AN IDYLLIC PLACE TO UNWIND

I heard people say, before you travel out of the country, make an effort to visit the good places and the tourist spots the Philippines can boast of. I thought it was just a call for Filipinos to be patriotic and to nurture nationalism in everyone’s spirit. But after our Palawan trip, the Philippine islands can be compared or even surpassing the beauty and allure of Bali, Indonesia or Phuket, Thailand, or the famous beach resorts in Malaysia.

I’ve been to several far flung places in the Philippines, the ones that are miles away from the hustle and bustle of a city life, but I guess, nothing beats Palawan for me. Yes, it is a paradise in the truest sense of the word, and yet I was only able to conquer a portion of what the place can offer more, the reason – time constraint. Whoever said that Palawan is more popularly known to foreigners as an island than the Philippines as a country is very true. They didn’t know that Palawan is part and is in the Philippines. They weren’t aware that such an idyllic haven can be found in the Philippines, a country they identified only as a nation reeking with poverty, mountains of garbage, filth and stench.

What makes Palawan paradisiacal - the islands are unspoilt, the beaches are crystal clear, you can see with your naked eye the marine creatures living a life of non-disturbance. The coral reefs are abundant. The first time, I’ve seen fishes literally flying out of the sea as if playing and racing with the other fellow fish. The beach sand are white and very fine that they almost tickle your tired feet when you walk through them. The islands also housed thick mountains and you can see them at the background. A great opportunity for trekkers or hikers who want to explore the enchanting life in the woods. The trip in the famous caves are enthralling and awesome. In all honesty, Palawan is fortunately an experience very close to nature. No wonder, local and foreign tourists flock to this place despite its limited accessibility. Because the experience in Palawan is a once in a lifetime moment for me, and I was hypnotized by the breathtaking view unfolding right before my very eyes, I vowed to be a steward in preserving the pristine beauty of nature because these are priceless gifts from high above.

Try to get the high, and you’ll see what I mean.

TAKE A CUE: I KISSED DATING GOODBYE

I have read the book “I Kissed Dating Goodbye” by Joshua Harris. The title caught my attention, so I set aside the other books I was reading then. I started by flipping through the pages, scanning and reading portions of it, before I knew it, I was already reading the book from cover to cover.

Frankly, I almost fell in love with the author, he’s the kind of guy I had in mind all these years. Precisely, the reason why I can’t force myself to quickly plunge into a romantic relationship with someone; looking and wishing that a godly man would truly make my heart stop a bit and sigh. If only all men and women have the same attitude as the author’s about romance and relationships, the world would be impeccably lived, a God-centered and godly ruled world.

Although, I find Harris' recommendations on dating a little strict, too serious and straight to the hilt, still I couldn't help agreeing to most of his insights and rationale about going deeper into dating without the so-called COMMITTED INTIMACY. Truly, this is a christian’s point of view about relationships, and though it appears to be too self righteous, I would admit the guy makes sense. His views are politically correct. Though, dating should be perceived as a joyful moment between two people attracted to one another, (in a heterosexual relationship), the author, sort of stripped the joys, the fun and thrills of dating. Picture this, if I am invited as a speaker to tackle about relationships before an audience of teen-agers and young adults as my listeners and I start proclaiming to them to avoid dating unless they’re sure they want the relationship to blossom and eventually lead to a marriage; chances are, I will be booed, thrown out and booted out of the hall or room. Harris was saying, don’t date just for the mere sake of doing it or just for the mere fun of it because you would fall into the pit of “sinful dating.” Indeed, he’s right, current times had changed the idea of dating. It has become a prelude to sexual intimacy and sexual exploration. The “getting to know you better stage” or friendship stage has been downgraded to a physical intimacy and a popular contest for conquest especially for guys. Harris has an apt term for it, "premature intimacy."

I believe dating should give one the opportunity to explore the person in and out and see whether a possible chemistry will click and lead on to something. Dating should give birth to the feeling of inexplicable joy, of being loved and respected. It should be entered into only by two god-fearing individuals who are responsible and mature. The so-called "premature intimacy" more often than not leads to pre-marital sex or an experimentation of bottled up urges. Call me a prude or old fashioned but I tend to agree with the author on this observation. Making it out or sex outside marriage must be avoided if one can. Indeed, it is the ultimate consummation of one’s feelings of love, an expression of absolute surrender to pent up physical urges. But still, for me, physical intimacy consummated under the blanket of marriage seals the union solidly. Women must regard their bodies as sacred and if men respect women they will not dare try to tamper and play with something sacred even if they’re already engaged. If people hear me say this, they will take it with a grain of salt and might say, “Excuse me, what planet did you come from, this is earth.” Exactly, this is earth and sadly we are sometimes overcome by earthly desires and concerns, the principle that giving in to the call of the flesh is gratifying. If this is everyone’s mantra, then we surely are doing God a great disservice.

Back to dating, going out to as many dates as one pleases because s/he wants to find out her/his match is a misconception too. Too many hurts and pitfalls will just pile up, making one a restless soul in search of a match longed for. Harris is trying to illustrate that one may have only dated once and eventually hit it off to marriage. Surely, if this happens, love is unravelled, a love that is pure as the author calls it and guided by God’s divinity.

Harris attributes a blissful marriage to a responsible handling and outlook of the dating phenomena. It is right to say that when two people had finally found each other and decided to get married, it is wise to look at marriage as more than just a wedding ceremony. No one can equate a grand wedding to a successful marriage, one can have a very simple one but an eternal one. I believe, the solemnity and the holiness of the matrimony (union) must be the utmost goal of every couple, that is the vow and the covenant they swear to God to preserve and abide by it according to His prescriptions.

As for single people, Harris is correct in saying that marriage is not the be-all and end all of life. It is not the finished line as he describes it. Singleness is not a punishment nor a stigma. Unfortunately, society perceives single people as a mystifying individuals, a wonderment but lonely human beings. Some regard singleness with disdain. Perhaps, it’s high time that people have an open mind to look at singleness as rather a blessing than a burden. Though, for others, singleness may be an option and a choice, some choose to wait (even if it takes forever) for the right man to come along. Waiting for the right man is a myth, a better word would be a good man or a godly man as the author calls it. For single people, especially women, they shouldn’t preoccupied themselves with getting hitched and catch the last train as the saying goes, even if they’re not ready just because their biological clocks are ticking. Getting hitched, get married and start a family is the perceived full circle life for most women, a longing and a desire that must be fulfilled. But this may not be God’s grand design for single women or unattached women.

We may not have the power to discern God’s plan for making our lives follow a different path (singleness) as opposed from the society’s norms but it is heavenly to know that God’s plan will be the best for us. If only we could practice the virtue of Patience and Submission. Patience is genius. Submission is faith. Perhaps, God wants us to focus our hearts on HIM first above anyone else. Perhaps, God intends to show us the complexity of a married life and perhaps, when the time comes that we get into that situation too, God prods us to right the wrongs and mistakes of marriage thus sparing us from further sufferings and pain. There are many perhaps that one might think of, but I believe the anxiety of some single people longing for a romantic relationship will be pacified only if they would learn to completely trust God. This trust will give them peace and joy whether they're married or not (yet) or dateless. After all, God created us to fulfill our special purpose on earth and not to insist on doing what we have programmed for our lives which are not in accord to His will.

The author's ideas on dating, courtship and marriage were focused on God. Yes, the prescriptions he enumerated were a tough act to follow. Short of saying, easier said than done, huh. He went on to the nitty gritty of dating such as the dress code, not too daring or revealing for girls, the behavior and attitude one must employ when dealing with friends of the opposite sex, etc. This book should be read by the young generation of today who might have adopted a distorted perception of dating, courtship and marriage brought about by the changing times. I guess, we should now reconsider these issues based on God’s point of view and not rely on our obscure and misconstrued ideas on the expression of love.

Harris exhorts everyone especially the youngsters to follow the rules of dating as he has prescribed, and making God first and foremost the center of the budding relationship. As I’ve said the author’s christian views on relationship is like a big and hard pill to swallow, but nevertheless, it is heartening to know that the ultimate reward gives a pure and lasting love that will never go astray.

[ A godly husband nurtures his wife, loves her, respects her and protects her.]

HOLY WEEK REFLECTIONS : OF LOVING THE MAN

As a child, I knew that Jesus Christ had died for our sins. That through His death we were saved. It was just a mere fact to me. Nothing so much of an impact in my personal being. But it was only in my adult years that I realized what He had gone through, his unbearable pain and sufferings and the humiliation He endured to fulfill God’s divine plan.

I have seen films and heard narratives about the life of Jesus aired especially during Lenten season. The story being told and retold about His passion, death and resurrection. And yes, they will melt your heart for you would see the overflowing love which He had shown for humankind. Then came the Passion of the Christ, the movie, which I have waited with anticipation. Frankly, as christians, we already know His story but what sets apart the movie was the depiction of His agony and how He was brutally scourged to death. The violence and the bloody whipping was so gory that I find it revolting and hellish. I asked myself what kind of a human being could do such a thing to another man, why the cruelty? Is man really capable of such a despicable act. It was unbelievable but it happened. Yes, the vivid portrayal of His agony made my tear ducts active with tears of pity and compunction, and my heart became heavy with sorrow. I know everyone who loves and adores the Man will likely experience what I had felt then.

The film was able to show how Mama Mary had witnessed it all. We know how heartbreaking it is to see someone you so dearly loved being humiliated in the face of so many people watching and slowly killing what to you is your flesh and blood. But we can never get a full grasp of the depth and enormity of pain that Mama Mary had felt then. My deep admiration goes for the woman. The inner strength and the showing of great faith she had for God despite her own agony. Talking about complete submission to the will of God.

Those of us who have watched the movie, what now? Did we see it for curiosity’s sake. I hope not. This is one religious film that should shake and wake us all, regardless of creed and religion. We have one thing in common here, our love for the Man we have neglected and abandoned many times in our lives because of our weaknesses and transgressions. Sometimes, I vowed that I would love Him forever, but in truth I don’t know how to love HIM, (remember the song of Mary Magdalene in Jesus Christ, Superstar). I don’t know how to please and love HIM because one way or another I always fall into the trap of sinfulness. I may not have the crimes of Hitler, Stalin, etc. but I am still a sinner and I know everyone is. I don’t know how to love HIM because I am not sure how I should I love HIM back; because the pure and unconditional love that He readily offers despite my imperfections is too much of a prize for me. But that truth is like a balm in my heart that lifts my spirit.

A lot of you may have asked how we could love Jesus. Perhaps, the so-called Fraternity of Kindness started by a pious nun could initiate the changes we want for ourselves for the love of the Man, we adore. In one of her meditations, she says, “if all unkindness will be eliminated from our lives, earth would be almost heaven and so she gave the rules: (1) Not to think unkindly of others; (2) Not to speak unkindly of others; and (3) Not to act unkindly toward others.

I know the Passion of the Christ would not be for naught, if we really start putting HIM in the very core of our heart and mind and let our souls follow His goodness. It won't’ be easy because we live in a very materialistic world, the thing that pushes us farther away from HIM and constrain us to do all sort of sinful ways. Let us try to do away with the evil ways of this earthly life, and remember the sacred blood that Christ had shed and the indescribable pain that He had endured for the love of man. Please remember that the wounds that Jesus Christ had received on His body were Five Thousand Four hundred Fifty five (5,455). Would we like to add more to that pain and suffering? Let us find this Holy Week the most meaningful one. Prayers to you and may the love of God always fill our hearts.

Addendum:

The Fifteen (15) Secret Tortures and Sufferings of Our Lord Jesus Christ

Jesus said, “The Jews considered Me as the most wretched man living on earth so that is why: (1) They fastened My feet with a rope and dragged Me over the stepping stones of the staircase down into a filthy, nauseating cellar. (2) They took off My clothing and stung My body with iron joints. (3) They attached a rope around My body and pulled me along on the ground, from end to end. (4) They hanged Me on a wooden piece with a slipknot until I slipped out and fell down. Overwhelmed by this torture, I wept bloody tears. (5) They tied Me to a post and pierced My body with various arms. (6) They struck Me with stones and burnt Me with blazing embers and torches. (7) They pierced Me with awls; sharp spears tore My skin, flesh and arteries out of My body. (8) They tied Me to a post and made Me stand, barefoot, on an incandescent metal sheet. (9) They crowned Me with an iron crown and wrapped My eyes with the dirtiest possible rags. (10) They made Me sit on a chair covered with sharp pointed nails, causing deep wounds in My body. (11) They poured on My wounds liquid resin and, after this torture, they pressed Me on the nailed chair, so that the nails went deeper and deeper into My flesh. (12) For shame and affliction, they drove needles into the holes of My uprooted beard. Then they tied My hands behind my back and led me walking out of prison with strikes and blows. (13) They threw Me upon a cross and attached Me so tightly that I could hardly breathe anymore. (14) They threw at My head as I lay on the earth. And they stepped on Me, hurting My breast. Then taking a thorn from My crown they drove it into My tongue. (15) They poured into my mouth the most immodest excretions, as they uttered the most infamous expressions about Me. (As revealed by the pious, God loving Sister Mary Magdalen of the Santa Clara, Franciscan, who lived, died and was beatified in Rome).

Jesus said: “I have a most painful wound on my shoulders as I carried the cross on the bitter way to Calvary, which pained me more than did my other wounds, but which was never known because it was never seen. Do honor this wound in your prayers and I will give anything you ask through the merits of this same wound. And all who will venerate from me the remission of this wound will obtain their sins, and I will no longer remember the mortal sins they have committed and already forgotten. (Jesus Christ), as revealed by St. Bernard in Clairvaux, France.

Prayer: O dearest Jesus, Lamb of God, most meek, I, a miserable sinner, render homage and worship to the wounds upon Thy shoulder made by the heavy cross. Thou didst carry. Its weight tore Thy flesh and bared Thy shoulder bones, which caused Thee sufferings more than did Thy other wounds… I adore Thee, O grieving Jesus, I praise, thank Thee for Thy adorable and most painful wound. Vouch safe to grant me, through the excessive pain and unmeasured weight of the cross to have mercy on me a sinner. Forgive me my mortals and venial sins, and guide me on to heaven through the way of cross. Amen.

The Bangkok Experience

It’s quite an experience for me. Actually, when I arrived from Bangkok everyone who knew I’ve been to that place had one common question, “How’s Bangkok”?, to which I would reply, It’s like you’ve never gone out of the Philippines, except that you don’t see jeepneys plying in the streets with drivers driving like kings of the roads, and also except for one important thing, Thais don’t speak english. This I had a hard time communicating with them, and I guess I was not alone, the language barrier was indeed a great dilemma for all of us who wanted to ask more and wanted to know more. Friends who’ve been to Bangkok had already told me what Bangkok looks like, so I expected it to have a Philippine-like scenario. But nevertheless, the brief respite was worth it and it was fun for me and my Mom. We’ve got to observe life firsthand in Thailand, i.e. their way of life, the people, the infrastructures, their traditions and some shocking discoveries.

I hate going into a new place or trekking to a new endeavour without any basic information or orientation of what I would be going through. I thanked my travel agent who had been very patient with me entertaining all my queries and carefully outlined to me the things I must do upon arrival and upon leaving Bangkok territory. Friends and relatives recommended names of places that we must visit and must-see. I’ve listed the names of the places, like Pratunam, Chatujac, Maboonkrong (or known as MBK), Nayanarapan, day safari, etc. and some other names which I can’t remember and had only twisted my tongue. We stayed at Baiyoke Suite Hotel (pronounced as Bayok suite) which was right in the heart of the action, the market place, where cheap goods abound.

We arrived at the Bangkok airport at around 5 pm, (March 12, 2004, Philippine time - 6 pm, we’re 1 hour ahead of them), we proceeded directly to the immigration line and upon presentment of our passports, the Thai officer in the window looked at me, Mom behind me, for about 10 seconds as if sizing me up. He wasn’t saying anything and I was just looking at him and waiting, then he showed me two white forms, which were disembarkation cards, so I asked him, “we have to fill this up first” and I didn’t get a reply, so I thought, “is this the way they greet their visitors.” So I left the line, Mom in tow and saw the burly military like officer wearing I guess, a police uniform, and approached him and asked, “where do we fill this up?”, he said something which I didn’t understand and sounded Japanese to me but led us to a table. He checked on us every now and then and pointing to me the blanks which I forgot to fill out. After that off we went and thanked the officer. We were about to leave the immigration area, when we’re blocked again in the counter. The man showed me a piece of white paper, so I said, “where do we get that form?” again no answer but just pointed to me where the forms were. The forms were required to be filled out because it just wanted to know whether you have something to declare or none in your luggages. So again I took time to fill out the forms.

It was a long walk out of the immigration area. We don’t know were we’re going but we just walked and followed the crowd. At last, I saw my name together with the other names written in a piece of bond paper, being flashed and waved in the air. I asked the girl if she’s our guide and she nodded and instructed us to take our seats first while we wait for the others. This one spoke english although a pidgin kind of english, and even if she does, the pronounciation was quite hard to understand. I later learned her name was Noy.

We boarded a van, we’re 7, all Filipinos. First thing I noticed, the van was right hand driven. It was a 45-minute straight drive from the airport going to our hotel. While inside the van, one of our companions handed a 30 dollar bill to Noy, I was intrigued and curious so I asked her what the 30 dollar bill was for. She said they had already contracted the guide to bring them to a certain place, called Rose Garden which was outside Bangkok. They were told the place was also a must see place. The lady and her husband who is a doctor at East Avenue Hospital at Quezon City had been to Bangkok several times already. The wife was once an employee of the Thai Airways and now retired but they kept on coming back to Bangkok for business and pleasure. They said they had established a restaurant with Thai menu somewhere at the back of the Heart Center in Quezon City. They now have 3 branches and they kept coming back to Bangkok to buy some stuff for their restaurant and to assist and guide some relatives and friends who wanted to go to Bangkok. They taught us some Thai words. The good couple knew a lot about Thai life. We also got to compare Thailand and the Philippines, that’s where we become sort of sentimental and emotional. We had a serious discussion and it only left us wondering and asking, “what happened to the Philippines?” We knew the answers already. We saw the progress going on in Thailand, we have read how this country had survived to get out of the mess and we were impressed how they have managed to become debt free and finally disentangled themselves from the IMF. The Philippines is a model for Thailand, I was told, all their flyovers and MRT’s were patterned after our country. That’s why traversing the highway is like you’re in your home country because the resemblance is so obvious, minus of course, the squatters alongside. Now, Thailand is starting to build a subway.

It was already dark when we arrived at our hotel but the place was still bustling with activity. The place is called Pratunam. All establishments and market stalls were still lighted up. Baiyoke Suite has 43 floors. The lobby was located at the 5th floor, so we were ushered to go there first to get our room no. and room key. We were also given our food stubs for American buffet breakfast for 3 days. We had befriended two young Filipino ladies who were also billeted in this hotel who later became our sparring partners. We told each other to keep in touch for our activities tomorrow. They were given Room 314 and ours was 318. We boarded the elevator and pressed 3rd floor. Someone in the elevator saw our room keys and told us that we’re supposed to go to 31st floor. I argued that our room key says 318, so I assumed it would be in the 3rd floor and Room 318 but she explained to me that it meant 31st floor, room 8. First lesson learned, huh. It would be otherwise in the Philippines.

Our room was big and we could almost see the whole city from where we were. Rested for awhile, then decided to go down for a brief stroll and find food. There were still a lot of people of different nationalities roaming the streets. The noisy Tuctucs were freely plying in the streets. (Tuctucs are like tricycles only bigger with a riding capacity of 5 to 7 people). I was carefully scanning the place and trying to remember some landmarks so we wouldn’t get lost when we return to the hotel. Mom wanted to eat rice, as for me I could eat anything. We saw foodcarts stationed at the sides of the busy street. Various type of viands and vegetables were on display with soup but we couldn’t figure out what they were and how they would taste, and the food had this pungent smell and they were kinda irritating to my senses. I remembered my tourmate once said, it smelled like “kaning baboy.” Thais love spicy foods and I am not very fond of it. All the carts sell the same type of food but they all look strange to me. I would ask if it was pork or chicken, but definitely no chicken for us (unless you want bird flu), that, they understand, so they would say, pok (for pork). We passed by several foodcarts, and we ended up buying at 7-11 store and bought 2 siopao and mineral water. Besides, when it comes to food, I want it covered and hygienic. Who wants to buy food displayed in all its splendid glory exposed to dust and all types of virus and bacteria hovering in the air, but to the Thai people these were not their concerns. I didn’t see Mcdonald’s or any fastfood restaurants in the area but I was told they were a little farther from our place. By the way, Pratunam is like Divisoria.

The second day was scheduled for a half day city tour, which would be from 8 to 12 pm. The buffet breakfast was served from 6 – 10 am, food area was located at the 43rd floor. We took our breakfast early at 6:45. It was cold from the top. We thanked God, the food was recognizable. Mom feasted on fruits. I don’t know why it was called American buffet, it wasn’t, it was more of an Asian buffet. The only thing I saw identified with the American food were the pancakes and hotdogs, nothing more. Pancake was badly cooked, it was hard. Anyway, the rest of the food was good. I ate fried rice and vegetables. I prohibited Mom from taking any chicken food, better be careful than sorry. Told Mom to just get little servings of each so she could taste everything. But it occurred to me that tomorrow and the day after tomorrow, these foods will be served again, so I wouldn’t mind letting go of some of the stuff I wanted to eat. I was right, for three consecutive days, we were served the same food, except for the third day, our last day in the hotel, there was “pansit bihon”, but it tasted bland, not like our pansit here. But the fruits served were all sweet and juicy. We were always led to a reserved table. The walls of the dining room were glass and we were always seated near the glass walls so we got a good glimpse of the top view of the whole city of Bangkok.

At 8:00 a.m. (March 13, 2004), we all met at the lobby. We rode in a van again. Our itinerary, the Temple of the Golden Buddha, the Reclining Buddha, Genuine Leather factory where products were made of stingray skin, elephant skin, snake skin, and crocodile skin and the last stop would be the jewelry factory. On our way to these places, Noy, our lady tour guide, was giving us a lecture about the places we’re going to visit. Gave us a brief introduction about Thailand. I learned that Thailand has a population of 65 million people and majority (70%) are Buddhists, about 20% Muslims, and only 2% are Christians. I informed her that the Philippines has about 85 million people and still growing and she asked why, so I said “Oh, Filipinos just love to produce kids,” simplest explanation, I guess. I asked her too why all the cars here are right hand driven. She very well explained that the first car brought in this country was from UK. One of my tourmates asked, why majority of them don’t speak english because she complained it was hard talking to them. The guide acknowledged their weakness but told us that it is now compulsory in their education curriculum to teach english. I asked about their handwriting, they look arabic to us and worse most of the street signs and signboards do not have english translation or english counterpart. It would be tough if you get lost in this country. Imagine, people won’t understand you and you’ll feel like an idiot walking aimlessly because you don’t know where you are and cant’ read the signs and street names, because they were all written in Thai calligraphy.

Along the way we saw the Thai-Chinese community, which is like the Binondo area in the Philippines. We reached the Golden Buddha Temple, the most famous temple in Thailand. It was made of pure gold and weigh 500 tons, it’s 700 years old. I asked the guide how do we make an offer. I just wanted to have a “feel” of it. She asked me to buy the offerings for 20 Baht (that is about P28.50) which consisted of a flower, 3 incense candles and 3 pieces of gold paper. She instructed me how I would go about it and after the offering one can make a wish for as many as one wants. Then we went inside the Temple with no shoes on and took pictures. There were so many tourists inside taking pictures. Once inside, I asked my tour mate to make a little scrap from the arm of the Buddha then make a ring out of it. She laughed and said, “kung sa Pilipinas yan, ninakaw na yan.” Next we went to the reclining Buddha, then to the leather factory and jelwelry factory. The products were a bit expensive. I always had with me my mini calculator, converting the baht to peso, that way I would know how much cheaper or expensive the item was. In the jewelry store, Mom got frustrated because the items were so expensive and she wanted to buy a ring for Dad. I just told her that we could buy outside where items may be much cheaper. The reason they were expensive was because they have gems and stones. I too, was almost at the verge of buying one item for myself which cost around 5000 pesos, but the Filipina beside me dissuaded me from buying it telling me it’s quite expensive and very simple, that I should instead buy in Bulacan where designs are much better and at a lesser price. I think she was right so I dismissed the plan. Of course, we talked in Tagalog and the saleslady was just looking at us, perhaps studying us. But in fairness, the salesladies were courteous and not very persistent and always wearing a smile on their faces.

When the half-day city tour was over, we were told that we can go on our own, the rest of the day was ours to conquer. Before our guide left, I manifested to her our interest for a day Safari tour for tomorrow (March 14, 2004, Sunday) but I asked for a discount. The fee was 1,200 Baht (around P1,710.00) per head. I told her to give us a discount then we’ll be in. Free buffet lunch was included in that fee. After awhile, she called me and whispered to me that she was giving it at 1,100 Baht (around P1,568.00) per head only because of Mom and told me never to tell anyone about the discount. I was pushing my luck if she could give it at 1,000 Baht, but told me it was already a good offer, so we decided to give in and paid her. She gave me a piece of paper to acknowledge receipt of the payment and told us to meet the guide at the lobby at 8:00 a.m. tom., Sunday. After the day tour the van was supposed to bring us back to our hotel but we begged-off and asked that we be brought to Chatujac. We were asked to board a taxi instead which will bring us to Chatujac market but taxis were nowhere to be seen. I saw a Mercedez benz parked outside the jewelry lobby so I kid Noy, our guide, if I could use the Benz instead. Asked me if I know how to drive, and told her I might drive it recklessly because it’s right handed. Come to think of it, if left hand driven cars always stay at the right side of the road (nanganganan), right hand driven vehicles always stay at the left side of the road (nangangaliwa), isn’t it a bit confusing. I told Mom everything here in Thailand is “baligtad”, everything is in reverse. The first time I opened the faucet in the bathroom in our hotel, I was doing it clockwise, which is the way we do it here in the Philippines. But I later learned that you’re supposed to open it counterclockwise.

Anyway, we together with a tourmate, rode a taxi and told the driver that we be brought to Chatujac. My tourmate’s companion had other plans because she was supposed to meet a friend who was also in Bangkok, so she stayed with us. Chatujac for me was like the Central Market in Quiapo and Cartimar in Pasay City combined. All sorts of merchandise were there. This is the place where you could buy packed foods for “pasalubongs. They were much cheaper here than buying them in department stores. Everytime I wanted something, I make a bargain. Haggling is my game. But again, the language barrier would always be the problem but I got used to talking to them in sign language. I resolved to myself that we will understand each other by all means. So, either I asked for a piece of paper and a ballpen or a calculator. It was kinda weird and funny talking and communicating that way but I won’t give up on them not understanding me. There were others who understood and speak little english, only then could we heave a sigh of relief. Haggling takes time, I would ask how much, or how many baht, then they would write the price in a piece of paper, say 150 baht, then I would write back, cross out the 150 then check 120 baht. If they agree, then the bargain was made. If they don’t, I leave. We do the same trick with the calculator. We could only smile and shake our heads with what we’re doing but at least we can communicate now.

The weather was wearing us down, it was very humid. Before we further move around the market, we decided to have our lunch first. I was looking for a nice good place to eat, but found none. Mom was hungry and my tourmate was a cowboy and I don’t wanna be accused of being “pasosyal.” So we settled for a small “carinderia” type eatery. The food was displayed outside, various type of viands and soups which were all unfamiliar to us and there was that smell again. I saw an omellete, asked her what was inside of it, pork or chicken, and she said, “pok” so I said give me one. She got a plate and lo and behold, the shock of my life came, she used her hand, bare hand and picked up the omellete, (dinaklot is the proper word) like she was picking up an object and put it in a plate. There was a spoon in the omelette plate but she didn’t use it. I was stunned and couldn’t utter a word for what she did, I wanted to ask her why she did that but what’s the use, she wouldn’t understand me, anyway. I know the act was not done to offend me, it was just simply a way of life for them, it was how they do it. I imagined the woman holding all sorts of things, like money, rags, and what have you and then the thought of touching the omelette just like that made me cringe. I don’t even know if she washed her hands before she served me the omellete. I told this to Mom and friend and they both laughed. My tourmate got the surprise of her life too when after ordering the food of her choice, which she was unfamiliar with, it was scooped up and placed right on top of her plate with the rice. In the Philippines, the service would be different, the viand with the soup will be put in a separate small bowl. The fork and spoon will be wrapped in a napkin. We didn’t order water or juice, I brought with me mineral water. These people got no breeding when it comes to hygiene and no manners in serving food to customers. They should learn a thing or two from the way Filipinos do it specially when it comes to food service. I noticed too that the electric fan above was already covered with black soot and dust and it was directly hitting our food. After eating, we left immediately and continued our gallivanting.

Next stop we went to Maboonkrong (or MBK). The Shoemart of Thailand. It was a big mall. Upon entering, there was a reception area. I asked the well dressed lady in the reception area, where the jewelry store was. She just stared at me with open mouth. So, I said, “the jewelry store”, then extended my left arm and showed her my bracelet. It was only then that I was understood and showed us the way. My tourmate asked for the grocery store, again no reply from the lady, so I said, “the food, where you buy food,” I don’t know what happened coz’ we left already and proceeded to the jewelry store. There, Mom got to buy the jewelry items she wanted at a reasonable price. I too got one for myself, which was a pair of earrings. The haggling and talking was done through the help of the ever reliable calculator. My tourmate went to the grocery section and told her to meet us in the jewelry store.

Back to Pratunam, we bought food first then proceeded back to our hotel rooms. We invited our tourmates to eat with us in our room, we had a little chat and discussion about our observations of the Thai people and their way of life. I mentioned again about the kind of food service, and my tourmate said, the only thing they don’t touch with their bare hands was cooking oil. Even the halo-halo being peddled in the streets were scooped up through their bare hands, I don’t know if that was true but that was what they saw and told me. We got our food from the 7-11 store, just bought a loaf of bread. I had brought with me 3 tuna cans which I bought at Shopwise, Makati before going to Bangkok. The problem was we don’t have a can opener. I dialed the housekeeping and requested for a can opener. The people there didn’t get me, so I was referred to the lobby/operator. So I said, “I need a can opener, do you have a can opener,” to which the person on the other line said, “there‘s one in the bathroom.” So I replied, “No, that’s a bottle opener, I need a can opener,” there was silence on the phone, they don’t seem to know what a can opener was, after a few minutes, the operator said, “go to the 43rd floor (which was the dining area). I thanked the operator and hung up. The following morning, (Sunday), when we went up to the 43rd floor for our buffet breakfast, I brought with me my tuna wrapped in a plastic. I asked the waiter if they have a can opener, I got no answer but instead he got my plastic and he opened it and when he saw the can of tuna, it was only then that he understood what I needed. I told Mom that they don’t know what a can opener was.

Sunday, (March 14, 2004), we were scheduled to go to the Safari tour, and met our guide at the lobby. We were 7 Filipinos and 6 Indians all cramped up in the van. We were all picked up in our respective hotels. It was a 45 minute drive from Pratunam. When we arrived, we rode in a bus and was toured around the open zoo. Then watched the orangutan show, the sea lion show, the dolphin and beluga show, then the cowboy show and lastly the James Bond show, the two latter events were both live shows with Thai actors and actresses. We had a wonderful time, but the walking to and fro was a bit tiring and the weather was very humid, we were all sweating profusely. It was a whole day affair, so we were back at the hotel at around past 5 pm.

Mom was tired already after the day safari tour but I told her that we should start buying stuff now for tomorrow, Monday, we will have a limited time already as we will be packing our things and would leave the hotel at 12 pm for the airport. We took a rest for a few minutes. I noticed that there were new beddings again. Everyday, the housekeeper would change our bedcovers. Suddenly, I remembered my wooden rosary which was kept under my pillow. I panicked at the thought of losing it. I inspected my bag and couldn’t find it. I immediately dialed the housekeeping again. I guess, I’ve already left an imprint on the housekeeping staff because I constantly call them. I said I was at room 318 and I just want to know if they happened to see a wooden rosary hidden under my pillow when someone changed the beddings. The person I was talking to couldn’t quite understand me, and just told me, “send somebody.” In a little while, someone was at the door, a guy walked in our room, and told him what I was looking for. I asked him if he saw my rosary, told him it was made of wood. He just said, “losali,”, so I said, “yes, rosary, do you know what a rosary looks like?” I asked Mom to give me the mini-rosary and showed it to him. He said, “ ahh losali.” He pulled the bed and looked underneath but found none. So, I said, find the beddings and check your laundry, maybe it’s there. I told him that it doesn’t have a material value to me, but it was something very personal to me and very important to me. I requested him that if in case he finds it, he should give it back to me immediately. I don’t know if he understood me, but he knew how important the rosary was to me.

We were in a hurry to go down to the flea market because it was already getting dark. Some of the stalls/stores were already closing and it was only a quarter to 6 in the evening. It was Sunday and most of the stores close early. I was catching the last minute shopping. I found the stuff I wanted to buy, went inside and asked the man in charge of the store how much he was selling the blouses. He said, it was 120 baht, so I said, “too high, lower it” (truth is, I don’t have any idea if it was cheap or quite high). I said, “give it to me at 100 Baht per piece and I will get 5. He shook his head and showed me a receipt, as if showing proof that he had sold the blouse to his previous buyer at 120 Baht each for a dozen order. Since we were running out of time, and he was already closing, I asked for his calculator so I could make my computation, he gave me his CALLING CARD, I said, “no, your calculator” he gave me his BALLPEN, so I said again, this time using the sign language, finally he understood and handed the calculator to me. We agreed at 115 Baht per piece.

After that, we wanted to go to Nayanarapan where Mom would like to buy some jewelry items, it was at the World Trade Center, so I asked for direction from the people there. Along the way, we met our cowboy tourmate, and so she went with us. It was quite far from where we were but we managed to reach the place by walking. The World Trade Center was a high end department store. The counterpart here would be Rustan’s or Rockwell, or the new Greenbelt in Ayala. I was only able to buy a few items. Mom didn’t buy jewelry anymore. We were tired and wanted to go back to our hotel to rest. We were looking for the way out. I asked the salesladies, where was the way out and got no reply. I saw question marks on their faces, so I said, “exit, exit going to the Budda temple.” The Buddha temple was our landmark. Someone understood and so we found our way out and thanked her. On our way out, Mom said, “natatawa yung mga babae sa atin,” I looked back and smiled at them. We took a taxi cab, as Mom was tired of walking. We were talking inside the taxi and we mentioned about the royal family in Thailand, I turned to the driver and asked him if he knew who their president was, he shook his head, and so I said, “you don’t know your president, Thaksin Shinawatra.” Upon hearing his name, he nodded, and I heard him said something like, “no english.” I said, “ok, no talk english.”

As for my rosary, I have found it inside my bag. I don’t know, I had the feeling, it came back to me. When I first inspected my bag and every pocket of it, there was no rosary. I called the housekeeping and informed them that I had already found it and that they shouldn’t bother anymore.

Monday, March 15, 2004, our bags were ready. I took my last minute shopping, together with my tourmates. Mom didn’t come with us anymore. We went around the place once again and bought some stuff to bring home. The shopping and buying spree was done in an hour. At 10:30 a.m. I was back at the hotel, packed our bags and readied ourselves. At 11:45 we were at the groundfloor together with our things and waited for our driver who will bring us to the airport. And that was our Bangkok experience.

The communication gap was real. I felt I had the power over them. I and other Filipino tourists had the edge because we could express ourselves well using the universal language. We understand and speak the English language and it was only until then that I appreciated the power and advantage of speaking the language. I wasn’t expecting the Thai people to speak in fluent English, but at least “carabao english/broken english will do. But no, words like shampoo, bath soap, can opener, calculator, grocery store, jewelry store, president are basic words and they didn’t know them. In the Philippines, at least the street vendors could understand and speak little english. But in Thailand, even the educated ones and the professional ones, get tongued tied when talked to in english. There are those who could speak the language but they were no match to how the Pinoys speak fluently. My tourmate told me that when we were in Chatujac, she overheard the whites complaining, “ Whew, they don’t’ understand english.”

But on the other hand, I justified their deficiency by saying, well at least, they’re progressive, even though they don’t understand english; what about us, we speak good english and yet look at us, our country is still poor. I think their lives are much better.

The buildings in Thailand were very simple. They were no match to the buildings we have here. They all looked the same to me, they look dull and do not have the expensive trimmings a building should have. We don’t see much of the latest models of cars traversing in the road. I was looking for top of the line cars but I could only count them in my fingers. In the Philippines, you see the latest models of cars displayed and being driven in the roads like CRV’s, Expeditions, BMW’s, latest models of Toyota and Mitsubishi cars. Are the Filipinos richer than Thais or we’re just plain arrogant and showy.

In the flea market, I didn’t see the “tinderas” tinkering with their cellphones while waiting for customers. I don’t even know if they have cellphones. But in here, everyone has a cellphone, even the security guards and tinderas in the market. Does it tell us something?

Thailand was very proud to have reached and exceeded their tourist quota visitors. More tourists, more dollars for the country, thus better economy for the country. Why can’t we be like Thailand. What had gone wrong? We seem to have all the edge and the advantage, but why is this country couldn’t move forward? We already have the answers but we’re still confused. My Bangkok experience will serve as an eye opener for me and an inspiration.

A pup named Bruce

Owning a dog is not one of my priorities these days. But the kids around me and the kid in me prevailed. I heard raising a pure breed dog is quite expensive, the very reason why at first I can’t seem to like the idea of buying and raising one. Nevertheless, I do dream that someday a dog in the house is just so cool. So, when someone advertised through the internet that golden retriever pups are for sale, I just thought this might be the right time to own one. This is how the Bruce mania starts.

Before the name Bruce was officially adopted, several names cropped up as suggested by the kids like, Max, Sparky, Jack, etc. I chose the name Bruce because it sounded just right for a dog that I perceive to be strong and connotes a real stud in the making.

Here he was, a new and young intruder in the house ready to bring entertainment to everyone. The breeder handed me Bruce’s Birth certificate and he explained to me its significance. His original name was Spark. I was told Bruce came from a family, from a lineage with a Champion line. Proof was in his Birth certificate dotted with red prints signifying his family were mostly winners in dog contests. Bruce was a 2- month old pup whose traits I enjoyed so much. He was adorable, cheerful, playful, friendly and uncomplaining. Uncomplaining because not like the young askals when put in a leash, Bruce never tried to resist and never did he whimper even once. He’ll just look at you submissively, as if telling you , “yes, master, as you wish”, he’ll lie down flat on his stomach readying himself for a good night rest.

Others want a guard dog or a watch dog. But as for me, I just want a pet, a house dog trained to co-exist with his superiors/masters. A dog who knows when and where he’s supposed to poop and pee. If a dog can learn that then he’s a less stressful animal to manage.

My mom told me to put Bruce in a cage. But I stubbornly refused and argued that he’s not gonna grow up in a cage. He’ll stay in the house and my task is to prove to them that Bruce can be trained to be an “educated” dog. A dog with urbane manners, which is quite a grand task. But I was determined to do it anyway. My Mom wanted him caged because she’s allergic to its hairy body, but I defied this. I didn’t listen and it was already late when I realized that putting him in a cage might have been the wisest thing to do.

It wasn’t easy raising and training a very young pup to follow my rules. I did quite heroic sacrifices just to show to them that he will be a good dog. Bruce tested my stress level, my tolerance and I will admit that sometimes I regretted having him. Sometimes, I asked myself why I have allowed myself into this situation. Whereas, on weekends I could sleep and wake up a little late and worry nothing. But when Bruce came, all my routine changed. I started to wake up early to give him a little walk, feed him and train him to poop outside the house. I went home early from office just to make sure everything with him was ok. I was just fortunate to have a housemaid who also loves dogs and never complained of the things I asked her to do for Bruce.

As days passed by, Bruce remained to be a playful and active pup freely roaming around the house. The kids love him and cuddle him whenever they see him. But young as he was, Bruce was like a very young baby, who innocently puts everything in his mouth whatever he picks up. He was also in the teething stage so biting things was a reflex thing for him to do to relieve the itchy feeling in his gums. He was a hustler when it comes to sniffing but had the habit of putting stuff into his mouth and played with it. He picked up through his mouth pebbles, pieces of woods, hard and scaly plants and other stuff that might have soothed his itchy gums. He ruined my precious boots. One fine morning when I woke up, I saw the other piece downstairs, full of small bite-holes and the leather was ripped off. With his small but sharp teeth, my boots was just one of his victims. That was the time I decided to put him in a leash but he still stayed in the house.

A week before he turned 3-month old, I noticed something. Though, he was still playful and cheerful, his poop was soft and wet and yellowish which was something to be alarmed about. I brought him to the vet for his 3rd vaccination for distemper but I informed the vet about his poop. The doc instead of giving him the vaccination, decided to treat his soft poop first. I was told that if we insist in giving him the shots Bruce will become weaker. And so his diarrhea was treated first and when the billing was handed to me I almost choked. My two week budget was a goner. But it was ok, facts of life. Indeed, pedigreed dogs are expensive. I didn’t mind, as long as Bruce will be cured of the malady. The vet warned me though that should he not improve the next day, I should let her know immediately.

The next day, things didn’t improve. He got worse. The cheerfulness was gone and there were only two sad eyes. He refused to eat and drink. Others noticed it too. I was in a dilemma, I couldn’t decide whether to bring him to the vet right away or just observe him first for a few days. I dreaded looking at him because of his pitiful condition. When I couldn’t bear it anymore, I brought him to the vet for confinement. The doc briefed me on possible scenarios. She told me too how much it will cost me. It was a little heavy on me but I swallowed the bitter pill, so to speak, hoping against hope that Bruce will be able to pull through, survive and recover in a 5-day critical period of confinement. The vet was a nice and gentle lady who lectured me on dog rearing. Boy, I got an earful.

Bruce was suffering from Canine parvo virus. The most fatal disease a pup could get. The target of the virus is the intestines and the symptom, bouts of diarrhea and vomiting. In worst cases, blood in the stool will be prominent with continuous vomiting. If a dog gets worse, it will lead to a heart failure which will be its cause of death. In all the talks I have had with the vet, the thing that lingered in my mind was about the CAGE. The vet told me that young pups whose vaccines are not complete yet should be placed in a cage first because their immune system are not fully developed yet. Young Golden retrievers like Bruce are always hungry and they will eat or chew on anything around them that they see. Their intestines are thread-like and very delicate. Worms and foreign bodies in the stomach are the culprits that will make them suffer like hell.

Seeing Bruce each day of his confinement is like a torture. My heart breaks whenever I see him in pain and getting weaker each day but there was still that glimmer of hope that he will be able to pull through and survive the ordeal. I prayed hard that his life will be spared. Each day, his eyes were getting sadder and sadder. In my moments alone, I told God, “If you want him just take him away,” but I said this with a heavy heart. On his fourth day, after office I went directly to the clinic. This was supposed to be the critical day. I have been wanting to hear from his vet that he will be able to recover, but all I heard from her was that his survival was a 50-50 chance. I imagined myself strangling the vet to throw out the words that Bruce’s gonna be ok. I wanted to say to her, “No, you will make him live.” But I wasn’t given false hopes. That night, while watching him sprawled on the cage, sleeping groggily, his breathing laborious, I called his name but no reply. Looking closely, I just thought I saw tears in his eyes. I left the clinic hoping that tomorrow he will be up and kicking and alive. Moments later, when I reached home, the vet called telling me that Bruce was gone. I don’t remember saying much but asked the vet instead how much I owed her.

These are moments where I hate myself for remembering things vividly on my mind. I went to the clinic, saw the hapless Bruce lying on his side. I saw a yellow stain around his belly indicating that he had peed before he died. Such a heartbreaking scenario which showed how much he was in tremendous pain then. I asked the vet how he died, which on second thought I shouldn’t have asked anymore.

His doctor said, he died with his mouth open. He made a spine-chilling cry of pain before his last breath of life was snapped out. I wasn’t there when he took his last breath but my mind was reeling with clear images of him howling in pain. My interpretation was that it was his way of saying, “Good-bye everyone and Thank you.” And so he was there, lying lifeless. There were no tears in my eyes just an overwhelming sadness. I wrote the vet a check and left the clinic.

News of his death was quite a shock to everyone of us. Deia, my niece who has grown so attached with Bruce was shocked about his death. She didn’t talk to anyone that night and cried buckets of tears, according to her Mom. Her eyes, the next day were swollen from crying.

Yes, our Bruce is gone. If he had become an adult he could have been a hunk-dog where female dogs will go ga-ga over him. To this day, I still nurture a sadness in my heart but I tried to pacify myself by saying, “stop mourning, he was just a dog.” Indeed, he was just a dog, a puppy whose traits I thought are better than humans. These are inferior creatures who look up to their masters. The innocence, loyalty, obedience, submissiveness, trusting and uncomplaining characteristics they exhibit are traits we humans should emulate and practice specially when dealing with our Master above.

My niece once asked me, “could we go to Cavite again and get another Bruce and name him Bruce again. I did not reply but just looked away.

And this is the story of Bruce’s life and his impact to other people’s lives, though shortlived.