Bubbly, playful, at times loud, more than fifty elementary-aged children gathered at Las Piñas United Methodist Church sanctuary in one of Metro Manila's barrios. Few of the children sang with confidence; others observed and shyly went through the motions of an action theme song chosen to kick off Vacation Church School. The atmosphere was almost infectious and touching to an observer as children's voices, in unison, praised and worshipped. Soon, children and their youthful teacher leaders broke into age-groups for appropriate and focused discussion-sharing of Jesus's unbridled, unconditional love for His beloved disciples and disciples-to-be. They sported get-to-know activities, and through games and storytelling strategies, they talked about sharing a wonderful kind of love, agape. Simple and humble, the sanctuary, turned into makeshift classrooms, was surely fit for character check and 'soul fishing' geared to transform perspectives of very young minds about a God who lived among humankind, and loved all!
Wednesday, April 29, 2015
Fish-4-Souls
40 ...
Bubbly, playful, at times loud, more than fifty elementary-aged children gathered at Las Piñas United Methodist Church sanctuary in one of Metro Manila's barrios. Few of the children sang with confidence; others observed and shyly went through the motions of an action theme song chosen to kick off Vacation Church School. The atmosphere was almost infectious and touching to an observer as children's voices, in unison, praised and worshipped. Soon, children and their youthful teacher leaders broke into age-groups for appropriate and focused discussion-sharing of Jesus's unbridled, unconditional love for His beloved disciples and disciples-to-be. They sported get-to-know activities, and through games and storytelling strategies, they talked about sharing a wonderful kind of love, agape. Simple and humble, the sanctuary, turned into makeshift classrooms, was surely fit for character check and 'soul fishing' geared to transform perspectives of very young minds about a God who lived among humankind, and loved all!
Bubbly, playful, at times loud, more than fifty elementary-aged children gathered at Las Piñas United Methodist Church sanctuary in one of Metro Manila's barrios. Few of the children sang with confidence; others observed and shyly went through the motions of an action theme song chosen to kick off Vacation Church School. The atmosphere was almost infectious and touching to an observer as children's voices, in unison, praised and worshipped. Soon, children and their youthful teacher leaders broke into age-groups for appropriate and focused discussion-sharing of Jesus's unbridled, unconditional love for His beloved disciples and disciples-to-be. They sported get-to-know activities, and through games and storytelling strategies, they talked about sharing a wonderful kind of love, agape. Simple and humble, the sanctuary, turned into makeshift classrooms, was surely fit for character check and 'soul fishing' geared to transform perspectives of very young minds about a God who lived among humankind, and loved all!
Homecoming
39 ...
The university quadrangle burst in outfits of coral, ruby, pearl and yellow as alumni gathered to celebrate. You could tell from any viewing angle that one symbolic hue among all others stood out because the Golden Jubilarians’ dominated representation. There they were in their yellow and gold garb, proud and joyful over making it to 50th year after graduation. More so were they overtly expressive over their milestone achievement as their class was called to get on stage and receive one, huge recognition. No one saw it coming, but surely, they put on a show of choreographed dances, songs and speeches of gratitude to their alma mater. Homecoming brings mixed feelings of nostalgic kind, for sure. What is obvious though is that returning to a place, which guided young careers or sent seasoned professionals to wide worlds and experiences, dig from inside out, senses of accomplishment, pride and humility!
The university quadrangle burst in outfits of coral, ruby, pearl and yellow as alumni gathered to celebrate. You could tell from any viewing angle that one symbolic hue among all others stood out because the Golden Jubilarians’ dominated representation. There they were in their yellow and gold garb, proud and joyful over making it to 50th year after graduation. More so were they overtly expressive over their milestone achievement as their class was called to get on stage and receive one, huge recognition. No one saw it coming, but surely, they put on a show of choreographed dances, songs and speeches of gratitude to their alma mater. Homecoming brings mixed feelings of nostalgic kind, for sure. What is obvious though is that returning to a place, which guided young careers or sent seasoned professionals to wide worlds and experiences, dig from inside out, senses of accomplishment, pride and humility!
Monday, April 27, 2015
Fran
38 ...
I found Fran, my buddy and closest of college friends, sitting with a worried look on her face at one of the quadrangle outdoor benches. Her used-to-be short wavy hair was no longer there; she instead sported a long straight hair, a style I did not imagine she preferred. I reckon time allowed for changes, in the same way her curvy slim figure had evolved into bulgy, weighty, fleshy stature. I was saddened to see her in that unhealthy-looking figure. I thought a body like that spelled out either lack of care or serious health challenges. Enough musing on what was and what is, I told myself. The moment she and I locked recognition of one and the other, excitement over our seeing each other in flesh took over with gusto. We wrapped ourselves in one another's arms and cried our best tears of joy. Reunion, after a thirty-year absence, was overwhelmingly sweet and packed-full of mixed emotions!
I found Fran, my buddy and closest of college friends, sitting with a worried look on her face at one of the quadrangle outdoor benches. Her used-to-be short wavy hair was no longer there; she instead sported a long straight hair, a style I did not imagine she preferred. I reckon time allowed for changes, in the same way her curvy slim figure had evolved into bulgy, weighty, fleshy stature. I was saddened to see her in that unhealthy-looking figure. I thought a body like that spelled out either lack of care or serious health challenges. Enough musing on what was and what is, I told myself. The moment she and I locked recognition of one and the other, excitement over our seeing each other in flesh took over with gusto. We wrapped ourselves in one another's arms and cried our best tears of joy. Reunion, after a thirty-year absence, was overwhelmingly sweet and packed-full of mixed emotions!
Respite
37 ...
Down Starmall Lane, along a laid back business center, my three haggard-looking friends and I climb up steep stairs to find respite at Banahaw Healing Center. Soon after purchasing service, we were led into a feet-washing room, an almost too dark a corner alley; one could not see well anything, but movements of their bodies like flickering shadows. Soon after, each of us was led to a faintly-lighted cubicle housing nothing more, but a single bench-like bed to lie on, a plastic bin to secure personal effects, and a hook to hang clothes. I wasn't sure of the body kneading I might get from my assigned masseuse, but I went along for the encounter. Soon, Filipina therapist Kris began to work her fingers and hands on my upper and lower back, applying long and short, but precise stroking and denting of my body pressure points. All hour-long session, I was comparing her work on my arms, my shoulders and legs with that of Shawn, my 'states-side' body therapist whose skill and expertise unbridingly soothed and healed my physical aches and pains with confidence. It was unfair I did put Kris and Shawn's work side by side. One charged $75.00, and the other a meager Php650.00, roughly $12.00, less tips. The therapy sessions had incomparably different indulgent healing effects on my wearied body. I was grateful that Shawn and Kris, coming from widely varied training experiences, were both able to comfort my battered physique!
Down Starmall Lane, along a laid back business center, my three haggard-looking friends and I climb up steep stairs to find respite at Banahaw Healing Center. Soon after purchasing service, we were led into a feet-washing room, an almost too dark a corner alley; one could not see well anything, but movements of their bodies like flickering shadows. Soon after, each of us was led to a faintly-lighted cubicle housing nothing more, but a single bench-like bed to lie on, a plastic bin to secure personal effects, and a hook to hang clothes. I wasn't sure of the body kneading I might get from my assigned masseuse, but I went along for the encounter. Soon, Filipina therapist Kris began to work her fingers and hands on my upper and lower back, applying long and short, but precise stroking and denting of my body pressure points. All hour-long session, I was comparing her work on my arms, my shoulders and legs with that of Shawn, my 'states-side' body therapist whose skill and expertise unbridingly soothed and healed my physical aches and pains with confidence. It was unfair I did put Kris and Shawn's work side by side. One charged $75.00, and the other a meager Php650.00, roughly $12.00, less tips. The therapy sessions had incomparably different indulgent healing effects on my wearied body. I was grateful that Shawn and Kris, coming from widely varied training experiences, were both able to comfort my battered physique!
Lost
36 ...
Waddling, he came through the gate and the front door. His eyes were glazed. His face flustered and pinkish red. His breath strongly reeked in cheap-smelling alcohol. He did not bother to extend a polite greeting towards everyone he came upon in the room; from the entry gate, he dashed through the front, and then the kitchen doors as if he had something to hide. You could tell he wished he were able to walk unnoticed through doors and among folks he lived with in the house. His guardian first mutely stood at sight; she did not expect a repeat of the going and coming home in drunken stupor. What followed next was a heated scolding ... one he wished he could have been spared because like other times, he knew he would wildly respond again in disrespectful demeanor. He did retort... yelling and expressing disgust over the child-like reprimand; all hell broke loose next. Arguments, accusations, and denials unleashed like one tornadic event, a repeat of repeats, just like it happened many times before. This was nothing different from all previous awkward exchanges of anger and disgust. What did he and she expect? They should have known that like all other times, alcoholic spirits taint civil dispositions.
Waddling, he came through the gate and the front door. His eyes were glazed. His face flustered and pinkish red. His breath strongly reeked in cheap-smelling alcohol. He did not bother to extend a polite greeting towards everyone he came upon in the room; from the entry gate, he dashed through the front, and then the kitchen doors as if he had something to hide. You could tell he wished he were able to walk unnoticed through doors and among folks he lived with in the house. His guardian first mutely stood at sight; she did not expect a repeat of the going and coming home in drunken stupor. What followed next was a heated scolding ... one he wished he could have been spared because like other times, he knew he would wildly respond again in disrespectful demeanor. He did retort... yelling and expressing disgust over the child-like reprimand; all hell broke loose next. Arguments, accusations, and denials unleashed like one tornadic event, a repeat of repeats, just like it happened many times before. This was nothing different from all previous awkward exchanges of anger and disgust. What did he and she expect? They should have known that like all other times, alcoholic spirits taint civil dispositions.
Servanthood
35 ...
Shortly after he wakes and does his morning hygienic rituals, he gets his stomach-fill of meager bread and some sort of spread, along with a cup of sugared coffee, and then he religiously embarks on his chores. Equipped with a rag, some disinfectant, and a pail of soapy water, he assumes an almost dutiful tidying, best he knows to do, of the bathroom his adoptive parent uses. Predictably, he finishes in exactly half an hour, and then he picks up a broom, sweeps the living space floor, and mops it. He swiftly moves on to the upkeep of the front and back outdoor spaces he shares with her. He is by no means a hired help in the household, but there he is ... day in and day out, assuming a role of servitude to her as if his feeding, his existence and his survival depended on whether or not chores were begun and completed to her scrutiny, satisfaction, and reward.
Shortly after he wakes and does his morning hygienic rituals, he gets his stomach-fill of meager bread and some sort of spread, along with a cup of sugared coffee, and then he religiously embarks on his chores. Equipped with a rag, some disinfectant, and a pail of soapy water, he assumes an almost dutiful tidying, best he knows to do, of the bathroom his adoptive parent uses. Predictably, he finishes in exactly half an hour, and then he picks up a broom, sweeps the living space floor, and mops it. He swiftly moves on to the upkeep of the front and back outdoor spaces he shares with her. He is by no means a hired help in the household, but there he is ... day in and day out, assuming a role of servitude to her as if his feeding, his existence and his survival depended on whether or not chores were begun and completed to her scrutiny, satisfaction, and reward.
Madonna&Child
34 ...
A ninety-year old woman charges his seventy year-old ward to supper; he quickly acts and pleasantly obliges her with an almost excited indulgence. She tells him to put on the table his place-setting, and to fill his plate with freshly made or yesterday's left-over rice; next, she spoon-serves into a bowl for him … a meager portion of the one-dish meal she took time to prepare. You could tell from his obligatory obedience to her prodding that this was an interaction long established. You could observe as well from the almost calculated movement and exchange of action-reaction that this was not only a rhythmic act, but one into which they have, in a long while, stepped into and perfectly danced.
A ninety-year old woman charges his seventy year-old ward to supper; he quickly acts and pleasantly obliges her with an almost excited indulgence. She tells him to put on the table his place-setting, and to fill his plate with freshly made or yesterday's left-over rice; next, she spoon-serves into a bowl for him … a meager portion of the one-dish meal she took time to prepare. You could tell from his obligatory obedience to her prodding that this was an interaction long established. You could observe as well from the almost calculated movement and exchange of action-reaction that this was not only a rhythmic act, but one into which they have, in a long while, stepped into and perfectly danced.
Friday, April 17, 2015
Dirt-Shock
33 ...
You could easily survey with your eyes the entire house you arrive into and tell that its occupants either have turned their eyes blind on its upkeep or simply did not have respectable care for the place you loaned them as home for a good nine years almost. You could quickly spot the built up stains on the walls everywhere. Especially annoying with this ‘eye-walk’ are the spattered stains and marks you could not miss (from who knows where they came from), and the grime around the kitchen sink, the tiled counters surrounding it, and the splatter areas where an old stove and mini cookers sit. You could not likewise miss the almost diminished caulking between tile work, now replaced by an utterly ugly mix of dirt and grease. You almost do not want your skin to get nowhere near it thinking it might send you to your sickbed. You make it a point to slug that scene off, and then you force your eyes to roam somewhere else, but they anyway end up scrutinizing ledges all around the now vacant space thick with dust; aged dust, that is, which almost appears as if it were an intentional paint design now. Windows into which you look have the same sorry lot. Seeing through it is a chore because of the barrier stamp, cloud-like, and permanently-etched film that found its niche there for good. Cupboards and cabinets, where they stand, have the same unspeakable state of neglect and abuse. Worse … and far-sickening than all you’ve found is your discovery of a 'corner roach motel' at the top-most part of a wardrobe drawer, along with far settled inch-thick dust. You could almost understand the meaningless question constructs ofWhy's, or How’s this battered condition of the house came to be. You might as well drop the search for answers to utter neglect you encounter. You best not even ask. If you want to use again this house you find in bleak care and disarray, you best get boldly committed to work with your energy boosters and hands. Realize too that the chore ahead does take time to accomplish!
You could easily survey with your eyes the entire house you arrive into and tell that its occupants either have turned their eyes blind on its upkeep or simply did not have respectable care for the place you loaned them as home for a good nine years almost. You could quickly spot the built up stains on the walls everywhere. Especially annoying with this ‘eye-walk’ are the spattered stains and marks you could not miss (from who knows where they came from), and the grime around the kitchen sink, the tiled counters surrounding it, and the splatter areas where an old stove and mini cookers sit. You could not likewise miss the almost diminished caulking between tile work, now replaced by an utterly ugly mix of dirt and grease. You almost do not want your skin to get nowhere near it thinking it might send you to your sickbed. You make it a point to slug that scene off, and then you force your eyes to roam somewhere else, but they anyway end up scrutinizing ledges all around the now vacant space thick with dust; aged dust, that is, which almost appears as if it were an intentional paint design now. Windows into which you look have the same sorry lot. Seeing through it is a chore because of the barrier stamp, cloud-like, and permanently-etched film that found its niche there for good. Cupboards and cabinets, where they stand, have the same unspeakable state of neglect and abuse. Worse … and far-sickening than all you’ve found is your discovery of a 'corner roach motel' at the top-most part of a wardrobe drawer, along with far settled inch-thick dust. You could almost understand the meaningless question constructs ofWhy's, or How’s this battered condition of the house came to be. You might as well drop the search for answers to utter neglect you encounter. You best not even ask. If you want to use again this house you find in bleak care and disarray, you best get boldly committed to work with your energy boosters and hands. Realize too that the chore ahead does take time to accomplish!
Tub-Crime
32 ...
At the end of a grueling day, nothing is more soothing to a weary body than a warm water bath. You almost dream about such an experience. Not this very night though. Tonight, you would have to tolerate the built-up grime on the bathtub's wall and bed, along with its creepy, ugly and sickening splendor, 'ad nauseum'. Tonight, you also get to make do with much worse - a smelly, cold and muddled water flow from the spigot! A dual crime plot like that, by all measure, is the worst crime you could impose on someone's body and soul after almost twenty seven thousand miles of tiresome air travel.
At the end of a grueling day, nothing is more soothing to a weary body than a warm water bath. You almost dream about such an experience. Not this very night though. Tonight, you would have to tolerate the built-up grime on the bathtub's wall and bed, along with its creepy, ugly and sickening splendor, 'ad nauseum'. Tonight, you also get to make do with much worse - a smelly, cold and muddled water flow from the spigot! A dual crime plot like that, by all measure, is the worst crime you could impose on someone's body and soul after almost twenty seven thousand miles of tiresome air travel.
Impact
31 ...
Indeed, a house is not a home. It simply is a structure that provides protection from weather-related elements, and man-made life threats. After a tiresome flight from US west to Asia east, you come to such a house which used to be your very own little abode, in the heart of Metro Manila. Though somewhat clutter-cleared now, the numerous wall cracks, rusty window grill stains, scratches and dents, wear-and-tear aging, grime and filth build-up could no longer hide. The house, now almost rid of immaterial family-collected possessions, stands empty, yet its lack of common sense care or total neglect slams at you, gawks at you, and hits you hard down in your stomach pit.
Indeed, a house is not a home. It simply is a structure that provides protection from weather-related elements, and man-made life threats. After a tiresome flight from US west to Asia east, you come to such a house which used to be your very own little abode, in the heart of Metro Manila. Though somewhat clutter-cleared now, the numerous wall cracks, rusty window grill stains, scratches and dents, wear-and-tear aging, grime and filth build-up could no longer hide. The house, now almost rid of immaterial family-collected possessions, stands empty, yet its lack of common sense care or total neglect slams at you, gawks at you, and hits you hard down in your stomach pit.
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