes me wonder… if the country is rich, and there is government support, why is the birth rate still declining? So many factors, but I guess one of the reasons is, in the long run, even with all the government subsidies, kids are still expensive to raise. And logically, it will cost more to raise children in a first world country rather a third world country. So why is it better to have kids there again? I don’t get the logic of this. And besides, never mind the finances. We all know that it takes more than money to raise kids. I still believe its better to raise children here in the Philippines, with out tradition of extended families and thus a better social support system. And who says that they will get a better education in a first world country? I beg to differ, big time. I was a product of the Philippine educational system, and I can say with certainty I am smarter than some of the westeners I know. Excuse me.

2. On red tape and bureaucracy, its true that its terrible here in the Philippines. Our government system has to be overhauled. But all countries have their problems. And red tape and bureaucracy will always be there. The thing is, everybody thinks ths Philippines is so hopeless that they would rather leave the country, and work their assess off wiping off white people’s asses. I mean no offense to anybody, its just that I get angry sometimes when I learn that our doctors would rather be nurses abroad–what happened to job dignity and serving humanity? But well, its their decision. If they think they will be happier working outside the country, fine with me. And please, do not come home and bitch about the Philippines after spending more than half of your life living abroad. If you don’t like it here, then leave. Its that simple.

3. There are so many things that are not right in our society. But no society is ever perfect, even in the West. Its true that most professionals here in the country are underpaid, and that’s why they seek better pastures abroad. If I stayed here and worked my ass off, it will take me a lifetime to build my own house. But I will not go abroad and work low quality jobs in a western country simply because I will get paid more there compared to my job here. I believe in the dignity of my work, no matter how small the pay. My work here might not have much in the way of benefits—but who needs a 5 week paid vacation when you feel like you have a working vacation all the time? I get paid to do the things I love to do, and the meager salary is not an issue for me. Financially, I know I will never get rich. But at least, my soul is.

Bottom line is, whatever other people say, I still want to stay in the Philippines. I want to work here, raise my kids here, grow old here, and die here. If the time comes that we really need to go for some reason, then I will just have to learn to deal with it because its not just my decision, its a conjugal decision. But I am very sure though of one thing: I will never give up my Filipino citizenship. Ever. I value it for all it stands for, good and bad. Even if it becomes inconvinient for me to be a Filipino citizen living in a western country. It is my identity, and I will carry it with me till the day I die.

Last weekend, I went ballroom dancing with my mother-in-law in Quezon Park.  The senior citizens of Dumaguete have a ballroom dancing association ans they hold their dancing sessions in the park every weekend. 

Looking at all the old women there move, you would not think they are at least 60 years old.  Some of them dance really well.  Everybody on the dance floor look so well put together in their dresses and shoes—and we’re talking about high heels, the kind with only a one inch diameter pointy thingie that can miraculously support all your body weight.

Even I could see that they really enjoy being on the dance floor. The shoes they are wearing probably hurt after  an hour (unless they are dancing shoes), but you wouldn’t see it in their faces.  And they would all be made-up with bright red lipsticks and shiny dresses with sequins, tassels and all. 

The other day, as I was walking in downtown Dumaguete, I saw one of the dancing ladies. She was in a stall selling doormats and rags–the 3-for-P50 kind that you can use to wipe kitchen surfaces or as a potholder. I am very sure she was the same woman, only without make-up and the pointy shoes and the shiny dress.  She looked tired, and seemed to be waiting for something. Maybe she was counting the days till its Saturday again, so she can put on her dancing shoes. I can really understand now why she was glowing on the dance floor as she tangoed and jived the whole night…

It was one of those things I have on my "Things to do in my life" list.  I love diving, and I like photography, and I have always wanted to take pictures underwater ever since I started diving. Primarily to remember the beautiful things I have seen down there. 

Finally, after many years of wishing, I got my chance. I got grant money for a digital camera AND the underwater casing. The first few tries at it were not successful. The conditions were too rough, and the camera lens was misaligned for some reasons, and it was stupid of me not to check it before going off the boat.  Finally, after4 failed attempts, I was able to take decent shots underwater. They are not the kind who would make it to a diving magazine, but i am happy with the way they turned out. With a little help from photoshop, the colors became vibrant and I could adjust the framing. I finally had my own Nemo pictures and the classic one of the eel coming out of its hole. =)

I guess now I understand why anemonefishes, slugs, and moray eels are the favorite among macro photographers. They are easier to take pictures of compared to fish. I have a new found respect now for those photogrpahers–some of them probably hold their breath for a looong time just to take that one great picture.

Sure, some of the pictures I’ve seen in divng magazines were enhanced by photoshop. But there is only so much you can do with photoshop. If the picture was blue when you took it, then it will be blue no matter what you do afterwards.  And one should know the limitation of one’s camera.  Even the best digital cameras are only good at macro shots if you do not have an adequate light source. I am not an expert on underwater photography, but now I understand why all underwater photgraphers need all those lights. The reef only comes alive with color when you have a good light source.

And I guess that is the secret to everything: good light. Wonder how long I have to wait before I can get that underwater strobe?

Time indeed goes by quickly sometimes. In about 5 weeks time, my son will be one year old already. Has it been that fast already?

Gosh, has it really been 397 days since the last time he was inside me? I can still recall the day I gave birth to him very vividly. I remember being pissed off half the time in between the labor pains because Wowowee was playing in the TV they had in the labor room. I kept asking the midwives to transfer the channel into whatever–anything!–except that show. But they couldn’t find the remote control, and that was that. And nobody was tall enough to reach the TV that was inside a box attached to the ceiling. If I had been able to get up and change it myself, I would have. Thankfully, cellphones were allowed in the delivery room and after a short SMS to my husband, my salvation came in the mp3 player. Beastie boys and pinikpikan….. hmmm, maybe that partly explains my son’s hyperactive personality?

To all my female friends who are reading this blog and haven’t gone through pregnancy and birth yet— do not dread labor and delivery. Its hard, yes, but it will be over in a few hours. Its the months that follow that are harder by several degrees. But still, even though it is challenging, it is so worth it.

I sometimes have to remind myself how Orrin looked like the day he was born. He was not handsome at all, as all newborn boys are. But now, my golly, my son is really gwapo. I keep on falling in love with him everytime he wakes me up in the morning–sometimes with a kick in the face, sometimes with a kiss– and every time he gives me that little contented smile before finally going to Dreamland. The latest “pa-cute” he knows now is “beautiful eyes”. Batting eyelashes 3 times before giving a long wink. Never fails to illicit smiles from everybody. He is really becoming a charmer.

It wont be long now before he can finally walk on his own. Even now, he is showing signs that he wants to be independent. My baby is fast becoming a little boy. I hope he doesn’t grow up too quickly. I just know I am going to cry when he takes his first steps. Tears of joys mixed with tears of sadness, knowing that his first step will be the first many as he takes on the world around him. He may have come from me, but he is not mine. The best thing I can do is guide him as he goes through life, in the best way I know how.

Hay, kadasig sang tiyempo ah… it seemed only yesterday that he was this small bundle sleeping in peace in my arms. He has lost his baby smell, that’s for sure, but I will always remember how sweet his breath smelled on the first few days. And the memory of that smell will stay with me always….