Memoirs Of A Tell-Tale Heart

Of Pipedreams and Chocolates

noreply@blogger.com (Lexa Elaine Capuyan) — Sat, 21 Nov 2015 04:50:00 +0800

Forrest Gump’s momma always said that life is a box of chocolates. You never know what you’re gonna get.

Yup! I do agree with Mrs. Gump that life is really a box of chocolates. You never know what’s in store until you open it up. My life has been a bittersweet delicacy. It had its up and downs but I’d never be where I am today without every challenge I had to overcome.

Seeing my dad and my loved ones taken away from me before my eyes had snapped me out of a lot of sweet dreams and happily-ever-afters and silent reveries. Years had already passed and I still have to mull over what may have been and if only I had done the right thing. One of the things my dad’s death taught me was that we only live once - to do those things our body and our soul cry out for us to do. Life is just a fleeting enchantment of pipedreams and is not to be squandered. I had to get on with my life and live it to the fullest. In other words, I think that often times it takes a tragic event or sad circumstance for us to stop and really appreciate what and whom we have in our lives. It's not every day that we take the time to be thankful for the very pieces that hold us together, that being the people closest to us. After all, they’re worth more than our material things and our money.

But I always wondered if only my dad hadn’t passed away leaving a lot of untended things he’d love to do if he hadn’t met his Maker. But growing up with the Lord in my heart, mind and soul obliterated all those thoughts from my wondering mind. Living in God’s grace taught me that my dad’s death was a blessing in a way – Mrs. Gump called it a part of life but I wish it wasn’t. He would have deeply suffered battling the Big C if the Lord had not taken him away from us. But that’s a story for another day.

Today’s story is about how inspired I am by the things that come randomly to mind that I had to make a list, check it twice and cross out the things I’ve already done or experienced.

‘What’ and ‘if’ are two very different words but when put together would entail more than their separate meanings. What if? What if? What if my dad hadn’t died? What if he was still here with us? What if there’s more to life than just a box of chocolates? What if I go out on a limb and step out of the box? What if? What if? But as ‘what’ and ‘if’ could mean a lot more than their separate meanings, there is also more to ‘if’ and ‘only’ when put together. If only… If only dad hadn’t died. If only I had told him, I loved him every day until the day he breathed his last breath. If only I had lived life with a little more freedom. If only I had lived life with a little more love and laughter. If only I had opened that box of chocolates. If only I had taken that urge to go out on a limb and experience the challenging world that box of chocolates could offer. The only difference between ‘what if’ and ‘if only’ is the fact that one gives you more of a chance, the other more of regret.

Now I leave it to you to think about which of the two phrases you’d prefer to use. If you would ask me, I’d prefer to use both. One would ensure my curiosity and inspiration, the other would push me harder to success.

I’ve therefore made a living document out of whatever comes to mind. This is my living legacy to man and nature as well as myself. Having said that, I would like to create legacies that would last beyond lifetimes as well as quench my thirst for adrenaline-induced undertakings. Being spontaneous as I am, I’ve listed down some things I want to do with my life before I leave for the hereafter. It’s just like planning an adventure of life. For what many of you would call a bucket list, I call it my own box of chocolates. For what many of you would call an itemized list of things you always wanted to do before it’s too late, I prefer it to be a delicacy of things that are purposeful, meaningful and reasonably challenging. And a lot of things come to mind for what delicacies my box of chocolates would have.

Yeah. I know some of them are lame but these delicacies in my box of chocolates mean a lot to me and I also know that everything from here on out would be just icing on a cake.

1. Migrate to a country of choice. While most people want to live and visit Paris, I’ve always wanted to experience South Korea. Yes, Paris may be the most romantic city in the world with its urban perfection, greatest boutiques, grand boulevards, and legendary cafes but South Korea to me has a lot of history and mysteries that I want to discover and learn about. With its rich and flourishing culture and history and lots of magical, mystical and amusing places to visit over and over without tiring, Korea would be the perfect place for me to live in.

2. Finish Simbang Gabi. The Misa de Gallo or Simbang Gabi is practiced in the Philippines every December 16 until December 25 either at 12midnight or 4AM or anytime in the wee hours of the morning, depending on which city or province you are located. St. Mary the Virgin Church in Sagada opens its doors to the public at 5AM for the Misa de Gallo. At the Cathedral in Baguio City, the church is open as early as 12am. I’ve completed only 5 of the 9 days, so far.

3. Make a scrapbook of memories. I’m a packrat of sorts. I’ve lots of stuff stacked up in my room I use for art such as personalized cards and envelopes, scrapbooking, and any artistic ideas that would suddenly pop up in my mind. I’ve finished my scrapbook of memories when I was in elementary but time is at a loss every time I think of updating it. I’ve just started with the new inputs.

4. Build sand castles. I’ve always wanted to experience building sand castles. Real sand castles done by the beach. The only sand castles I’ve ever built were those by our front yard in Danonoy where a pile of sand was dumped for construction of the pathway to the poultry house. That pile sand had been my playground while growing up as well as with my sisters and brother. As we grew up, that pile of sand became less and less, but I never even built a castle on that pile of sand. I’ve built ‘volcanoes’ out of it, that of which was done in a very unsanitary way but was however sooo fun. I’ve also built burrows for my Easter eggs that my sisters could not find. At times, that pile of sand would serve as a hiding place for things I would not want my sisters to take from me. I couldn’t believe that I’m saying this but I really, really miss that pile of sand. I think it was used to pave the front lawn. I was in already in college when I saw the last of it. I’ve been to beaches but I never had the chance to build sand castles as well. Every opportunity was missed as another one opens. Every time I get to build a sand castle, something comes up. I was just left building sand castles in the air.

5. Commune with nature. I love the outdoors so with every chance I get, I go hiking in the mountains nearby our home, sleep on the grass, listen to the sound of the rustling leaves, the sound of crickets (at one time, my adventurous streak kicked in that I went looking around for Jiminy), the chirping birds and the constant moo-moo of the cows nearby (I always hoped I won’t step or sleep on a pile of moo-moo turd or cow pies as they say). Communing with nature is one of my ways of casting all my worries and cares to the wind as it blusters them away from my ailing soul and mind.

6. Wish upon a shooting star. I always believed in fairytales, prince and princesses, mysteries and adventure. Yes. I am a romantic at heart. But hopeless nonetheless. Ever since I knew about shooting stars and wishes coming true when you cast your wishes upon them, I’ve always watched out my window at night for a shooting star. I couldn’t explain the emotions coursing through me when I’ve seen a light one time, blinking, flickering in the distant velvet sky. I just closed my eyes and wished that my father would get well. And then it hit me. I opened my eyes and realized that it was just a plane passing through. I would love to catch a glimpse of a shooting star one day. At times when I couldn’t sleep at night, I just go out on a clear night, look up at the sky, watch the marvelous stars twinkle, while fervently hoping that a shooting star passes through my line of sight.

7. Plant a tree. Our high school had a tree-planting activity years ago, and that’s when I really planted a tree by myself. It was a palm tree. Last time I checked, that palm tree was still standing strong. When we were young, we’ve helped my dad plant trees by the gate so cows (they were our neighbors) wouldn’t invade our yard.

8. Have lots of fun at amusement parks. Hmmm… As a child and up to now, I never had the luxury or even a chance to go to Disneyland or any amusement park for that matter. The only park I went to which really ‘amused’ me was Burnham Park in Baguio City. It may not have the luxury of carousel rides or Ferris wheels but it has this bike-hiring amenity where you could take out bikes for a limited amount of time and roam around the park vicinity. It also has a lake at the very center of the park with boats for hire where you could experience paddling by yourself or at least have someone in the know to teach you how. And my hometown, Sagada has its own share of something that keeps you amused. Who needs an amusement park when in Sagada you could run along the fields and have loads of fun getting yourself stuck in a rice paddy? The very challenge of how to get yourself out of that slushy, gooey mess is an adventure in itself. Amusing, right? Who needs monkey bars and zip lines when in Sagada, one just has to climb trees and swing from one branch to another? Who needs slides and skating rinks when in Sagada, one just has to take a slab of wood, rub candlewax on it and ride it down the road or an incline? Who needs swimming pools or indoor beaches when in Sagada, there’s a lot nature could offer? You could go wash out all the worries and wearies in its majestic falls or brave the freezing waters of the caves. Or if you don’t mind AT ALL, the murky crap-polluted waters of Danum Lake. Who needs roller coaster rides when in Sagada, you just ride in uncle Paddong’s or uncle Pablo’s bus and you’re in for the ride of your life? I know there’s more to Sagada than what I’ve mentioned but well, I must say, it’s really more fun in Sagada.

9. Stand with one foot on either side of a provincial/continental/country boundary. I still have yet to stand with one foot on either side of the boundary arch between Mountain Province and Benguet. I know, I know. Don’t judge me. I just didn’t have that much time in my hands. It was one blasted excuse after another.

10. Meet someone famous and get his/her autograph. I’ve always been an avid fan of Korean celebrities. I would love love love to have Kim Soo Hyeon’s and Seo In Guk’s signature on a frame. Kim Soo Hyeon is my self-proclaimed husband, if there’s ever such a thing. I know there is, ‘coz I just mentioned it. Seo In Guk – I just love how he grew up to be such an amazing actor. I love them and yes, I troll both of them.

11. Cut my own hair. I thought it was weird and crazy to be cutting your own hair but by the time I did it, the feeling was a mixture of relief, sadness, excitement, etc. I never thought cutting my own hair would be an “orgasmic” experience. Well, the excitement and the relief is explanatory. The sadness, well because my hair is an extension of my body. When I get to cut it, it seems there’s a piece of me missing, which physically is true but there’s really much more to the experience than meets the eye. The feelings of relief and excitement outweighed the sadness of having something missing from your life.

12. Skip class or school. A lot of my friends and classmates would answer, ‘Who doesn’t?’. I never did. It was hard enough for me since I didn’t want to let my mother down. She is a teacher and I always thought that if I had to cut class or skip school, then I would be a disappointment to my mother and everyone who is proud of me for what I have achieved. But that was true only for my days in elementary and high school. In college, I’ve skipped out of one class just for the joy of walking out from my angered and misunderstood instructor. Hehe… No worries. After both of us had cooled down, I’ve asked for an apology at the end of the period. Apology accepted with a dimpled smile as a bonus. Huh, was he that cute before? I really was engrossed in my studies. Tsk. Tsk.

13. Have a movie marathon with friends. I have a lot of friends in high school. Four of them, my best of friends. But I never had a chance to go to a movie marathon with them because of the distance of where we live to the town center. It would take 30 minutes to an hour of walking before you reach our home and just as I mentioned earlier, our nearest neighbors are the cows. It sometimes gives me the chills when I think about walking home alone. In college, during our sophomore and junior years in school and after every exhausting examination, my friends and I would stay at a friend’s house for the night and watch movies. At one time, we watched the whole sequels of the movie ‘SAW’. It was fun relaxing with friends more so that when we sometimes had too much alcohol in our blood, we miraculously could speak the English language perfectly well. And we spoke to each other like that until the alcohol wears off. Then we’re back to being wanna-be Westerners. We still were wanna-bes when we were drunk but as high-spirited as we were, we didn’t know that.

14. Kiss foreign land on first step. This had been my promise for like, forever. It has also been an inspiration and a motivation factor for me to do my best and reach high enough to tap my dream. The first time I was able to step on foreign land was in Singapore. I failed this big time. I was so nervous and tired and excited at the same time that my emotions got the better of me. And the first step was not on land particularly, it was on the airport terminal floor.

15. Carve name into a tree. I’ve done this once or twice already. I’ve carved my name on a guava tree beside our house together with my sisters. We always climbed this tree on weekends to try hiding from house chores. Dad and Mom would call from the big house, look for us from place to place. Come to think of it, it was funny enough they never thought of looking up the guava tree. Hehehe… I also miss that guava tree. It was my refuge at times when I needed to be alone. The widespread branches of the chestnut tree nearby helped a great deal to conceal myself and the precious guava tree.

16. Embrace history. I’m not actually one to be called a history buff but I learned to embrace the Igorot culture and how important it was to know one’s roots. At this time, cultural integrity and preservation is a challenge posed by the growing economy and the introduction of modern technology and deeds. My curiosity and quest on how things were and when things started became even more fervent with the advent of the challenges the modern world has posed.

17. Send message on a bottle. I always thought it was romantic and exciting and adventurous to just write a poem or a letter, put it in an airtight bottle and let it float at sea. Unfortunately, I never came close getting an empty bottle to bodies of water so the challenge was futile. I actually remember San Juan Beach in San Fernando, La-Union but I couldn’t find an empty bottle nearby. And even if I had, I didn’t have with me a pen and paper to write on. Neither were leaves or anything I could use as a pad or pen.

18. Make a wish by dropping a coin in a well or fountain, or when crossing bridges. Hmm… ever since I learned about the Guggenheim and the wishing fountain, it’s been my mantra to make a wish in a well or a fountain or bridges any chance I get. I’ve never crossed bridges all my life, unless you count the 3-foot bridge we always used to tread as children when I and my sisters went to blow off some steam at the nearby mountain. The bridge connected the main road and a beat-up path leading towards our favorite mountain. There was an 8-ft drop in-between.

19. Experience a fireworks display. It’s frustrating to know how cool it would be to experience a fireworks display close-hand after I have seen it on television. The New Year celebration would be close enough to seeing mother rockets or lussis or fountains light up the night but it was never enough to assuage my curiosity of how a real fireworks display would feel. I’ve just been a distant observer when came the chance to see the Fireworks display in Baguio City. Would have loved to have seen (and smelled?) it with friends and family.

20. Sleep on a tree house. It wasn’t much of those tree houses you see on TV or anywhere in the world but it still is my very own tree house though I never could sleep on it. It was the guava tree beside our house. I could climb and sit on its big branches or even lie down but never to sleep because I might fall 20 feet down. And I was a little packed in the middle.

21. Bathe, sing, dance in the rain. I’ve been wet by the rain walking home from school but I wasn’t too happy about it. I would love to someday, just out of craziness and budging curiosity, get to bathe, sing and dance in the rain.

22. Make a difference in the world. I always thought being in the medical field and getting that knowledge applied in my hometown and the other poor communities without any kind of compensation would be a start. Making a difference in the world is being that difference. In a good way. Or so I thought. Yeah, it was so cliché. Danger of having a young mind. I might want to think that through though. I don’t really know. I still have that vigor to volunteer my services but I need to do something more than that. Something that could make an impact on people’s lives. Something I still am thinking about.

23. Sleep under the stars. No matter how hard I tried to sleep under the stars, I never could because Sagada is soooo cold at night. I’d freeze myself to death before I get to cross ‘sleep under the stars’ off my list. As children, we could have made it happen if we didn’t lay inside a tent our Dad made for us in the backyard one summer. But we had to run back to the house because we couldn’t sleep. But it wasn’t the biting cold which kept us awake. It was the fear of ghosts and monsters our active imaginations conjured that night. That’s what we get for talking about ghosts and what-nots while warming up our cold toes by the campfire. Dad and mom had a laugh. We didn’t. We were so scared we never dared to talk about ghosts and such for a year or so.

24. Go on a roadtrip with friends. I think it’s inborn – my sense of adventure and spontaneity. I would have loved, loved, loved to quench that monster inside of me but then I was so busy with my studies I dared not go. I feel that now that I’m free, I could do so in the near future.

25. Start my own business. I’ve always wanted to start an internet café or a photocopying business. My second greatest dream however is to start a mall and house my internet café and photocopying business there aside from the other amenities my mall could offer. My first greatest dream is to start a foundation that would cater to anyone in need of help. I’d name it Bravo’s Angels Foundation, Ltd.

26. Perform random acts of kindness every day. I have saved lots of cats and dogs from the cold. I’ve also helped my sisters and classmates with their assignments and schoolwork. I’ve helped an old lady carry her small sack of camote to the jeepney stop. I’ve dropped my 5 peso baon to Red Cross cans passed around. But just being alive to do all these things has given me a reason to live. That’s my purpose.

27. Design and build my own house. I love gazing at houses and taking points regarding the architectural designs. I also love to browse my aunt’s Home and Garden magazine to look for precious designs for houses. During my Junior year in high school, our Technology and Livelihood Education class required us to make floor plans of houses. Our senior year, allowed us to update our floor plans, design our houses using scales, and finally do a perspective of what our dream house would be like. Not to brag about it but I got the highest grade, although some of my measurements were a little off. I have a BS Nursing degree. I might seem to have missed my calling. What would have happened if I pursued design and architecture?

28. Have a car like James Bond’s. Whatever car James bond uses, it’s soooo cool! I’d love to have one of them sitting on my garage one day. Speaking of cars, I’d had the chance of taking a picture of myself and a Lamborghini. Would love to win that car. :D

29. Fall in love. Who wouldn’t? I don’t think there’s a normal person in the world who wouldn’t want to fall in love. It’s a crazy adventure. And when (notice I said ‘when’, not ‘if’) I fall in love, then will I have a chance to go visit the Great Wall of China and put a lock among the padlocks lined by love-locked lovers.

30. Get married and have kids. Okay. A lot of people say that you’ll know when the right man comes. I do hope so.

31. Bake my own wedding cake. This is the most special moment of my life and I want my wedding cake to be perfect as my gift to my soon-to-be husband and the people who’d be attending. That is, if I knew how to bake. Since it’s a special occasion, I would just leave it to the experts. Maybe, I’d still try my best though.

32. Go camping with family. Going camping in the truest sense of the word? No. But it meant a lot to me when my dad pitched up a tent at our backyard, made a bonfire, and we roasted marshmallows and slept in the tent. Nothing in this world would ever beat a family bonding.

33. Write a book. This is one of my frustrations. Every time I start writing one, I’d have another idea in mind and I scrap the one I’m recently on and start over. I have the loose pages tucked somewhere in a forgotten pile of manuscripts and scrap papers. I plan to get them all back one day, compile them and somehow finish what I started. I’ve started writing a short story recently, and I wish I had all those manuscripts I had back then.

34. Eat exotic food. I don’t know how far exotic goes in your dictionary but maybe the most exotic food I have tasted is dog meat. (aaarggh… it was an accident really. I didn’t know it was dog meat. Eh adobo kasi kaya ayun, sunggab agad ang lola mo.) Yes, that’s more exotic to me than eating bugs. Eating dog meat is over the top more outlandish than eating bugs. I don’t get why people get to eat man’s best friends. That’s totally out of the question downright sick to me.

35. Climb a mountain 5 times. This I’ll never tire of. I’d climb the mountain near our house again and again as long as I live. But I want to take it to the next level and climb the next highest mountain – Mount Pulag.

36. Swim with dolphins. Dolphins are so cute and mysterious. I’d love to experience how they feel beside me. I hear it would be the most serene experience.

37. Get lost in a city. I’d love to get lost in the city of Paris – the city of lovers, of romance, of love. I’d do what it takes just to feel the romance, the magic, the grandiosity of it all. I got lost recently. In Edmonton. And I didn’t like the feeling of experiencing it all over again. But that’s not the kind of lost I was talking about. I’m talking about being lost as in being one and enjoying the view the sites, the adventure. I could have when I was lost in Edmonton but it was the lack of finances and the situation that had me bawling and balking.

38. Go where people wouldn’t dare go. There is a reason behind why people shy away from some places. They never would dare go there such as some horrific places and those with stories behind them that would leave you running away instead of running towards it. What most people don’t know is that there is a story behind why people wouldn’t go to these places. There’s history and mystery behind it. That’s what makes it very interesting. I’m so curious about these places that I love to know what really has happened. I guess I never had the chance to go to such places just yet. Except for the burial caves and the hanging coffins of my hometown, but those weren’t eerie places. They were sacred in the truest sense of the word.

39. Go on a road trip with friends. My sense of adventure is always kicking in. I’ve always wanted to go on a road trip from Sagada to the other Northern provinces then going down south towards Batangas, Manila, Bataan, etc.

40. Climb the Great Wall of China. I’ve always been amazed how the wall looked like up close. I’ve always been amazed at how people have died and sacrificed everything to build this wall for safety and now people are coming from all over the world to take a look at how majestic and sacred this wall stood. I’ve always wanted to walk this wall from one end to the other. It seems to be a great adventure.

41. Go deep into a cave. With caves squandered all around Sagada, I’ve always been spelunking here and there but never going deep into its realms. But there was this one time when my sense of adventure kicked in and my friends and I took the cave connection. This was the adventure of the lifetime since we had to go deep into 3 caves connected to one another and this would take 3-4 hours. It took us 5 hours ‘coz I was acting up again.

42. Explore the world. Ever since I’ve heard tales from my aunts, uncles and cousins about what a great world there is outside Sagada and the Philippines, I wanted to take a trip around the world and live my life to the fullest. So here I am in Canada, a stepping stone to fulfilling my dreams that had for years been distant and running away from me.

43. Go on a backpacking adventure around Asia. Yeah. I know. I’m really an adventurous person. And with that spontaneity. I’d love to just pack a bag and go lose myself in the beauty of nature and cities around Asia. So I’ve started to see Singapore. I still have 49 more Asian countries to go to, including the Philippines. That gets me so excited.

44. Visit the Arctics. Once in a while, I’d also want to just up and leave everything, my family and friends and everything I’ve ever known and just live somewhere else where I could be alone and just be who I want to be, do whatever I want to do, say whatever I want to say. There are times like this that I want to just drop everything and get lost. The arctics would be the perfect place to stay being that it is remote and no one knows who I am there.

45. Visit the Alps. A nature lover, I’d love to visit the alps and capture a moment. And drink a steaming cup of coffee while looking at those majestic mountains.

46. Achieve financial freedom. Who wouldn’t want to be rich? I for one would love to have that kind of freedom to provide for my family and my future. And do whatever I want.

47. Find mysterious places. Deep inside me there’s a thorn that keeps pricking me, leading me to be a curious person. I keep wondering and so if I know there’s something mysterious or weird I’d love to experience it first-hand.

48. Go surfing. Unfortunately, the only surfing I’ve done as of the moment is surfing the internet.

49. Explore the Philippines. Having been in Sagada almost all my life, I thought it was the most beautiful place in the world. I never knew that all over the Philippines, there are other places as mysterious as our caves, as majestic as our waterfalls, as cool as our breeze, etc. I guess. This should be my first stop when I go home after I cross out #46 of this list.

50. Own Siberian huskies. I’m always partial to dogs especially those bred with high society lines. The cutest of them all would be Siberian huskies. Some of these days, I’ll get to buy one or two of these huskies. Maybe not from Siberia per se. But I would love to visit Siberia anyhow.

A Journey to a New World: Hong Kong

noreply@blogger.com (Lexa Elaine Capuyan) — Sun, 25 Oct 2015 10:21:00 +0800

I liked the ride to the airport. It was smooth-sailing, without any of the hue of jumbled jeepneys and cars trying to weave their way in streets only intended for two-way traffic just like in the Philippines. But it wasn’t even 6 in the morning and dampness trickled down my back. I could feel it. That’s how hot it was the day I left Singapore for Hong Kong. Hot enough to start making my palms and feet sweating profusely. It felt good washing up before leaving for the airport but the fact that I had no choice but to use my sneakers still reeking of yesterday’s sweat made me want to throw them out the taxi window and bravely take a walk or run in only my newly-washed worn-out socks once we get to the airport terminal. But the acrid stench of my sweating feet may just cause the taxi to veer off course and cause an accident. I wouldn’t want that to happen. Ever. It’s embarrassing enough that my feet stink when it sweats excessively. It would be even more embarrassing that it could cause a massive accident. And I didn’t want any of that to happen. I don’t really want to hurt anyone. Ever. So I thought we all survived the ride. Thank God. Although I don’t really know if Mng. Apple and the taxi driver were just holding their breaths. Hehe.

Overlooking Changi's check in counters

Singapore’s Changi Airport was as breathtaking in the day as it was at night. I liked the set-up better than the Ninoy Aquino International Airport. The Philippines only allows airline passengers to enter the terminal. The families and friends would have to say their goodbyes outside the terminal as no one could just get in. Security was that tight. I still roll my eyes over that fact. But in Singapore, family members sending off their relatives could enter the airport up to a certain point before the immigration section. You could even wave goodbye after checking in. I was nervous enough so it was a good thing that Mng. Apple accompanied me inside. First thing we did was to pick up my boarding passes. The airport personnel, a lady in her twenties with her hair tied up, was kind enough to inform me that all my luggage will be well taken care of until I reach my destination. So I needn’t worry about going to baggage claim during the layover at Hong Kong and Vancouver. That’s what she said. She was a bit unsure but her supervisor cleared up that uncertainty. So I had my bags tagged and checked in. And I had my boarding passes with me, all three of them – for this flight, for the flight out of Hong Kong, and lastly, one for the flight to Edmonton. I was set and rearing to go.

My flight was at 10AM but we arrived a little over 7AM. We haven’t had breakfast at home so with that much time, we went to fill our grumbling stomachs. I sat in one of the empty chairs overlooking the terminal. Mng. Apple was gone for quite a while so I took pictures of my boarding passes, my passport, the table I was sitting on, the place I was at. The great view of the entire lower floor, at least from my side of the terminal. I was taking a likeness of pretty much everything seized in a second. By the time I was about to take my own photo, Mng. was already heading my way with two full cups of steaming coffee with the distinguishable pleasant aroma of blueberry muffins catching my senses. Yum! It was a great way to start the day – with a cup of coffee, and muffins that just melt in your mouth. By the time I downed about half a cup, I started to feel a bit of a caffeine buzz. I’m nervous enough now thinking about doing the rest of my travel alone. I think I’ll get even more nervous, later in the day, with way too much coffee in my system.

The flight to Hong Kong was a bit turbulent. It seems like I could feel the air tossing about at the plane’s belly. It was like a bus ride to my hometown Sagada, a bit bumpy and zigzag-y. From the plane window, I could see the plane tip from one side to another and tilt here and there in its weak attempt to find better weather conditions.

For the first 30 minutes of the flight, I had my window up and all I could see was a sea of clouds. So this was how it was to be flying above the clouds. It felt like somehow gliding on those fluffy cotton-like puffs. I could imagine bouncing from one to the other. I knew it would be a feeling ingrained to my brain for all the years of my life. I reached out to somehow feel the cotton-candy distinctive impression of the clouds with the tip of my fingers. But it collided with the pressurized window, unfortunately. Oh, well. I tried at least that much. And then it got hazier and hazier and then I couldn’t really see what’s going on except that we were inside the clouds. Now bored of the foggy disposition of the atmosphere, I tugged the window shade shut, made sure I was belted-in tight, and looked out for something to occupy my mind to shut out the edginess I felt due to the turbulence. But it didn’t last that long. After a few seconds of shaking, a calmness ensued as the plane navigated itself to clear skies and a sunny milieu.

Everyone had the luxury to ask for drinks so I took advantage of that, stretched out my legs. It was a four-hour flight, mind you. So I thought of watching a movie. But I was a bit baffled as to how I would do just that. I started to pore over what technology it was in front of me. Remember, I was a first-time flyer. So I had difficulty maneuvering myself inside a plane. I tried my best figuring out what’s what without the passenger next to me noticing. And I think I’ve succeeded in deceiving him that I was a frequent flyer. Lol.

Anyway, without anyone getting the picture I painted myself in, I was simply looking over how the other passengers were faring on their technological know-how. I became ‘somehow’ adept at such technology just by looking at them that I browsed through its programs and breezed through the movies the airline had in store. I found Gags but I really didn’t find any of it funny. They were just silly at best. And some of them, rude. I found a great Jet Li movie though. I couldn’t recall the title but it was one about a dragon warrior or something to that tune. I think it’s never been shown in the international arena. Maybe it was just for local showing in cinemas. It was in Chinese. It was seriously an action-thriller movie but it came to a point that I held my laughter in. I was already bubbling inside. Jet Li speaking their local language had me cracking up. His voice, I mean. I was literally writhing in my seat as I was seriously trying to hold my laughter in. I had to let that movie go or I’d just embarrass myself. I’ve kept myself entertained for the rest of the flight browsing through movies and programs and before I knew it, the captain was announcing our impending descent to Hong Kong International Airport.

I couldn’t see much difference of Hong Kong in the day as it was for Singapore at night. Hong Kong was a speck of brown and green and white in the atmosphere. I couldn’t see much of it. Funny enough though, I started looking for a sign or something that would stick out and show me which way was DisneyLand. We were closing in and I couldn’t see much of anything so I gave up on that feat.

Over my musings, little did I know that the uneasiness I felt upon my last goodbye wave to Mng. Apple has started to creep back in. The fear of not knowing what to do or where to go or how to get my luggage upon leaving the plane cabin has settled in once the captain gave his final landing instructions. Now, I’m really a stranger in unfamiliar territory. Alone. With just my trusty handbag and a phone that’s not much use anymore since the battery is running low. Despite my worries, I still enjoyed the view of the airport from the heavens. They say that Hong Kong’s airport is the most beautiful airport in the world. I couldn’t see much of it in-flight but upon leaving the cabin, even the tarmac was immaculately constructed just like Changi’s. And there were airport personnel welcoming us. I’ve read before that they were called airport ambassadors. I tried asking them where I should go next. But it seemed that ‘Welcome to Hong Kong’ were the only English words they knew. My anxiety shot up a notch so I took a deep breath, thanked them, smiled, and went on my way with them still whispering among themselves and wondering what the heck I had just asked them. And that realization really hit in. From here on out, I am on my own. I started to worry even more. It felt like I was, at least for the moment, homeless. But I had to keep my mind alert since I had no one else to turn to. I followed the other passengers. And once we cleared the gates, Oh my Lord! My discomfort was eased even by just a small measure but I indulged in that feeling of comfort. I pushed all the bad stuff out of my mind.

Wow! This looked much larger than Changi’s. I looked left and right and behind if anyone was near me but all the other passengers went their own way. Once again, fear settled in. I took a lot of deep breaths. That’s all I did in Hong Kong – taking a lot of deep breaths. The air was a bit different. The fresh and clean air Singapore has dispatched in my system seems to have registered well enough for me to distinguish quite a difference with the air I inhaled in Hong Kong. Hong Kong’s air was somewhat more dense and tainted.

I somehow found my own way to the hurly-burly scene of passengers frantically rushing to and fro while some passengers sit back to digest a scrumptious luncheon; airline personnel walking from end to end, effectively giving a hand to and enthusiastically responding to stumped passengers such as myself; airport security doing their rounds; and a cacophony of kids flailing about causing earsplitting noises, some of them holding on to their mothers’ legs, getting callously dragged as their mothers try to find their boarding gates or whatever destination they had in mind.

First thing I did was to seek out the boarding gate for my next flight. I took flyers from the information stand near the arrival lounge to guide me on my way to the departure area. Now, this is where schooling pays off. You’d have to know how to read the maps and signs so you know which way to go. I had a lot of flyers tucked under my arm which I had to flip through over and over to determine where I was and which way I had to go. But it was of no use if you don’t know which way was north, south, east or west. I’ve had a bit of difficulty getting through the map. I had to figure out which terminal I was in first and which concourse I was in, for that matter. And the airport personnel earlier were of no help at all. So I just worked my way through with just the overhead directional signs to the departures level for boarding gates. My first goal was to reach the departure hall.

It was a good thing the layover was for a good 5 and a half hours. I spent half an hour navigating through the terminal, and going through security checks. Another half an hour looking for the boarding gate for my flight. I thought that was the rest of the terminal but as I tried to understand the map once more, I felt like I would faint ‘coz it took me an hour to walk through just the East Hall Departure Area. I didn’t bother going to baggage claim since I was on transit. I was confident enough that my luggages were sent to the next plane just as what the airport ambassador in Singapore has said. So supposedly, all luggages are forwarded to the next airline carrier. And so I set my sights on exploring the departure hall of which my eyes was made full to bursting with all the sparkling decorations and a lot of shops do visit.

While I was walking around, with my handbag in tow and important documents in a safe place, I met a Filipino couple who came from I think it was Cambodia, they said it was. They were bound home to the Philippines. I’ve actually overheard them speaking in the local language. My heart skipped a beat. I felt a bit of pride that Filipinos are really everywhere – all over the world. So then that distinct feeling of being alone has been somewhat staved off by the presence of Kababayans. It just so proves that a Filipino, no matter how lonely he is a traveler, will never be alone. There will always be a Filipino you could meet, one way or another. I’ve overheard this couple being confused as to what time their next flight would depart and what gate they should board in and why their flight doesn’t show up on the bulletin boards. So I introduced myself and tried to unravel their dilemma. We exchanged travel stories for a while. And as the minutes ticked by, I wished the conversation would not end. But I had to find my own boarding gate. Ironically, I helped them find their way easily but I couldn’t find mine just yet. I was good at directions. Just not that adept in handling maps and such.

Anyway, I found my boarding gate at last after getting lost a few times but I still had a lot of time in my hands so I decided to make the best of the remaining hours. I would have loved to go out of the airport and see the sights and Disneyland. I’ve always wanted to go to Disneyland. Yes, even at my age. But I was a bit concerned that I wouldn’t be able to get back in time for my next flight. Knowing that I had to be at the boarding gate 45 minutes before departure, I took it to myself to explore the rest of the terminal. I found a money changing station while walking around so I tried to sell some of my pesos for Canadian Dollars (CAD), Hong Kong Dollars (HKD) and Singaporean Dollars (SGD). I still had some of our local currency with me tucked safely in a folded, worn-out newspaper. It’s lying safe right now in my handbag’s secret pocket. I had to buy an adaptor for my charger since my phone’s battery life has already given up. It cost me 299HKD. After walking around, I got thirsty and the water bottle I had when I left Singapore has been confiscated when I was clearing security so I had to go to the trouble of exchanging currency just to buy a cola which cost me 24HKD. Oh my God. I still had that receipt tucked in a piece of something, somewhere. And I wasn’t able to finish that damned cola. I had to throw it out when we landed in Vancouver as we passed through security checks. But it was a cool experience having to feel how it was to travel out of your own country, having to buy things at a whim knowing you only have just the right amount of currency to get you through your destination. It was a feeling I would welcome anytime, but to a certain extent. I had to make sure I still had enough money to get me home.

Hurray! My boarding gate! Wheee! At last!

As I soared from one shop to the other, I noticed escalators leading to passenger lounges while I was walking around and I just had to check it out. I didn’t know these were VIP lounges until I saw a sign upstairs that a card (that only eligible members of The Marco Polo Club, Cargo Clan Elite and Oneworld Emerald & Sapphire members have) was needed to pay for services rendered. For a reasonable fee (accordingly), you can relax in comfort in one of these pay-in lounges before boarding a flight or during transit. You can enjoy hot showers, all day food and beverage buffet, internet and email access as well as live CNN news feeds on TV, magazines, newspapers, massage chairs and seated massage. It’s a perfect place to freshen up after a long and tiring flight. There are shower rooms, hair blow-dry rooms and resting area. Oh my God. I was so enchanted that I still proceeded to explore the upper floors despite myself being discovered and to peek at each room that had access. I could have knocked but I was worried they might chase me away once they find out my identity. Haha. I was like a female James Bond that time or someone else. I was like the heroine in a Brad Pitt movie. This time, no Angelina Jolie. I was ‘the’ Mrs. Smith.

After a rush of adrenaline from masquerading as a well-heeled individual with wallet bursting with cards and cash in different currencies, I found that there were these escalator-thingies except for them being flat on the ground (looked more like a conveyor belt for people), which takes the passengers from one end to the other. The whole time, I didn’t ride it because I thought it would lead to someplace else. But it wasn’t only when I reached the end that I realized, it was there for that very purpose of transporting passengers so as them not having any difficulty with walking around, their luggages and all. With that said, I rolled my eyes and called myself stupid.

So the next platform, I tried getting on it. It even welcomes you once you step over it and advises you to watch your step at the end. Oh my Lord! For the rest of the ride, I just stood there enjoying the ride not knowing really how to describe my emotions at that very moment. It’s not like the feeling you get when you ride those stairs or escalators going up and down. If anything, I felt free. It was only after I stepped off it that I realized I was grinning like a kid eating ice cream on a hot day after a fun adventure at the amusement park. So I simply rode on another to get me to the other end. I think I enjoyed it too much that I kept riding it back and forth from one end of the terminal to the other without any purpose as to where and what I am after. All this while, I tried so much to hide my look of excitement and enjoyment but it was a bit hard when you’re enjoying yourself and your emotions are at the brink of breaking out. And I was alone. So yes, the people around me must have thought that I’ve lost the last of my wits.

Anyway, I kept on walking around. By the time it was time to board, I was done exploring the nook and crannies of the airport. It was finally time to go. I tried not to look back. But I’ll admit, I looked back once.

I had never checked-in in an airplane alone before. There never had been a need. But I didn’t want anyone to know that. So I just listened too attentively to what the ambassadors were saying as well as read all the signs and searched the internet. There’s free Wi-Fi and I had my phone charged in one of the phone charging stations of the terminal at no cost at all. It would have cost me Php30/hr back home.

Once on the plane, dinner was served. I was scared to order something out of my comfort zone but I wanted to taste their congee. I thought it would be the authentic one since China or Hong Kong is known for their porridges and noodles. I have to tell you, I didn’t really like it. I could have had a culinary orgasm to our very own arrozcaldo when compared to the congee they served. Yuck! I would have tossed it out the plane window, if it was even possible. And with that, I just took out the Monde muffins Mng. Apple offered me before leaving the house. It had that lip-smacking goodness despite its dryness but I would welcome anything else rather than having that bowl of goo chugged down my throat. Then I got to bed, if you could call the seat of an airplane that. It was comfortable nonetheless.

So that’s most of the excitement I had in Hong Kong. I promised myself to visit Hong Kong Disneyland one of these days. I hope Hong Kong would be willing to welcome me back.

So I had to take something else with me...

A Journey to a New World: Singapore

noreply@blogger.com (Lexa Elaine Capuyan) — Mon, 12 Oct 2015 04:31:00 +0800

It’s almost a year since I’ve set foot here in the Land of the Maple Leaf but my journey to this New World still vividly comes to mind. I could still remember the weather was a bit dreary when I with my cousin and her family left for Singapore for a visit to their home. The tears came down like rain that afternoon as my mom and I said our goodbyes at the airport. It was a bittersweet ambiance. My heart ached, my chest felt stuffy. But there was a tinge of excitement and triumph. It’s a feeling that’s always been embedded in the deepest recess of my soul – an alcove not a one has ever understood. It was that kind of feeling which emitted such a powerful antidote to the already weary soul. It’s a gloomily blissful feeling – the kind that emboldens oneself to strive to live with and capitalize on the present for a better if not an opulent future. And that memory has never left me ever since that day I left.

It was a three-night-two-day stay in the Garden City of South East Asia but it felt like just an hour of great adventures. The minutes went by too fast as they became hours and then the hours turned to days. I wanted this feeling of warmth in my heart to last for a while and it did – for months until now.

A week before my flight and I was still finishing up some office work and trying to beat a deadline as well as create more deadlines and extend some others. That was the one week that stayed in my memories for months up to now. It was a week I never wanted but surprisingly these days, I miss it. All the office stuff – those one-of-a-kind Monday and Tuesday sessions jotting down deliberations on the what-nots and what-ifs for the welfare of the municipality; those demanding Wednesdays; those bland, not-so-hectic Thursdays; those Fridays when we get so high-spirited ‘coz I get to sleep in tomorrow; and, those Saturdays and sometimes Sundays that we strenuously and half-heartedly put in some extra hours. But that’s another story to tell. For now, I’d just want to share a certain part of my life in my sojourn into a foreign land.

The night before my travel to the city, I was still trying to clear out the office. Time was so constrained that saying goodbye to everything and everyone that I loved for the past few months has been such an emotional journey for me. I couldn’t even take my lawyer friend out for a decent meal, even my own family and friends for that matter.

But knowing the fact that despite unsaid farewells everything and everyone will still be there to cherish and treasure made my burden lighter. I was thankful for if it had been a pound or two more, the plane would have not flown!

The fact that knowing that everyone you left is cheering you on has made my baggage light. It was emotional turmoil when I left in such a hurry for a cliché – ‘in search of greener pastures’.

Being on an airplane for the first time has kept me up during the entire night flight. I was with family so the flight has been a terrific encounter. I was with Mng. Apple, her husband Mng. Raj, and my two delightfully charming and striking cousins, Sumer and Shankar. We left for Singapore on a three-hour flight. It was my first flight and I had an splendid experience. Now that I look back, it was a funny experience as well. The whole flight, I was deviously finding ways to take a proper picture of myself (selfie) without the other passengers noticing, more importantly, the flight attendants. It was already night time so the lights were off. I took a couple of photos but the flash came on automatically. The photos didn’t look good. They didn’t look good in the dark either. Oh, well. I might be able to take a good photo on the plane bound for Canada.

Singapore was a sight to behold at night. From the plane window, I could see the lights of the city as we approached Singapore’s Changi Airport. It was breathtaking. The closer we flew down, the lower the altitude, the more I couldn’t explain how I felt. I wanted to go back home to the Philippines but at the same time, I wanted to set foot in another land and experience what it had to offer. I knew it would be a pleasure visiting with family. And I was right. The moment we got off the plane, I had a distinct feeling that I would be coming back. When? I didn’t have the slightest idea but I have learned a long time ago to always trust my gut. The airport was a beauty in itself. The prominent watch tower was so colorful, such that an artist just swished his paint brush onto the tower and mysteriously, a hue of colors had just blended into place. It was the first thing that caught my attention in-flight. And it was the last thing I saw as we left the airport. Impressive!

I still hadn’t gotten over my first plane ride, rushing to the passenger gates, etc. when another matter slapped me right on the face. I knew Singapore follows right-hand driving but to experience it first-hand has been quite a shock. And the taxis in Singapore didn’t look like any other taxi in the Philippines. It was limousine style except for the lack of luxury food and drinks. It was my first limousine ride. Hah! Maybe I could now stop dreaming of ever riding a limousine someday ‘cause this felt like I was riding one. Ohh, it would be cool to ride a real one but this taxi could be enough to stave off that craving temporarily. Even the mere fact that I had to gaze outside its windows was a great experience. I had a clear view of Singapore’s night life – well maybe not all of it, but at least part of it. It was nearing midnight and the city was still buzzing with cars and people all about. And the neon lights! Whew! Every building was having a contested display with their aesthetic show of twinkling, dazzling lights. The kaleidoscope of colors brought me just to one thought, ‘I am definitely coming back.’ I can’t afford not to. I had not spent an hour in this marvelous country and here I was loving it as every second ticked by. I was excited for the days – and nights, I would be spending in this little Asian country I now could call home. Yes, it’s another home away from home. Wherever or whatever dwelling my family finds shelter in, I could call it my home. Mi casa, su casa. Or for that matter, ‘Su casa, mi casa.’ Ah! Family. I love them all.

I couldn’t sleep well that night. I couldn’t believe I was in Singapore. I just couldn’t believe what was unfolding before my eyes. I remember that as I was writing this in a journal I always keep with me, sleep couldn’t yet overcome me. Maybe the sleep fairies came late that night. Oh, I just can’t wait for the sun to rise. That’s a first since I always wanted the nights not to be over so I wouldn’t have to wake up early. But with a lot of excitement I had in just over 24 hours, I could say I could live with it for once. And then just as seasons were bound to change, the sun rose charmingly that morning. The rays of the sun tried at best to peek through the blinds from the window signifying a good day ahead. My eyes were open but my brain was still trying to wake from its lethargic state. Something warm beside me registered. It was something good and something I could get used to. It turned out to be Beethoven, my niece’s and nephew’s cute tuxedo cat cuddled up beside me. Sooooo cute! I stretched out careful not to wake the peacefully, sleeping cat. I sat up and something by the bedside table caught my eye. Oh. It’s Katy Purry – a cute tabby, just sitting on the tabletop glancing at me and the window as if telling me that the sun is up and I had to move my butt. Blaster, another tabby (a mackerel one, I think) was on the floor, walking circles, curious about what was in my luggage. What a way to start the day – with warmth and in high spirits. The day is delightfully unfolding into a marvelous one.

My niece and nephew were still in bed. I was so excited to find out how my day really turns out. Mng. Apple, barely up and about, was probably slaying me in her thoughts for waking up too early. We slept past midnight although dead-tired from our travel to the airport and our flight. But I had a full day ahead of me and I wanted to watch the sunrise. Unfortunately for me, I didn’t catch the sun rising. And that made me all the more excited to witness the sun dipping, commanding half the world into nightfall. I really couldn’t recall anything else about the day since I was in cloud nine the whole time. All I could recall was the kindness and hospitality my cousins and her family showed me. I was so touched I blinked back the tears of happiness and sadness. Happy, because I’ve had a great adventure with my cousins and nephews. Sad, because I already miss my mom, sisters and brother. It would have been great if we took this vacation together. But then I thought to myself, ‘Oh, well. Maybe in the near future.’

I’ve had a lot of reservations when it came to travelling out of the country but now that I gained an experience, it was a refreshing adventure. This little Asian country has astounded me in more ways than I could imagine. The people, the sights, the experience of it all. My three-night-two-day stay has been a rush of events. It felt like it was just a two-minute preview of my life unravelling before my eyes. The days were jam-packed with fun-filled activities and lolly-gagging. I’ve had the time of my life though I was a bit uncomfortable since I had to impose on the kindness of my cousin and her family.

The next day was full of excitement since I had the chance to go to the beach! And my! Was it a sight! I could see the airplanes lining up along the horizon towards Changi Airport. The docks were filling up with large cargo vessels. The sea was so serene and the air was so fresh with that musty scent the seaweeds and marine life has emitted.

The first time I’ve been to a body of water was to fish with my dad at the lake just a 30-minute walk from our residence. Well, that’s beside the fact that we had this large bath tub installed at the main bedroom's T&B where we learned to somehow breathe underwater and sometimes to take a dive to the chagrin of my dad and mom. But I loved going fishing and having a picnic by the lake, although I could not recall if we ever caught one. But I always wanted to capture that moment and take it to heart. I’ve loved the water since then.

Our visit to East Coast Beach was a bit regretful since I didn’t have with me a set of clothes to change in. I would have loved to feel the waves cascade over my body and feel those ripples massage my weary soul. I satisfied myself just by taking off my shoes and feeling the water rush over my sand-covered feet. It was so fun playing with my cousin, niece and nephew, taking time to capture those moments of happiness. It was a lovely feeling to share these moments with someone you love and not being a stranger in foreign land. We stayed till dusk and it was awesome to see the sun setting as my cousin and I sat on the sand, talked about this and that while watching the sun set. The horizon quickly changed from a hue of black and blue into a bright yellow-orange reddish color. The airplanes could now be seen more vaguely as they lined up the sky. The cargo vessels had their lights turned on as well. The sea sparkled from the rays of the sun. The park has turned on the lamps. The earth and the heavens became a stage in just a matter of minutes as the sun quickly concealed itself and a display of sparkling lights came on. I had a connection with the earth and the heavens that day.

The darkness came so fast that I regretted that it had to end. We walked along the coast towards the shower stalls to clean ourselves up. Mng. Raj was on his way from work to pick us up. We had dinner at a fancy restaurant way across town and I had a chance to savor that famous Nasi Lemak – a spicy local dish of seafood/meat, nuts and sun-dried, salted fish. This dish was very much recommended by my aunt. That was even spicier than the Korean dishes I’ve loved to eat back home. It was so spicy, I got a runny nose. It was so hot I got a bit teary-eyed. But I couldn’t stop myself from digging in. This was my next favorite dish to adobo, kimchi and bibimbap. It was a great dining experience. My first fine dining experience in foreign land.

From dawn till dusk, from morning to the dark of night, as the sun rose and set again, I got more excited that I couldn’t wait to see even a ray of sun pouring in from the window. Mng. Apple and Mng. Raj had a lot planned for the next day. I was embarrassed, a bit uncomfortable. Mng. Raj took the day off so he could drive us around the country. So, with the family, we went driving around Singapore. My cousin’s family lives in the Westside towards the Malaysian bridge and we drove around like there’s no tomorrow to the east, the north and south. Although it was just a glimpse of Singapore’s treasured attractions, I still was amazed to set my sights on Marina Bay Sands, with its majestic hotdog bun-like roof. Mng. Apple told me that hotdog bun-like thing contained the most majestic swimming pool. I was like, at the rooftop?! Cool! Got to check that out one day. Well, jot it down my second bucket list of things to do. And it’s dangerously close to overflowing again.

We passed by Sentosa, Mt. Faber, Madame Tussauds, Marina Bay Sands, Resorts World Singapore, Esplanade – Theatres by the Bay, The National Library, The Singapore Flyer, the famous Orchard Road, etc. And we went to this place where it was overlooking most of the city. I would have loved to try the rides but we were burning daylight and there were still lots of things to see. We went to Lucky Plaza and wow! It was marvelous. I’ve been told it’s where Filipinos meet up during their days off and have fun. We also passed by the financial district of Singapore – the Central Business District. It looked like Makati City. With lots of high rise buildings, I would have loved to visit all the shops and the scenic sites but I chucked it down my now filled-to-the-brim bucket. Singapore’s architecture really amazes me with its ancient feel. Even the biggest buildings had a touch of Singapore’s history and culture. The old Chinese and Malay temples I just got a glimpse off the car window has given me a feeling of comfort and unexplained delight. Even the smallest corners have left me falling more and more in love with this nation. There’s something mystifying about it all. I’ve had first-hand experience with one of those smallest corners when we’ve gone to eat in Little India. Whoa! It was a lot of food for one to take part in. But I finished all of it with much gusto. Singapore’s delectable cuisine is definitely something to look forward to.

Despite the blistering heat and the rivulets of sweat trickling down my now soaked tee, I’ve had the time of my life visiting the Lion City. I am sure this marvelous city has much more mysterious places hidden in its concrete jungle as well as its lush, green forests. I have yet to visit its natural wonders. I’ve felt a bit of a sting in my heart for not being able to see everything Singapore has to offer. The pain was a bit bittersweet. I believe that this pain will never go away until I get to experience the sweet taste of Mother Nature. I love the outdoors but I was sorry to just leave it at that, for the moment. This was enough to fuel my curiosity on what’s really going on and how it would feel to take a drive to the farthest corner of Singapore and witness the grandiosity of it all.

My two-day stay at the Lion City of SE Asia has been a surreal experience. It has been nothing but a memory I would always love to visit and experience again.

At East Coast Beach

At Lucky Plaza

Central Business District

A smile that launches a thousand ships

noreply@blogger.com (Lexa Elaine Capuyan) — Sat, 20 Dec 2014 10:27:00 +0800

He smiled. I gave him a wavering smile back.

It’s really amazing how a smile could touch even the deepest recesses of my tense, edgy nature. A smile as powerful and infectious as his. Yups. A smile so powerful that even my frozen, insensitive soul could sense a bit of a flutter towards that dazzling smile of his. A smile so powerful that it melts my heart and causes my knees to tremble and my step to falter. A smile so powerful that my fear of what’s to come whisked away like a bunch of fruit-flies caught in a heavy gust of wind. A smile so infectious that I was sure my visage mirrored his delightful expression. Excitement rushed through my veins despite having a feeling of apprehension towards my fate. An unexpected warmth despite the twirling storm I feel within me.

His gregarious smile broadened as I approached him. I faltered. But then he reached out his hand and greeted me in a poisonously sweet way, ‘Hello, there.’ God, that voice. It’s not enough that he has a dazzling smile. He also has that voice which made me hang on to every word he said. I’d call it a smooth baritone. Clear and calm. Certainly intelligent. Reasonable. Warm and gracious. Sexy. Uh, no. Sexy is not appropriate, given his role as a government official. Besides, sexy is in his eyes more than his voice. At least, that’s my take on him. I surprised myself then when I got out a meek, ‘Hello’ in return despite my being overwrought. He asked for my name. I froze. And that was when it all began.

It was a great afternoon in December when I arrived at Vancouver International Airport. The sun was beginning to set between two snow-capped mountains. I looked out the window as we were preparing for landing and the sea was so calm and serene. The horizon was an awesome hue of blue, orange, and pink. It felt like home. I blinked back the tears that threatened to fall. I miss home already – I miss my family, my relatives, my friends, my hometown. But I felt warm with the feeling that the love of my family, relatives and friends has been with me during the entire journey and that it’s also home where I’m bound to with my aunties, uncles and cousins.

I was excited and nervous at the same time. Excited to finally meet family and step foot in Canada after long awaited years of hardship and challenging situations. Nervous for the unknown/indefinite future. I was so unsure about my fate in my unrelenting search for greener pastures. By the time I got off the plane, I felt the cold, damp air rush through a gap between the gate and the landing platform. Whew! I thought, this was it. Here at long last. I followed the line of people rushing out to baggage claim. My adventurer’s streak however kicked in and I grabbed my phone and turned it on. I was amazed at how beautiful the outside was. I stopped to capture that moment and take a breath of the new air. Despite its being damp and a little somewhat stuffy and I think it smelled somewhat moldy or a little bit pungent, but still, it’s new air. Then, I saw a small aquarium with Jellyfish. In an airport? Well, I couldn’t resist capturing that moment as well. It felt heavenly. It felt like I was just born, well not quite yesterday as many others are, but the day before. I still feel that way, mind you. I seated myself in one of the lounge chairs by the Jellyfish aquarium and tried to calm my beating heart. I sent messages to my Aunts and mom about my arrival. I took a moment to indulge in that fleeting moment. Then I realized, there were no more people around.

I took a stroll along the walkway and the first person I met thought I was lost. Haha. Was I? I didn’t feel lost. I was enjoying the view and the sights outside and the long walk before you get to where the buzzing people are, running here and there towards the boarding gates. But I didn’t know I looked that lost. Maybe I had something written in my forehead that says, ‘I’m lost.’ I just donned my sweetest smile and asked him where I had to go next. This guy isn’t ‘the guy with the smile’. Although this was the first person who smiled at me during the 15-hour flight, he’s smile was a bit cold and professional. It was still a smile that could chip off an iceberg but not enough to chip off the iceberg in me. Where he showed me to next was where I met ‘The Guy with the Smile’.

I was standing in line for new temporary immigrants. And I was contemplating about all the things that happened within the past 3 days (that’s a whole lot different story) when his smile caught me unaware. He smiled. My face perked up and I gave him a wavering smile back.

His gregarious smile broadened as I approached him. I couldn’t explain what I was feeling as I got even closer. I faltered. But then he reached out his hand and greeted me in a poisonously sweet way, ‘Hello there.’ God, that voice. I answered with a meek, ‘Hello.’ Suddenly, he asked for my name. And that was when it all began. A few of his colleagues said goodbye with a bit of chitchat. He looked my way, smiled and told me to wait. All this time, I was nervously waiting. For what, I really don’t know. He waved goodbye to his friends. He turned to me once more and apologized. Oh, look at that! A man who apologizes. Good man! (Hehe) He then began asking me all sorts of personal questions such as which country I was coming from, where in Canada am I going to reside, who was my employer, etc. He typed all that information in his computer. And then I heard the printer. Yes!!! This is it! That was the most beautiful sound I heard for a long, long time! Ang bait ng Immigration Officer ko! Sabi ko na nga ba! That smile of his bodes well for a nervous being such as me. For one last time, he smiled at me and said, ‘Welcome to Canada!’ as he handed me my documents and my passport with my work permit attached. Those were the most beautiful three words I have heard for a long time as well, aside from a long string of I love you’s from family and friends!

It felt heavenly. I would have jumped up and down if it wasn’t for modesty’s sake. Although it somehow isn’t modesty’s fault. The real question there is, could I even jump? Anyway, I was so happy that I forgot I had to meet someone at the airport before I leave. But that’s another story. (I hope that person’s not reading this. He accepted my apology, though. But I still feel guilty ‘coz he travelled 30 minutes just to say, ‘Hi.’)

For those who are still wondering. Yes, the guy with the smile was my Immigration Officer. I still remember his name. And I think that name will be forever etched into my memories. As I also know it was that smile of his that has launched a thousand ships for me in this journey to a new world. I am merely a crew member.

Emotionally Drained and Stressed Out

noreply@blogger.com (Lexa Elaine Capuyan) — Sat, 28 Sep 2013 23:30:00 +0800

With the aim of just relieving my heart and mind of stress and all pent-up emotions, I’ve drafted a few lines of this last night after a bout of migraines and pricking pain in my chest. I've planned to delete it permanently from my CPU but what has happened today and the past few days has took a turn for the worse and thus has prompted me to just go along with finishing what I started or else my heart might explode from it all. So here it goes.

I am in pain - the worst kind. The kind that no amount of medication or surgical manipulation can ever cure. Emotional, spiritual pain. Those combined, is there even something left for me to live with? My heart is cramping - the kind of cramps that the more you try to tamp it down, the more it hurts. My lungs seem to have lost their ability to deliver the much-needed oxygen to the major organs in my body. It seems there's a lot of miniature dwarfs with hammers and hatchets pounding relentlessly inside my head. I couldn’t breathe. You know the feeling when you’re drowning and you try to swim upwards to break water and be able to breathe again but something seems to keep pulling you deeper into the water? Well, that’s how I am feeling right now. I’m drowning from all the lies and sins, from being able to live when those who deserve to live have already passed away, from everything.

I’ve asked Him a lot of times this: Why me, Lord? What have I so dreadfully done in my past life for me to gruellingly pay for it in this life? Lord, if you wanted to teach me a lesson in life, you've been most successful this time. If you think I deserve this harsh punishment for whatever I did in my past life, then this is it, Lord. I am all yours. But why, Lord? Am I really as strong as you think I am? How do I go about this? How do I live with it? Can I even get through this? My own family fails me - twice. I don't know. It's still out of respect that I call them family. Nakakahiya sa new-found friends ko. Nakakahiya sa mga taong nakapaligid sa akin. Nakakahiya sa mga taong mahal ako at mahal ko. Nakakahiya sa Inyo.

Lord, could you please do me a favor and just take me home with You? If this is life as it is today and it gets even harder as life goes on, then Lord, please take me home with You. I love you, Lord. But I don't think I could take anymore of their antics. I am so tired of their manipulative reasoning. I am so tired of hearing them spew nonsense from minds and mouths so filthy that you could smell the stench from Alaska and back. Answer me this Lord. Am I justified to feel angry? Am I reasonable to feel annoyed? Am I right to feel a tad bit peeved? Lord, am I even in my right mind to ask you of this? Either take me with You or let us burn in hell. I would even be so glad to grab hold of their hands and trod down to hell with them in atonement of my sins and theirs.

I really, really just want to drop off the face of the earth this very minute. Alam ko Lord na hindi ang isang taong tulad nilang malabong kausap ang sisira sa mga plano ko sa buhay, sa mga pangarap ko, sa pagsisikap kong maabot ang kalayaang matagal ko nang hinangad. But if worse comes to worst, Lord, I'll not even think twice. I'll drag them all down with me to the pits of hell in the blink of an eye.

My heart would explode from pain if I don’t let these all out. My 6pm-6am work as an online freelance contractor stresses me out enough. I don’t need some petty excuse of a person to add to that. They may not be worth my death but Lord I’d want to take their sins with me to hell and do the world a huge and excellent favour. Less me and them, I suspect it would rather be a wonderful world to live in with me and them out of the picture.

Rants and ravings of a stressed, confused, emotional Lexa Elaine.

Bomas-ang Urges Sagada, Besao Leaders To Back Windmill Farm Project

noreply@blogger.com (Lexa Elaine Capuyan) — Thu, 7 Mar 2013 00:13:00 +0800

SAGADA, MOUNTAIN PROVINCE- Engr. Rufino Bomas-ang urged community leaders in Sagada and Besao, Mountain Province to support the proposed windmill farm along Pilao- Langsayan Ridge on the boundary of the two towns, during two separate public consultations with renewable energy firm PhilCarbon on March 2, 2013.

“I believe in the project,” stressed PhilCarbon’s chairman, who is a native of Besao and an alumnus of St. Mary’s School (SMS) of Sagada in his talk at the Besao Multi-purpose Coop Building during the town’s Ubaya Festival. Later the same day, he reiterated the same conviction during another dialogue with the elders of Sagada at the St. Joseph Inn.

During the consultations, locals raised concerns on possible water supply diminishing, farm animal harm, health problems, and environmental hazards. Among the attendees were Gueday Barangay Captain Paul Casiwan, retired teacher Soledad Belingon,, and Besao Vice Mayor Harry Baliaga. Also in attendance were Doctor Leoncio Carlin, a native Sagadian and former Medical Director of St. Luke’s Hospital who is currently based in Ohio, USA, and Professor Andrew Bacdayan, another native Sagadian with a Master’s degree in forestry and a Ph.D in economics and is currently a retired professor based in Texas, USA. Both Dr. Carlin and Professor Bacdayan expressed support for the wind farm.

In response to the various concerns raised, Bomas-ang talked about the company’s responsibilities prescribed by the Department of Environment and Natural Resources, and community benefits that PhilCarbon is providing over and above what the law requires.

He denied environmental, agricultural, and health threats saying windmills are safe as evaluated by international standards.

“Nu dati ay um-a, um-a met laeng (crop farms will still be crop farms even with the windmills),” responded Bomas-ang when asked if wind turbine blades would scare cows away.

Bomas-ang also showed a video clip of windmills in other countries along the shoreline and on top of mountains to give the locals a better picture of windmills.

Ruth Yu- Owen, President of PhilCarbon, explained to the locals the distribution of taxes and other benefits as mandated by laws.

“We are here to help and we are here with you,” said Owen after revealing that PhilCarbon has decided to allot a community fund- on top of the royalties- that will go directly to the host communities.

In an interview, Bomas-ang lamented the fact that a group is spreading misinformation about and campaigning against the project.

“Our elders came to be clarified on the various allegations being made by this group. With simple science and common sense, we hope we have shown that these are baseless claims,” said Bomas-ang.

He also announced that PhilCarbon is sponsoring another batch of locals to see the Bangui, Ilocos Norte windmill farm to help them better understand the project.

ABOUT US AND THE PROJECT:

The Sagada-Besao Wind Farm is a government project- the Pilao-Langsayan Ridge being a priority due to its local wind regime. A study conducted by the Department of Energy on the nationwide wind patterns claims that the Pilao-Langsayan Ridge is a wind path, as with that of Bangui, Ilocos Norte. The Department of Energy has therefore granted PhilCarbon a contract to develop the proposed Sagada-Besao Wind Power Project.

PhilCarbon (www.philcarbon.com) is a Philippine renewable energy company specializing in the development of clean sources of power from natural resources such as wind, hydro, bio-mass and geothermal. Aiming for a Philippines that is free of pollution and self-sufficient, this developer, with the help of the Department of Energy, Department of Environment and Natural Resources, and the Provincial Environment and Natural Resources Officer seeks for an opportunity from the locals of putting up a wind farm on the mountain ridges bordering Sagada and Besao.

The setting up of 10 wind turbines will generate a 15MW capacity that can fuel the homes, farms, and businesses of the locals. The prospect of producing a clean, renewable energy source for the community is definitely a great initiative. Wind power, as an alternative to fossil fuels, is plentiful, literally renewable, widely distributed, clean, produces no greenhouse gas emissions during operation, and uses little land. Feasibility studies and other environmental assessments are taking place to ensure that no natural resources are harmed during the construction and installation as well as during the operation of these turbines.

Sagada Etag Festival: A Call for Cultural Transcendence

noreply@blogger.com (Lexa Elaine Capuyan) — Wed, 6 Feb 2013 18:28:00 +0800

It was a cold, chilly day, quite typical for January and early February in Sagada. A cool breeze stirred the air with only a lingering hint of warmth. Sagada isn’t something like the terrains to the south. It is ruggedly beautiful and everything seems oversized – huge clumps of trees all densely clustered together in the midst of rolling mountains, grand masses of rocks in the oddest places as if strewn there by God’s whimsical hand, cavernous hollows in the earth linked together to bring colossal burrows into existence, world-renowned hanging coffins dangling from a sheer mountainside portraying the opulent culture of the I-Sagada. And of course, there is the Sagada Etag Festival, the biggest annual celebration the town could offer beginning from the last week of January lasting to the early days of February. I love Sagada, always will.

The recently concluded Sagada Etag Festival has given me hope of ridding my rusty mind of a lot of clutter through writing. Hmmm… I wish I could say the same for cleaning the house. Even at my age, I still get chided for lack of housekeeping skills. Up until this day, I still could hear my mom every morning running up the stairs to wake us up so we could scrub the floor and start sweeping. And my college roommates say I’m cranky when day breaks. Now you know why. :D But, enough already about these trips down memory lane. One could get overly fatigued traipsing down mine.

I really don’t know why but I think ever since I’ve come into existence, my body clock was set to go off at past 8AM. I’m not a morning person, that much you know about me. So for me, 8AM is just like your average 5AM. But for the festivities the Sagada Etag Festival brings, I woke up at half past seven and took an icy early morning bath (at that time, I thought it may be my last bath in Sagada), and got ready to watch the parade for my mom and brother have already left to join the march. I left home with the sun barely peering out of the clouds. That was all I needed for me to start the day with a triumphant hop and an enthusiastic smile plastered on my zit-pervaded face.

Graced by the presence of the province’s own Congressman Maximo Dalog, the Sagada Etag Festival took off with a grand procession of ornate fashion parading down the streets. There’s that dash of emotion that emboldens you to get lost in the color and life of this happy occasion. Led by the PRO-COR Band of Camp Dangwa, the Sagada PNP colour guards channelled their way to the grassy softball ground below the church evident of grazing animals preceding this celebration, commencing the civic parade. The Local Government Unit of Sagada led by Mayor Eduardo Latawan Jr. as well as visitors from the sister municipalities of Sagada and neighboring towns trailed Sagada’s Finest and the PNP Cordillera Regional Office Band.

I loved the sound of the trumpets and the bugles of the Army’s marching band but the Sagada Central School Drum and Lyre Corps was my own pride and honor. I missed the rhythm of the drums and the wonderful sound of the lyres, also the graceful swing of flags of the majorettes. I missed playing the triangle, the tambourine, the flute, and the lyre. Of course, the SCS pupils were amusing to watch for I remembered how small we were then, innocently proud, waving and smiling at spectators lured to this rustic getaway by its etag and tourist destinations. The Sagada National High School students gave me a sense of pride as I for one have traversed those streets with my head held high just as they have done. Much to my delight, who was I to espy but the living souls who have made us who we are today, our teachers. Thanks to them, I’ve learned my ABC’s, do-re-mi’s, 1-2-3’s, and the missing x-y-z’s well enough to put them to good use.

Oblivious of the typical cold temperature of Sagada, street dancers from the different zones of Sagada adorned in different ethnic garbs swayed their hips and raised their arms to the beat of the gongs as they strutted along the streets with heads held high. The painful sting of the wind and the intense cold was nothing to the many viewers from the different barangays of Sagada and all around the Philippines and the world who've come to witness such genuine talents. The parade was really grand and fascinating as people in traditional Igorot costumes danced and played the gongs along the street as they pirouetted their way to their destination.

And so the parade ends, the program starts and Congressman Dalog takes to the stage to give his inspirational message. The wholehearted gist of his message was music to my ears. A cultural presentation from the different zones of Sagada followed afterward. And then after that, the ground demonstration of the students from the different high schools in the locality. The morning culminated as Sagada Mayor Eduardo Latawan, Jr. shared wise words to every listening ear. That afternoon and the next few days promised a lot of sports, academic and non-academic quests, indigenous games, singing and dance contests, and the much-anticipated Sagada Got Talent portion which is a new venture this year. Also new this year is the presence of the Besao-Sagada Wind Farm Project, a project proposed by PhilCarbon which is a ‘Philippine renewable energy company focused in the development of clean sources of power from natural resources such as wind, hydro, biomass and geothermal’. The Windfarm project booth situated in front of the proud Sagada Etag booth aims to build awareness among the people of Sagada and Besao in relation to their goal of putting up a renewable energy source to cater to the Besao and Sagada communities. During the first three days of the festival, a video presentation of the said proposal had been airing on the widescreen monitor the booth had the liberty of setting up.

An offshoot of the town’s fiesta, the Sagada Etag Festival is celebrated alongside the Feast of the Virgin Mary (Sagada’s Patron Saint) and starts from the last week of January to the first week of February. This year makes it the third year Sagada celebrates its Etag Festival. This festival entails a lot of things. Cultural transcendence being one of the most important. The culture the I-Sagada represents is one of character and a sense of oneness and of their aspirations. It provides an idea of who they are and what they stand for. It is a culture which transcends even to their ballads and dances – a way of life. Despite the immense adjustments and trends modernization reverberates to the town’s ethnic sensibility, devoting oneself to the traditional way of life has never been a drawback to the people residing in this beautiful and magnificent tourist town. Beliefs, practices, and traditions of manufacturing etag or smoked mountain ham is as important as preserving every dap-ay, every sacred place of worship, and respecting every belief, practice and tradition of Sagada. It is our legacy. One to be passed down from generation to generation to celebrate our identity as a people – our identity as humanity. This is one of the reasons the Etag Festival was conceptualized. Aside from its known aim to promote tourism, the Etag Festival is also a celebration and a call to preserve and sustain whatever culture our forefathers have handed down to us. Aside from these, this festival goes beyond boundaries. It’s a festival for everyone -- the rich and poor, the old and young, the traditional and contemporary, the foreign and local visitors, the excited and bored, the happy and sad, the smitten and broken-hearted. It’s a festival that encompasses everything – indigenous and modern games or sports, ethnic and modern dances and songs, simple and challenging activities, day and night affairs.

As these events fall into place, the delightful laughter heard and content smiles plastered on hundreds of eager faces despite the sprawling heat of the midday sun is a measure of success. Playing host to hundreds of visitors may somewhat be common in Sagada as a tourist destination but preparation and planning and making this festival a victory is no easy feat. It is the persistence and ambitions of the Local Government Unit, National Commission for Culture and Arts, Smart/Talk ‘n Text, and other sponsors at this monumental task that has given this event its success.

At the end of the day, the music in my own heart emanates a desire to dance and sing as well. But to me, dancing or singing, be it for an audience or be it in front of a mirror, is like being naked at a wedding reception. However, expressing my thoughts through writing is a welcome treat -- roving my hungry mind for words to tell you that writing is just like eating at the cooking booths and food stalls the Etag Festival has instigated. And, what a find! Eating in Sagada is an experience of its own. You could taste the essence of every slice and dice the delicacy has gone through before being rustled up and balanced with a toss of indigenous flavor. And so I, for one, got stymied to eat and eat… and eat some more. It’s really a tough job, but someone’s got to do it.

Sagada may be a salad bowl of cultures traditional and contemporary but the food, excellent service, the view, and the hospitality of the people twirls this into a melting pot of mystifying grandeur. From the food, the language, and the people’s way of life, one could learn the luster of the place, the lilting music and the elegant and graceful dance of the I-Sagada’s. So, is Sagada really the pearl and pride of the Cordillera? Well, you’ve just have to come here and find out for yourself. It could be worth the trip.

“We are the champions, my friends”... The Antadao National High School students give justice to the lyrics of the song by Queen as they flounce their way to victory during the ground demonstration competition. Portrayed here are examples of ethnic artifacts the I-Sagadas use in their everyday living.

An Endless Waterfall

noreply@blogger.com (Lexa Elaine Capuyan) — Tue, 29 Jan 2013 00:50:00 +0800

Oscar Wilde tells us that the smallest act of kindness is worth more than the grandest intention.

I always thought having my mom, the perfect mom despite all her imperfections and shortcomings, was the greatest gift I’ve received ever. To Charles, it’s YOU.

Just July of this year, Charles Ansibey, 19 years old, a resident of Ambasing, Sagada and last-born child to Carmen Peng-as and Odasco Ansibey underwent his chemotherapy sessions for treatment of Acute Myelogenous Leukemia (AML). Charles or ‘Ambot’ as he is so fondly called by his family and close friends has been initially diagnosed at Baguio General Hospital to have High Grade Myelodysplastic Syndrome, which is a blood-related medical condition that involves the ineffective production of blood cells from the bone marrow. His condition started three weeks prior to being admitted at Baguio General Hospital last May 2012 when he experienced low back pain, nape pain and fatigue. A week after that, he had a tooth extraction and was noted to had difficulty of controlling the bleeding and was given medications by the same dentist who had his tooth extracted. Since then, Charles was easily exhausted. Persistence of his condition prompted him therefore to seek consult at the school clinic where CBC was done and which revealed a diagnosis of anemia, thus the referral to BGH. A month after his admission to the hospital, Charles’ condition has escalated to a diagnosis of Acute Myelogenous Leukemia, which is a cancer of the blood and bone marrow. Charles is therefore advised to have 6 cycles of chemotherapy monthly (amounting to around Php 17000 or around US $400 per cycle, excluding other medical and therapeutic regimen and other hospital bills) but with the meager income his parents gain from farming, it is undeniably a mystery where the family could come up with that amount.

Due to the much-anticipated efforts of his townmates, most especially his batchmates in Sagada National High School, frenzied pleas for help splayed all over the internet and mobile phones. This in a way served as a spark that spurred text brigades, social networking sites, personal blogging sites, e-mail messaging, word of mouth, pens and papers -- all these have come in handy for helping Charles and his family. This brigade to help Charles has gone on for more than six months and up to now, good Samaritans from all over the country and the world are extending their help and concern for Charles.

This just goes to prove that when life gets difficult or even when it seems good, it is often hard to reflect on what a great God we do have and to give thanks to Him. And God is so very good to Charles. The family is grateful for all the blessings pouring in. That’s an immense gratitude, a big ‘thank you’, to all those who prayed and extended their hands to help a brother, a friend, a nephew, a child – a stranger to most but still they did their duty as loving, caring, thoughtful souls. The assistance granted to Charles and his family has tried to offset the expense of his hospital bills, medication expenses and chemotherapy sessions. It has given him hope and thus had been one of the many reasons he has gone back to school and live life more comfortably, thanks to the support of every Tom, Dick and Harry nationwide and from all over the world. Up until his passing, Charles’ angels were at work. The P21,332.00 Christian Aligo collected from the locality, friends and good Samaritans nationwide and from all over the world has paid for Charles’ first chemotherapy session. Hospital fees, succeeding chemotherapy sessions and other medications had also been taken care of by an amount of P2611.50 from Sagada National High School (Charles’ high school alma mater) faculty and students sent thru Hanee Kimmot, Charles’ classmate; P4825.00 from Sagada Central School faculty thru Hanee Kimmot; P20,500.00 from Mary Ann Dalde, Paul Tiongan and Silvestre Meand (Sir Joseph Caligtan’s classmates, who then was Teacher in-charge of SagadaNHS) -- members of Mountain State Agricultural College (MSAC, now Benguet State University) Batch 1981 sent to Charles thru Esther Cosme and Precy Julian (Vice President of MSAC ‘81) for his (Charles) medical assistance; P1000.00 from MSAC Batch ’81 officers; P1000.00 from Treasure Link Cooperative Society; US$250 amounting to P10,400 from Sir Daniel Thalkar, Peace Corps volunteer assigned to Sagada National High School (He’s now back in the States at his hometown in Pleasantville, Pennsylvania.); US$635 from BIBAK Association Northeast USA (BIBAK-NE); P5000.00 from Monica Ghanna Binayong from Malaysia; P2000.00 from Kikay Rapadas of Qatar; and P10,020.00 from someone who wished his name withheld. The family is also grateful to the 41 blood donors (from Nov. 16 to Dec. 4) and the previous batch of blood donors last July who each have gladly provided 500ml of their blood.

Last December 30, 2012, a variety show (created by SagadaNHS Batch 2011) to benefit Charles was launched at the Sagada Community Court at 6PM; no entrance fee since it was an open venue. After passing the hat, this show for a cause reaped P14,505 from the hard-earned money of all the local and foreign people who cared enough to watch and be a part of the cause. Entertainers volunteered for the cause and some talented and skillful people from the audience came down from the bleachers to showcase their talents and donate as well. Staying true to the shows aim to share the “spirit of Christmas by giving hope and love to people around us”, the event was more than a success.

Last December 23, Charles was discharged. I’ve heard that he has been confined last November 16 and was brought to the Intensive Care Unit last November 29, for almost a week. He just got transferred out of the ICU last December 5. And thanks to every prayer, every peso, every dollar, every helping hand Charles is spending Christmas with his family and relatives out of the hospital and everyone is hoping that the worst is over. Excel Botigan, one of Charles’ closest friends has told me that his (Charles) sister informed her of his state the night before his discharge. Accordingly, their whopping bill was something they hadn’t ever held in their own hands and couldn’t even fathom. Charles needed our help more than ever. Everyone had been rejoicing that Charles had become stronger but they (the family) still needed to pay the hospital bills. It was just two days after Christmas Day and Charles went back to the hospital. He stayed there doing his best to get better but the Lord had decided to lift all the pain and suffering Charles had been experiencing. Charles joined the Lord our God in heaven at about 11PM last January 24 and was interred last January 28 in his hometown, Sagada.

Help from all around the country and even the world are still flowing in. Charles is in God’s hands and is one of those many angels watching us from above and guiding us in whatever we do. Thank you to everyone who prayed, provided for and lent a hand to Charles. There were those from Malaysia, Hongkong, Qatar, and USA who willingly shared prayers and some of their hard-earned money. Also, good Samaritans from the country (Philippines), Austria, the UK and California have promised to contribute to compensate any medical expenses; as with the teachers and students of Sagada National High School and Sagada Central School, Sagada populace, and to each and every soul who in every way are still helping. May God bless you all a thousand fold!

These small compassionate deeds (though in a way are great) people do for Charles is just proof that the world is not at its end – that there are still ‘people’ out there in this inhumane and unjust world. They are truly, heaven-sent. YOU are one of them – Charles’ angels. To quote Charles, attitudes like yours made him realize that God is always at good to show that “I’m not alone facing this kind of struggle in life. During those times that I'm down, I'm really glad that I have around these good people (you) trying to ease the pain and [this] gives me hope.”

I took the liberty to lift this last e-mail message (from Charles to Christian) from Christian Aligo’s blog: “Through this letter, I would like to emphasize my deepest gratitude for all of you who have shown their generous support in so many ways which had allowed me to recover from pain and be healthy again. Attitudes like yours MADE me realize that God is always at good to show that I'm not alone facing this kind of struggle in life. During those times that I'm down, I'm really glad that I have around these good people (you) trying to ease the pain and gives me hope. Those days that I'm in the hospital is definitely the worst days in my life and I managed to gain strength to overcome it because of your aid.

From the bottom of my heart, thank you very much for your great help and support that you had given me. I'm happy to say that I’m doing well already to keep moving forward in attaining our goals and wishes in life and that would not have been possible without you guys!

I only pray that in all of these things that you've done, God will always be there to support and guide us.

Again, thank you and God Bless!!! --Charles”

Here’s a little something I, myself, yearn to do for everyone. To do things. To be kind. To give thanks. Give hope. Lend a hand. Share thoughts. Give love. This is my gift to you all -- creating a cycle of giving and receiving and thanking… just like an endless waterfall… I yearn to pass it on.

LEXA ELAINE D. CAPUYAN

Save A Life, Save A Dream

noreply@blogger.com (Lexa Elaine Capuyan) — Sat, 30 Jun 2012 01:22:00 +0800

Save a life, save a dream. This is one of the things I hope would come true for a dear friend and brother.

Charles Ansibey has been a part of my life in one way or the other and I want it still to be so. The times I met him as a Supreme Student Government President and as a student has never left my mind. Senior’s Day as a guest speaker for the batch and seeing him so well and healthy has never failed my memory. The time I’ve been brushing elbows and rubbing shoulders with him has never felt a bit tiring or even boring. Charles has this kind of countenance that brings out the best in him, the leader in him, the brotherly care in him, the strength in him. I’ve met Charles lots of times but the best part of it all was seeing him so full of energy and healthy. I haven’t seen him of late but from the stories I hear from his co-batchmates and some friends of mine, tears threatened to fall. I never was so shocked when I heard from Sir Caligtan. It never came to mind that a child that strong and healthy could suddenly be diagnosed of leukemia, cancer of the blood. That’s what’s most disconcerting. A healthy and strong child suddenly diagnosed of leukemia months after he graduated from high school. What hurts the most is that nothing or no one had ever suspected that he is sick. As the pathophysiology of cancer, particularly of the blood, is most concerned, I damn well could say ‘Cancer is really a bitch!’

In this regard, I have been fervently trying to track Charles to the point of sending messages to my friends who were already nurses at Saint Luke’s just so I could be updated with his health and everything; and thus relay the information to those concerned and ask for help. Though I failed to reach him as he already was discharged, I kept praying for him that he would keep his faith and keep believing, that he'd stay strong and that the Lord God give him more strength and make him heal and be well.

I therefore would ardently want to ask my dear readers to please help us in collecting any amount in order for us to help Charles with his 6 cycles of chemotherapy and hospital bills. I am asking everyone to please help Charles heal; and thus, save his dream of becoming a successful person one day. That dream, I’ve lifted off a page from their yearbook at Sagada National High School of which I’ll attach with this plea for help. I do hope that this post would move your hearts and open doors of helpfulness and mercy and lend us a hand in sourcing out funds for Charles’ chemotherapy sessions, hospital bills, and other medical expenses. So, what are you waiting for? Help us save a life and save a dream!

Please feel free to contact us through the numbers and e-mail address specified above. or you can visit our Facebook page. For more relevant information about Charles and donation drives or calls for help, please visit Christian Aligo's appeal to help Leukemia patient Charles.

Royale: The Anniversary Experience

noreply@blogger.com (Lexa Elaine Capuyan) — Wed, 20 Jun 2012 23:26:00 +0800

There. I’ve dreamed it. I’ve seen it. I’ve experienced it. I’ve been in it. I’ve been a part of it. And now, I’ll be it.

Just last Sunday, I’ve had the opportunity to be a part of one of the most surreal experiences I’ve ever had in my life. A dream come true. One of the dreams that had turned into reality. Yes, I wasn’t on stage like Sir Yosie Saraniogon or my mentor Sir Junatz Estacio or our Supremo Sir Adrian Alebin but I felt as if it was I in the limelight. Once or twice, I gave my best pose as the cameras flashed and put on my best smile and brandished a beauty queen wave as the video cameras grazed the lower box seats to where I and some of the Dreamteam Jr. Spartans were perched. My heart thudded to the reverberating beat of the drums. A lot of times, I’ve screamed at the top of my lungs, drowned by the thundering yells and boisterous bawls of my seatmates and by the echoing ‘Ooohs’ and ‘Aaahs’ of our guests. A few other times, I rose to my feet and jumped (imagine that!) for joy as people around me clapped their hands and made a cacophony of noises that were caterwauling as well. Yes, I’m not one of the proclaimed winners, but being a Royalista, I for one am already a winner.

Having Sir Junatz and Ma’am Che behind me, cheering on, I’ve realized a lot of things. As I stepped into the portals of Royale Business Club-Baguio, I took a deep breath, sucked in the air, and closed my eyes. This is my new family. No regrets. This is my stepping-stone to better living, a better life for my family. I readily knew that I had more than my own fate in my hands. I’d have to be driven to lead, driven to excel, and driven to serve. These I learned just by being around Sir Junatz and Ma’am Che, and of course my fellow Royalistas. The challenge now lies in my hands. I’ll have fantastic tumbles across, I know, but then I’ll emerge victorious as I learn things along the way. That’s a promise I made to myself.

I’ve always thought joining Royale Business Club was going to be somewhat of a part-time job, something that would only cater to and purge the doubts people around me are eliciting in addition to my desires of having to socialize and communicate with others and my ultimate desire to improve my family’s socio-economic status. I never thought that it would make me feel this way – above the clouds. Watching all the testimonies of those who had made their dreams come true has heightened my desires of not just having a support system but also rather aiming to stand on stage and also testify that, “I made it. All my hopes and dreams have come true. You’re next.” As one person after the other had their VTRs up on the screen and as they came up on stage in person to testify, I got more and more enlivened and exhilarated. Now I realize what Up Junatz really meant by dragging me to all the supposedly previous trainings I had to attend. Royale Business Club’s 6th Anniversary was the inception of all trainings and the foundation of many more activities and events for the year and the years to come.

Until this day, I couldn’t get that astounding and incredible feeling out of my system. The experience was phenomenal and mind-blowing. I’ve gone crazy. I’m out of my wits. I’m mental. I’m at the verge of falling into a realm which I haven’t encountered before – a mysterious and deeper realm posing challenges and escapades encumbered with unending dreams, everlasting hopes, undying beliefs, unyielding faith, and inviolable trust towards people around no other than my fellow Royalistas. Yes, this is just the beginning. The best is yet to come! Dahil dito sa Royale, payaman ka!

And for that, I thank the Lord God for guiding me through this unforgettable life journey and for getting us safely to SM Mall of Asia Arena for the event, my mentor Junatz for his perseverance and for giving me this great opportunity to be a part of Turbocharged Jr Spartans, my mentor Ate Che for patiently coordinating and being so understanding, Tito Boyet and Tita Loui as with Tito Noli for the positive response and for the ride, Pia, Ate Mai and Ate Annie for the camaraderie, and for every other Royalista who in one way or another has helped me in this venture. Mabuhay kayong lahat! God bless!

(To be continued…)

Remembering my Dad, Robert 'Bravo' Bacayan Capuyan: A Father's Day Special

noreply@blogger.com (Lexa Elaine Capuyan) — Tue, 19 Jun 2012 09:54:00 +0800

I thought of you with love today but that is nothing new

Living up there in Heaven a handsome angel are you

Oh, Daddy if I only knew

Verily I would have told you that I’ll miss you too

Every hour every minute every moment every day

You are the perfect dad, the best in any way

Oh Daddy if I only knew the day you passed away

Unshed tears, untold words I should have fired away

Daddy, I love you, I know that much is true

And now in His keeping, God has embraced you

Daddy, I miss you, the days are so blue

Daddy, all I have is memories of you and your picture in a frame

You may be gone from this world but I love you all the same.

Robert ‘Bravo’ B. Capuyan – a name that stridently screams ‘DAD’. I was a wee bit of a bundle of diapers and I knew Dad had always been there for me. I’ve glanced at pictures of me evidently cuddled in his arms, of him blatantly rocking me to sleep, of him palpably feeding me. Dad had been to me a mother and father rolled into one just as Mom is these days. Stories I heard from my mother made alligator tears inch down my cheeks as I imagine how Dad had single-handedly taken care of us every single day as Ma was teaching in school, also painstakingly working hard for our future – the now. It is impossible to speak of my father without also speaking of my mother, because they were one. Together, they showed me what true love was like, taught me what a marriage should be. And Dad loved us all more than he loved himself. When it became too hard for him to live on, the pain that was the greatest for him was never his own, but rather the pain that he saw in us.

With Dad, Lynette and Lyan

My father was one of those curious, intuitive and logical fathers who are always fiddling with even the smallest of things. He was the most tenacious person I knew. Ferocious, focused, and fueled by a need to be his own man, which he accomplished in countless ways until the very end. He was not a carpenter but he could restore a dilapidated doghouse or build a chicken coop from scratch and other things that needed revamping. He was not an architect or an engineer but he helped plan and oversee the construction of Grandma Basali’s house in Dao-angan. He was not a mechanical engineer but he was so adept at fixing car troubles. He was not a chef but he could cook a scrumptious meal that would have your growling stomach shut up with elated satisfaction and a surreal experience. He was not a blacksmith but he could get anything metal and iron, shining and razor sharp. He was not a dressmaker or a tailor but he could stitch the worn out clothes of my dolls and stuffed toys. He was not a teacher but he taught us how to spell, read and write among other things like what is right and what is wrong. He was not a dictionary but he had lots of words up his sleeve. He was not a doctor but he could kiss away the pain from having my knees and elbows scathed. He was not a nurse but he gave us his tender, loving care. He was not Superman or Batman or Spiderman but he was and still is my hero. A lot of things he was not; but more than anything else, he was my Dad.

So much goes into that simple statement. He was the example I looked up to. He was my friend and was sometimes my enemy. He was my mentor and protector. He showed me what life was all about, and he showed me at a very young age. I used to fear him for being austere but I never thought he was already teaching me one of the most valuable lessons in life – standing up for what you believe in. I learned and understood a lot of things as I grew up in his care. I learned that the most important thing he had was us, his family. Though he may never had said it out loud, I know that he was really proud of what we have become. We are who we are now because we had a father like him. My father never showed his feelings. You would only see that look that told you that you did something great, and seeing him like that made you feel like you owned the world. That’s the way Dad was. He was intuitive. He somehow knew what to say and what to do, even in those times when you had not spoken. And though he knew what to say, in so many ways, he was a man of few words. You could always count on one important thing, though. Whatever he said, though the words were not expansive, they were the right words.

One big happy family... Luke was still under construction... hehehe... :D

Daddy was an angel long before he died. He was very strict as a father but that’s only because he cared for us and loved us. He was a very kind person and was always ready to help. He always had a solution to every problem and had his ways of making things simple. He never asked anybody for help but he was a very generous man, and he never wanted to be acknowledged for anything he did. When he helped, he simply helped. Dad was a strong and proud man. Quiet and reserved as well. You’d probably be surprised to know that his artistic ability was marvelous. I used to ask him to draw my art projects for me when I was a kid. He’d usually do these for me but then he would tell me to try drawing them on my own or otherwise he’d show me how it’s done. This artistic ability was not necessarily a trait that he displayed to his friends – he came from a time where art was not always the way to survive.

Happy and contented children
forebodes a happy and content family.
Thanks Mom! Thanks, Dad!

Love. That’s what always prevailed and the only way to survive. I never doubted that he loved me. Even at times when he came home late drowned in alcohol, seething and smoldering in cigarette smoke, I never doubted his love for us. No, my father was not perfect, but who in this world is? He was, however, a warrior... a jack-of-all-trades... a hero… a man of integrity and dignity... and for that, I am forever grateful. And I never doubted my father’s love.

With each spoon he fed us, with each shoelace he tied, with each bathwater he heated, with each shampoo and soap he lathered us with, with each caress he gave us, with each tear he shed for us, with each fishing pole he'd taught us how to cast, with each picnic in Danum Lake he'd prepared for us, with each smile, camera in hand, as we opened our Christmas gifts with much anticipation, with each ribbon he pinned and each medal he hung on our necks, with each and every little thing he did for us, he showed us how much he loved us. The tender and loving care he showed us was for me, more than enough to cover up and make up for all his imperfections. He may be an alcoholic and a smoker but he never ever failed to be a loving father and faithful husband. It may have been too hard for him to change his ways but he managed to do away from alcohol and cigarettes. I’ve seen how difficult it was for him but because of his love for Mom and us, his three daughters and a son, he’d succeeded. That is the greatest gift that a father can give to his family – love.

I miss you so much, Daddy. This world may forget that you ever lived but I will forever cherish your memories and would always remember that you have lived a fulfilling and dignified life. Daddy, to me, you are not dead. You will never die. Because I know that in my heart, you still live. I know that every hand you shook, every cheek you’ve pecked, every tear you’ve wiped away, every shoulder you’ve cried on, every arm you’ve brushed gave life to your own memories; that you still live in everyone who ever knew you. This I’m sure of, Dad – you will be dearly missed and your memories treasured, safely kept and locked in our hearts. I love you, Daddy! Happy Father's Day!

Remembering Grandma Basali

noreply@blogger.com (Lexa Elaine Capuyan) — Fri, 24 Feb 2012 21:32:00 +0800

Gone forever yet her memories linger

Right in my heart she dwells; I’ll always remember

All the days she’d lived, her love and care so tender

No matter who, no matter what, no matter wherever

Discerned the good in everyone she’d encounter

My heart falters to get the drift she’s not here

A star from the sky, she’s watching, however.

Basali, a name I ne’er would ever forget

All times with her so worthwhile spent

Sitting by the fireplace up in heaven she’d be

A beautiful angel watching over you and me

Lola’s hug, a mother’s love, or a sister’s kiss

I wish she was here ‘coz we all these miss.

It’s been a year since Grandma Basali passed away but she was always in my mind every single moment from the day she did. I’ve come to know what it really meant when people say ‘you never know how important that person is until he or she’s gone’. That’s how it feels when you love someone so much but then in an instant, they would be gone forever.

There haven’t been much time spent between my grandmother and I when I was a child, for as long as I could remember, but I do believe that my grandmother was and will always be a woman of the world — a caring and protective mother, an industrious and responsible daughter, a generous and loving grandmother, a no-holds-barred and compassionate aunt, a giving and forgiving sister, a motivating and understanding relative, a dependable and respectful in-law, a trusted and trusting friend.

Yes, that’s what the name Rosaria ‘Basali’ Naoy Capuyan holds. She may be petite but to me, she held the world at her hands. That said, I know of one thing (which my mother and father relayed to us when we were young). Grandma Basali was never one to shy away from ominous rumblings of danger or crumble down when storms of challenges rush past her. She was never one to back down. She was never a person to think of herself first before others. Never selfish. Never one to cower when bolts of obstacles strike from the heavens. Instead, she braved every raging storm, every bullet of trouble, every downpour which brought danger to her loved ones. My grandmother was that strong – a superhero in my own squinty inscrutable eyes.

I know how hard it can be saying goodbye. I’ve been through that a dozen times before. My dad, my manung Caryl, my manung Doclan, my friend Darwin, my Uncle Greg, my Uncle Rudy, my uncle Jesus, my uncle Steve, half a dozen other people I’ve come to love, and now Grandma. But I’ve never thought of them dead. Because I know that in my heart, they all still live. They’re not dead because I know that every hand they touched, every cheek they’ve pecked, every tear they’ve wiped away, every shoulder they’ve cried on, every arm they’ve brushed gave life to their memories; that they all still live in everyone who knows them.

But never again will I hear my grandma’s voice. Never again will I see those beautiful 'bolinawan' eyes. Never again will I see her get out of her seat and brave to crawl the downward path to the pigpen to feed the pigs and crawl right back up to the house while weeding. Never again will I see her hunched down uprooting my Uncle Tim's freshly planted flowers. Never again will I see her talking to the ‘seemingly moving’ images on a magazine. Lots of things I will never ever see again except when I reel back to back when. I know that she will be dearly missed and her memories never forgotten.

Grandma, the greatest reward in my life is knowing you. Nothing in the world could ever replace one second of the time I was lucky enough to spend with you. God had a special plan for you, Grandma. I think He knew that Heaven couldn't ever really be Heaven without you. I love you and cherish you with all my heart. I see you in the sunshine and I feel your presence in every warm breeze. As you sit now upon puffy clouds set against blue summer skies, keep watching over us. You are still with us all.

I hope that someday when I am able to pay the debt that all men pay, Grandma would be there standing beside St. Peter, my father, Uncle Rudy, Uncle Greg, Uncle Steve and Uncle Jesus, smiling, reaching out her hand to me and welcoming me to enter those ever-famous Pearly Gates.

Feb 14: Just Another Day of Love

noreply@blogger.com (Lexa Elaine Capuyan) — Tue, 14 Feb 2012 07:46:00 +0800

It’s once again the middle of February and a gust of romantic breeze brushes past every nook and cranny. Candle-lit dinners, bouquets of red roses cradled in the arms of ladies, kisses splattered on every gentleman’s cheek, great big hugs and a kiss from friend to friend, melted chocolates mustached on sweet-toothed couples, families praying together and staying together, romantic dates among lovers – love is definitely in the air!

February 14, just like any other day, is a special day. Some may think that it’s a special day for single people to go out and meet other single people. Some think of Valentine’s Day as a day to ‘mourn’ their single life. Some are reminded during Valentine’s day that they don’t have anyone beside them to honor love. But isn’t love supposed to be in the air every single day as well? A lot of people think that Valentine’s day is just for couples, for lovers, for married people. Well, I beg to disagree. It doesn’t mean that if you don’t have a boyfriend or girlfriend, a husband or wife, that you are not able to celebrate Valentine’s day. Every single one of us have our own little ways of celebrating Valentine’s day regardless of our civil status. Lovers and couples may most benefit from Valentine’s day but it is also a special day for single and unmarried people. I’m single but am contented enough with how I spend my Valentine’s Day.

Valentine’s Day is just like Christmas Day – giving gifts and exchanging cards. It’s like birthdays as well. It’s just like any other day in the lunar or roman calendar or Chinese calendar or whatever calendar you may think of. You may think I’m bitter but I’m just stating a fact – that February 14 is just like any other day. But what’s really special about Valentine’s day is that this is the chance, the opportunity, to remind your loved ones that they are loved, that they are cared for, that they are kept your hearts 365 or 366 days a year. This is the chance to make up for all your wrongdoings and shortcomings. This is an opportunity to truly, madly, deeply tell your loved ones how you feel about them. Of course, one could do just that any other day but Feb 14 is a big day where you could kind of tell the whole world ‘officially’ of the love you share with others.

I’m not an expert when it comes to love but I could tell you much when it comes to sharing the love and caring for other people. I’m not much of a city girl but I’ve come to love the urban life during my university schooling. I admit I’m a country girl – far away from the huzzle-buzzle of the city life, the smoke-belching jeepneys, the highway traffic, the irritating hammering and grinding from nearby construction sites. I’ve come to love the city because I realized that although my hometown Sagada is far from economic progress and development than that of Baguio City, I saw that Sagada had no problems such as peddlers, beggars and stow-away children with their ragged and tattered clothes running about. My hometown had not much problems as drugs, murders, homicides, car crashes and other gruesome events that I’ve witnessed in the city. It was the tranquility of my hometown which led me to a realization that I could do more in the city than that of my hometown. For every Valentine’s day for my five long years in the city, I’ve come to spend some time not with a boyfriend (as I didn’t even have one for that matter J) but with strangers I meet on my way home or any where I go. I still remember that I’ve spent my first Valentine’s Day in the city by walking around the city with friends (also single) and dropping coins in the palms of arm-stretched beggars along overpasses and along Session Road.

I could never forget February 14, 2006 because I’ve accomplished something that was to me, a great thing. This was my first Valentine’s Day during my college life. I’m never one to just give money away since my family is having financial difficulties as any other Filipino family in the country and I’ve come to experience how hard it is to earn money on my own. But right when I looked at the state of one of the beggars along the Magsaysay overpass, a woman with ragged and greasy clothes and mouth watering upon seeing my half-eaten Dunkin’ Donut Strawberry-filled Bavarian donut, I felt something tug at my heart. I did not eat the whole day since it was our practicum in Anatomy and Physiology and I’m never one to eat when I’m nervous or else I’d keep visiting the comfort room. So my stomach was wrenching in hunger but I stopped in front of her, smiled, and handed the donut over to the poor woman. She eagerly took that half-eaten donut, hung her head and cried. That day, I’ve promised myself I’d be more gracious and giving for there are much more unfortunate people than I am. I’ve done that through dropping every spare change I could to beggars I meet along the way. From that day on, I never complained I have not enough allowance and never wasted even a rotting piece of tomato. I just had to chop off the rotting portion and make do with the good one. That’s love.

February 14, 2007 was also memorable to me. With our nursing concepts and theories easier and understandable as we go through every lesson, I’ve come to realize from one point in our lesson that it’s good for the body to also donate blood. That’s what I did when we had the opportunity to volunteer for a blood donation at the Red Cross. For the first time in my life, I’ve been punctured with a large-bore needle since I’ve never been hooked to dextroses and the like in my childhood and during my secondary schooling. I wanted to back out the moment one of the medical technologists held up a 2-inch needle approximately 2mm in diameter. I was profusely sweating by the time he came at me. But his calm and soothing voice misled my fear into something much more satisfying – the realization that I was helping someone else out there who needed a blood transfusion. Type O+ may be the most abundant blood type among people and also may be the universal donor but you may never know. Someone out there needs that 500ml of blood. That may just be 500ml of my 5.6 liters of blood but that feeling of relief, satisfaction, happiness and accomplishment never went away. That’s love.

The next Valentine’s Day, it was year 2008, my groupmates and I (K4) with our clinical instructor were in Cadtay, Kapangan for our regular duty for community work. It may be a hassle for some of my group mates since they had set appointments for their Valentine’s Day dates but I was happy to have spent that special day with the people of Cadtay, Kapangan. For that day, we’ve set up something that the community people would enjoy. We chucked in some of our allowance for the game prizes and for the preparation of our cause. We arranged for a dance-for-all at night, invited some of the neighboring barangays, and had fun that day. At least for a day during that week, the people had rested their weary bodies and limp limbs from going to the farm or fields which you’d not believe how far it is from their houses. My gosh! Just remembering those times we’ve visited the residents in their homes and the fields make my legs cramp, shake and ache so much. But at least just for that day, we’ve been there to help them relax and experience something they enjoy with us, strangers but to them a new-found family. That’s love.

February 14, 2009 was a really special day for me. My friends and I, single or otherwise had fun during our group date. That was the very first date I’ve had again in about 5 years – with friends whom I’ve come to love so much. We went bar hopping, drinking, singing, and even dancing. I’ve not had so much fun like this for a long time since we graduated from high school. A mother of one of my friends even gave each of us Goldilocks polvoron packages. Yum, yum, yum! My friend and her mom is really, really thoughtful and sweet. Taking time to spend a special day with the people you care about, that’s love.

February 14 was one of the special days during the year 2010 which I always could recall. That was the day I first worked as a freelance writer online. All thanks to my boss, Seif, I had a part-time job submitting news articles in his own website. I got paid 50 dollars that same week. I’ve worked, got paid and now I had something to spend for the upcoming Panagbenga street dancing and float parade with my friends. That was one Valentine’s Day where I accomplished something not for anyone else but for myself. That’s love.

It was then February 14, 2011. I’ve started working on my high school alma mater’s weblog page as a gesture of gratitude for all the things I’ve learned from the teachers and students, and for taking great good care of the students’ priorities and education. Sagada National High School had been to me a home I’d always treasure and love. My experience during my four years of stay in this school inspired me to become even more successful in college. All the hardships the school had gone through while I was in its midst, all the challenges we’ve had as students, all the laughter and tears – all these things inspired me much and made me into who I am today. I’ve created the website as a tribute and thank you to the school for all its accomplishments and developments. That’s love.

It’s now the year of our Lord 2012 and again February 14. It’s time to share some love once again so here I am sharing all of you my love and greetings through this manuscript. I’ve shared my experiences and all the things I’ve thought was trivial but then to the persons I’ve helped and been with those past Valentine’s Days accordingly had been great no matter how trivial they had been. I’ve never even thought much about all those small things I did until a stranger approached me as I was giving my left-over KFC chicken drumstick to one of the street children who was tossing and holding her stomach in pain. He gave me a pat on the back and told me that what I did to the child was award-winning if ever he’d had the chance to present me with a plaque. He further told me that there was one less hungry child in the world. That phrase kept playing like a broken record in my mind – one less hungry child in the world. I thought to myself that what I’ve done was nothing at all. I couldn’t even help the others. I hadn’t realized much what Mr. Stranger meant until I got home, sat down, and sighed as the phrase kept playing in my mind. That was when it hit me. I did a great thing. With that one piece of chicken from KFC Session, I’ve fed one of the billions of hungry and homeless children in the world. I cried that night. That’s love.

And with me sharing all of you a piece of my life where all the people of the Philippines are protagonists, that’s how I show my love to you all. I hope that with this, you’d also realize that no matter how trivial, no matter how small, no matter how unimportant things are to you, to some people those things you deem unimportant and trivial are great big things to have and share. So, man up! Share some love this Valentine’s Day. Send someone a post card or a greeting card or anything you’d think of to show some love. Remember that it’s always the thought that counts, and not the amount or value of the things you give.

But wait, there’s more… The biggest realization I had as I was writing this manuscript was that for all those years I’ve spent on every Valentine’s Day, I never had someone I’m supposed to call my ‘The One’ to spend it with. Haaaaaayyyzzzzzzzz! Might as well spend it next Valentine’s Day watching movies of Jet Li. He might be the one. :D Hehehe….

Valentine’s Day: How It All Began

noreply@blogger.com (Lexa Elaine Capuyan) — Mon, 13 Feb 2012 16:40:00 +0800

Through the years, this day of Valentine has seen a lot. From ancient martyrs to modern-day romantics, Valentine's Day has always been an eventful day for most. As we passionately give gifts, or wait for them, let us delve a little deeper and find out the history behind this day of love.

Flowers, chocolates, heart-shaped outlines, greeting cards, doves, and the figure of the winged Cupid – this is just part of a bigger picture. We do know that February has long been celebrated as a month of romance, and that St. Valentine's Day, as we know it today, contains vestiges of both Western and Eastern traditions. Families dining out, friends roaming streets, couples holding hands, lovers locked in a kiss, people blind-dating, strangers getting together, children playing and laughing about – loving, caring, hoping.

But behind these romantic scenes are images of a gruesome past – lots of blood, so red, so bloody red. Valentine’s Day is said to be commemorated all in the name of atleast three different martyred saints named Valentine – Valentine of Rome, Valentine of Terni and the Catholic Encyclopedia also speaks of a third saint named Valentine of Alexandria who was mentioned in early martyrologies under date of February 14. There has always been a big confusion as to who exactly was St. Valentine. History talks about three people, the Roman saint Valentine who was a bishop, Valentine of Terni and Valentine of Alexandria who is better known as Valentinus, who were martyred on the very day (i.e., 14th February) for committing the sin of 'spreading love'.

All three have died in the name of love. Valentine of Rome was a priest who defied Emperor Claudius II and continued to perform marriages in secret. Claudius decided that single men made better soldiers than those with wives and families, he outlawed marriage for young men. Valentine of Rome was thrown in prison and later on put to death when his actions were discovered. During his stay in jail, the young people of Rome, who threw flowers and notes through his prison window, visited him. These people wanted him to know that they, too, believed in love. One of them was the daughter of the prison guard. Her father allowed her to visit Valentine of Rome in his cell and they sat and talked for hours. She kept his spirits up and agreed that Valentine had done the right thing by ignoring Emperor Claudius and pushing through with the secret marriages. On the day of his death, Valentine left her a note signed, ‘Love from your Valentine’.

A similar story revolves around Valentine of Terni. Noted evangelist, miracle worker and healer, he was much loved by his flock. It is said that he was devoted to the cause of spreading the message of love and forgiveness among people and is known to have mystical powers. He could heal wounds and cure incurable diseases miraculously. He was considered the messenger of God. However, at that time Christianity was not the accepted religion and Christians were prosecuted. Hence, this saintly man was beheaded for his faith and beliefs. He was imprisoned, tortured, and beheaded by order of the prefect Placid Furius during the persecution of Aurelius. He was murdered in secret and at night to avoid riots and revenge by the people of Terni.

Valentine of Alexandria on the other hand, believed in spiritual love. He said that there are three kinds of people, spiritual, psychical and material, and those who were of the first kind (i.e., spiritual) were blessed with the knowledge (or gnosis). Therefore, spirituality can alone lead a man to his salvation. He also preached the importance of marriage, however, it clashed with the growing asceticism of Christian thought. There have been churches dedicated to Valentine of Alexandria and his disciples spread his message of love to date.

While some believed that Valentine’s Day is celebrated in the middle of February to commemorate Saint Valentine’s death, others claim that the Christian church may have decided to place St. Valentine's feast day in the middle of February in an effort to "Christianize" the pagan celebration of Lupercalia. Celebrated at the ides of February, or February 15, Lupercalia was a fertility festival dedicated to Faunus, the Roman god of agriculture, as well as to the Roman founders Romulus and Remus.

To begin the festival, members of the Luperci, an order of Roman priests, would gather at a sacred cave where the infants Romulus and Remus, the founders of Rome, were believed to have been cared for by a she-wolf or lupa. The priests would sacrifice a goat, for fertility, and a dog, for purification. They would then strip the goat's hide into strips, dip them into the sacrificial blood and take to the streets, gently slapping both women and crop fields with the goat hide. Far from being fearful, Roman women welcomed the touch of the hides because it was believed to make them more fertile in the coming year. Later in the day, according to legend, all the young women in the city would place their names in a big urn. The city's bachelors would each choose a name and become paired for the year with his chosen woman. These matches often ended in marriage.

While sending cards, flowers, chocolates, and other gifts is traditional in the Philippines and other countries around the world, Valentine’s Day has various local customs. We all have heard the phrase ‘wearing your heart on your sleeve’, but the phrase has actually come from Middle ages, when according to a popular tradition, young men and women would draw chits from a bowl, to know the names of their valentines and then, would wear that name on their sleeve for the entire week.

Hundreds of years ago in England, many children dressed up as adults on Valentine's Day. They went singing from home to home. One verse they sang was:

Good morning to you, valentine;

Curl your locks as I do mine ---

Two before and three behind.

Good morning to you, valentine

In Wales wooden love spoons were carved and given as gifts on February 14th. Hearts, keys and keyholes were favourite decorations on the spoons. The decoration meant, "You unlock my heart!"

In some countries, a young woman may receive a gift of clothing from a young man. If she keeps the gift, it means she will marry him.

Some people used to believe that if a woman saw a robin flying overhead on Valentine's Day, it meant she would marry a sailor. If she saw a sparrow, she would marry a poor man and be very happy. If she saw a goldfinch, she would marry a millionaire.

Think of five or six names of boys or girls you might marry, As you twist the stem of an apple, recite the names until the stem comes off. You will marry the person whose name you were saying when the stem fell off.

A day for the celebration of love is what Valentine is. In the hustle-bustle, we must not forget this small, yet, important fact. A relationship survives on the pillars of love and trust. We celebrate this day to remind ourselves how much we need the people we love and what role they play in our lives. Therefore, let us celebrate this day for those who stood by us through thick and thin, for those who willingly accept us for what we are and for those, who have faith in us.

This entire aspect of defiance for love of which the three Valentines showed connects the history of the modern Valentine’s day to bravery or "valor". The color red is associated to the bloodshed which occurred all in the name of love. Now, every year on this day, people remember. But most importantly, they think about love and friendship. And when they think of Emperor Claudius, Order of Prefect Placid Furius, and all those who persecuted the three saints, people remember how these persecutors tried to stand in the way of love, and the people laugh – because they know that love can't be beaten!

Resources:

http://www.history.com/topics/valentines-day

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Valentine's_Day

http://www.holidayinsights.com/valentine/

Sail on, Darwin!

noreply@blogger.com (Lexa Elaine Capuyan) — Mon, 19 Dec 2011 00:01:00 +0800

This day’s been hell of a lot tiring and forlorn. Until now, it feels like I’ve just woken up from a nightmare and how I really wish it was just that – a nightmare.

Hands clammy, knees quivering, my thumping heart threatening to heave itself out of my fat-lined ribcage, my vellus hair standing on end, my skin covered of goose bumps, electricity ostensibly whizzing up my spine -- I just couldn’t believe what was in front of me yet my own eyes weren’t deceived of what lay before me. Or rather who lies before me. And there he was -- so still, so cold, so… dead.

Just this morning, I’ve packed my bags and climbed up the bus bound for Baguio as I was supposed to process my application papers and receive my transcript of records from school among other things. I’ve not yet gotten off the bus when I received a text message from my best friend Rose that they’re going to visit our batch mate and friend, Darwin, and were asking me if I would come. My heart started to beat like I’ve just been running in the marathon and just one word kept popping out of the text message Rose sent me – ‘visit’. I don’t know why but I really had a sick feeling about that word. My curiosity got the better of me and I pumped up the courage to ask ‘what of Darwin?’ My heart stopped beating when I got a reply from Rose, “Dead.”, was all she said. My mind went blank. The shock that one blasted word brought me was enough to get my faculties failing to respond. If it hadn’t been for my seatmate, I still would have been staring at the phone, sitting still as if I’d turned to stone. He told me that for a moment there, it seemed as if I wasn’t within the realm of reality. I just turned toward him and managed a hint of a smile. I tried to say something but then my mouth rebelled against me. With that, I was silent for the rest of the trip. A day supposed to be full of splendor and excitement turned to gloom and left quite forlorn of hope. Man, that was really a mood killer. I kept convincing myself that Darwin couldn’t be dead. I just saw him alive and well two weeks ago. The rational and more logical part of my adipose-laden brain argued that Rose, a resolute and ingenuous person, wouldn’t be making this thing up. It’s not in her bones to try and make fun of death amongst friends. Thus, I chose to believe the logic in that statement she just sent me.

As soon as I got down the bus on my drop-off point, I dropped my bags at home and headed to Abanao, dazed. My friends were waiting there – Rose and Lester. They were waiting for the cavalry so as to go and see Darwin during his wake. It’s really sad as we were planning to have a batch reunion like last year and celebrate his birthday (we didn’t know it was his birthday last year) or at least go out again as we did the past year (Full Story Here). We were just days too late. Or yet, Darwin was just days too early or perhaps just too in a hurry that he’d stumbled along the way.

It really is so unfair that someone kind and young has to go ahead and be with our Creator as Darwin has. I remember when I heard the news I simply could not believe it. Darwin was too young but as it slowly occurred to me I have realized that Darwin indeed lived his life wonderfully. Darwin was well-loved and he had done so many things on earth and I’m sure he’ll do much more in heaven.

To tell the truth, I barely knew Darwin. As I was looking down at his handsome face in his immaculately white casket, I’ve been trying to put some words together in my mind to tell him. I ended up praying for his soul and his family. There’s that guilty feeling of not really knowing who Darwin really is and I call him my friend. I know a lot of things about Darwin but they were trivial. I only knew what he told us when he introduced himself as a newcomer at Sagada National High School – that his name was Darwin Chalacan and is from Sadanga. I came to know a few things about him then, such as things like he was older than most of us in the classroom, that he knew how to paint, knew how to carve, and he also knew how to play the guitar well. He was such a talented young man. As I go through those times in high school, I remember well that Darwin was the silent type. He never was boldly chastised by any of our teachers and he was well-behaved in the classroom. He was a very good student – an average-learner but so much of a hard-worker. He rallied his way through the economic and personal barriers hindering him from getting educated. He learned well and graduated beside his 53 batch mates. Well-learned and hard-working, that’s what got him in the automotive buy-and-sell business of which he aimed, as all Filipinos do, to uplift the economic status of his parents and family—and that, he did too well. But there was another side to Darwin that I’ve got to know as time passed by. Darwin may be the silent kind of student in the classroom but when you’ve got the chance to bridge a friendly relationship with him, you’ll realize that he’s a comical friend – a humorous, chatty, jovial, and determined person. He has this kind of attitude which could lighten up someone’s mood or cast bright lights upon the room with his jokes (though corny at times :D) and laughter and even with his incessantly smiling face. That handsome smile he managed to show never waned even for a second.

It was just a year before today when the SagadaNHS Batch 2005 had a small get-together and got to catch up on each other’s lives. I remember seeing, aside from the others’ accomplishments, another side of Darwin. That day, I saw a Darwin Chalacan who was very much successful and contented with what he’d achieved. Man, he was an accomplished young man! The automotive business is a very tedious yet rewarding job and Darwin had a lot of clients calling him here and there (he has two cell phones just for that :D). That same day last year, December 19, he actually had to deliver one of those half-a-million-peso cars he just sold to a client before he was able to meet with us. Lester and Wilfredo were witnesses to that since they were with him. We’ve been calling him ‘Big Shot’, ever since and yet he humbly turned the moniker down. He was that humble that he never had to brag about his job and how much he was earning. You’d just have to be surprised from time to time with what he has already accomplished such as the time when we were planning to ride a taxi and he just told us to wait and took off. That time, it was our second night out – December 20. I got confused there for a second and asked myself, ‘Wait for what? Where did he go?’ Lester and Wilfredo knew what he was up to. He brought along his own Pajero for the occasion. He was kind enough to drive us all around the city to where we wanted to go. It was Christmas after all. There were parties here and there. The clock was about to strike 12 Midnight and Darwin was also kind enough to drive each one of us home (from Dagsian to P. Burgos to Km5 and KM6 La Trinidad) after dropping off Kimberly at the Victory Liner terminal at Old Forestry Road, Marcoville since the terminal at Gov. Pack Road was fully packed with passengers. We waited for her to be able to secure a ticket before we took off. I love my friends. They’re so thoughtful and caring. I knew then that this was the Darwin I knew before. The Darwin who worked hard to finance his education in far-off Sagada – away from his beloved hometown Sadanga, away from his beloved parents and siblings, away from a world that he knew too well.

Despite Darwin’s achievement and job, I never saw him differently. I still saw him as the Darwin Chalacan picking his nose and incessantly brushing mucus off his runny nose. I loved that kind of Darwin until now – simple, humble, kind, hard-working, loving and caring. Despite his accomplishment, he never boasted of it. Rather, he helped his siblings and parents and I just knew. I don’t know how but maybe someday I’d know the answer. I just had that feeling that he never wasted his earnings for silly things. His uncle confirmed that feeling during his wake – that he worked hard to help his family rise up from their current economic status. He gave everything he had and more to make his family all as happy as possible, and now it is finally his turn. His sacrifices did not go unnoticed. His love is forever appreciated and valued more than he may ever know. I can only hope his reward is eternal happiness in Heaven with all those he cared so much for. He wanted to make everyone happy. And now, Heaven will be a happier place with the sound of his laughter.

Darwin’s death was sudden. His death may have left a big red gash in our hearts that no one could ever heal but the love and care he shared with us all will leave a memory no one could ever steal. I will forever be grateful to have had the chance to have known a man named Darwin Chalacan. Darwin will forever be missed but I know in the right time, I will meet Darwin again. We will all meet Darwin again and he’ll make us laugh in tears again.

Darwin, we pray for you and your family. To us, your friends, you will always be with us in mind, heart and spirit. We know that now you are with the Father in His heavenly kingdom because the Darwin Chalacan I know of deserves to be with the Lord. Thank you so much for touching my life and the lives of others. Thank you for sharing us your knowledge, your laughter, your love and care, your expertise in cars, and for being a very good friend. Thank you for all your kindness and sweet words. Thank you for your smiles and your hugs. Thank you for the funny stories and all the wonderful deeds you’ve done. Thank you for always thinking of everyone else long before you ever thought of yourself. Thank you for making our lives far more special than they ever could have been without you.

Sail on, Darwin! You may be gone in this world forever but your memories will forevermore linger... :D

The highs and lows of a self-invited guest

noreply@blogger.com (Lexa Elaine Capuyan) — Fri, 4 Nov 2011 22:15:00 +0800

One of the things I never fail to do when I get home for the summer or during semestral breaks and other holidays is visit my high school alma mater, Sagada National High School. In my five years of schooling in the city, I couldn’t even remember one time that I never stopped by my beloved school. I don’t really know why. I guess, it gives me a sense of pride and fulfillment every time I visit.

Yes, I think that’s it. Seeing how the fledgling school struggles to uphold its beliefs and its mission awes me to the point of bringing me way back when I was in its midst, embraced by the borrowed Bayanihan building from the nearby Sagada Central School, its own makeshift building, and the infamous ‘kababan’. Reminiscing gives me that sense of fulfillment that yes, we may be squatters to the eyes of our neighbors, poor and having a chicken roost for a classroom to the eyes of the community, but we students have never felt that we were lacking of anything. To us, it was enough that we had four walls and a roof to shade our weary minds from the striking heat of the sun. It was enough that we had the best teachers to help us learn. It was enough that we had the will to keep studying, with the help of our ever-energetic teachers and our parents to guide us along.

Seeing my alma mater’s struggle for more to enable its commitment to a better and quality education made me shed unashamed tears more often than not upon stepping on its welcoming pedestal. To this day, with the greatest efforts of parents and the local government units and non-government organizations near and far, my alma mater stands proud with its newly-furnished building, below the neighboring elementary school, which was where the ‘kababan’ stood before. The transformation was like that in a fairy tale -– from a pumpkin to a very beautiful and intricately designed coach. I feel really proud -– of our teachers, of our alumni, of our own dreams, and most especially of our parents and of everyone who helped make a difference. Now, the younger generation could enjoy the fruits of their labor. They could be comfortable and secure while they hold on to quality education, thanks to our mind-empowering and skillful teachers.

Thank you –- a never-waning word when I see what I’ve become today. I may have learned a lot of things during my schooling at Sagada National High but I never realized how important my education was then until I went into college, and after I graduated from the university as well. I am so proud to shout to the whole wide world as well as the world wide web that I am a product of Sagada National High School, that I’m from a school where quality education counts, and of which I learned a lot from. Yes, a never waning gratitude indeed. Even the world wide web less this page couldn’t take all my reasons for thanking Sagada NHS.

Thank you could not even measure how I feel for the many times Sagada NHS and faculty and students welcomed me to their very arms. Not only had it cuddled me close, I had the privilege of attending every occasion they celebrate -– from Tuesday programs, to intramurals, to Senior’s days, to foundation days, to graduation days. Yes, that’s exactly what I am -– a self-invited guest.

I’ve had the best experiences here –- the happiest, saddest, most embarrassing moments. Thanks to Sir Cal and the faculty members, the students as well for allowing myself to visit and show my way around the school now and again.

It was an honor for me to be chosen as a guest speaker for the Senior’s day last March. I never realized I could make it since I left my speech in La Trinidad and I just made another presentation the night before the big day (full story here). I also had the privilege of taking pictures during the foundation day, witnessing Tuesday programs, and assisting Sir Cal in filing admission slips and helping organize the school’s site (Hehe. From a self-invited guest to a self-proclaimed administrative aide.). I’ve also shared what I knew about editorial writing to the staff of the Hillside Echoes. I also had the chance to be one of the judges for the cheerleading competition during the recently-concluded Sagada NHS intramural. Tell me, dear readers if that wasn’t fulfilling. Tell me if that wasn’t gratifying. Tell me if that wasn’t rewarding. Because to me, it was all those.

The embarrassment and the occasional snide remarks of some unidentifiable judgmental 'objects' are all worth the experiences and moments I’ve shared with the faculty and students.

I really love to help. But despite my good intentions, there are some people out there who do not approve. Perhaps it’s my fault. Perhaps I make myself available too much. Perhaps I visit my school more often than I have to. Perhaps I’m just too blind to notice that maybe others do not need my help. Perhaps too blind to notice that I am not useful enough. Or perhaps just too insensitive to even care.

Either way, I thank the Lord for blessing me with friends and people who've touched my life. I thank God for guiding me as I aim to develop mentally, physically, spiritually, emotionally, socially, and psychologically -– as I aim to find myself, find a meaning to life and strive to become whole.

More than words

noreply@blogger.com (Lexa Elaine Capuyan) — Thu, 20 Oct 2011 14:23:00 +0800

My stay at Sagada NHS was a bit, let's say, fortifying. This is where my adventures really started. This is where I learned how to grow into who I am today.

GOD. This is where I began how to really, really be 'intimate' with God. I've been praying a lot ever since my Dad died. I've come to know Him even more and thus, became more God-fearing and faithful not only to His name but to everyone around me. I came to know the real meaning and value of faith and gratitude. This is where I have come in absolute contact with God and develop my person in spiritual growth.

FRIENDS. Well most of all, this is where I met some of my best friends these days. They make me smile even when smiling isn't supposed to be what I'm doing. They stayed beside me even when I was the monster in their dreams. They made me whole. Don't you think that fortifying? I love them. You know who you are. Mwah.

TEACHERS. We've had teachers come and go but nevertheless they've still been in my heart for having taught us well. I definitely wouldn't forget Sir Sixto Daluyen for our table tennis tournaments (although he usually purposely loses) and our 'skyflakes' moments... that was the funniest moment ever... also for being so approachable even though he is feared by some... for teaching us English grammar although it's really ironic the way he teaches it... I remember those times when he makes mistakes and we attempt to correct him, and he never fails to say, 'that is what i mean'...; Sir Joseph Caligtan for being a cool teacher and he never loses his head for just anything without confrontation, which has also made him a cool teacher in-charge. I admire him so much for his intelligence not only in math and physics but in TLE as well; Mam Irene Bakisan for being patient and approachable... for sharing with us everything we needed to know... for helping us be better campus journalists, for teaching me the value of journalistic endeavors (and I learned it the hard way); Mam Lucinda Baniaga for providing us the use of the library whenever we need books... also for teaching us what it means to really laugh and have fun (although I really wouldn't tell her that since while she taught us to laugh and have fun, we also made her cry because of it), she also has a sing-song voice which most of the time, makes her lectures a bit more interesting... :), for being an easy target for pranks (the nerve of some students) and making us laugh (holding a chair up high above her head and running around the classroom to catch a nitwit student was definitely a classic); Sir Innocencio Estangki who's been a mentor to me and my classmates on discipline and a fun and energetic MAPEH and Social Studies teacher; Mam Angeline Sumedca with her malutong na malutong na 'baddarong! (or was it spelled this way: bad the wrong?)' or else a similarly malutong na malutong na 'Domacyon!' that maybe even the aliens in outerspace would have curled and blasted off to another galaxy out of fear; Mam Cherr Umaming with a trail of logarithms following her out the door; Mam Cheryl Tauli for her small stature but terribly strict in class when it comes to making her students learn and not just pass in her Biology class; Mam Rosalia Padayao and her more-than-asked characterization and adlibs on the Noli Me Tangere; Sir Gary Joven Makellay (may he rest in peace) for being one of the teachers who never gets mad, just teaches what is right and what is wrong either in sports or in livelihood education; Mam Felicidad Sibayan for her rich vocabulary in Filipino; Mam Dominga Tocong (may she rest in peace) for her scientific observations and theories that could drive me up the wall and make some of my classmates run for their lives; Mam Sarah Baldo for her rich vocabulary on the English language and for teaching us how to value our education; Sir Delfin Lasdacan for teaching us that do is do, re is re, mi is mi and so on and for teaching us that music is definitely good for the heart and mind (except for me who definitely would just keep my mouth shut since I know my music isn't good for the ears). OF course, all the rest never fail to astonish me with their own skills and talents... kasi yan ang 'tatak SagadaNHS'... So proud to have them touch my life... (=^_^=)

SQUATTING. You may not believe it but having no classrooms and not enough facilities to help with your schooling has definitely been one of the treasured moments I've had in this school. I've felt how it is to hear snide remarks from other people about the makeshift building, how to stay focused on the lessons with the hot sun burning down our backs since the classrooms have no ceilings, how to try to grasp the concepts our teachers were saying since we don't have enough facilities (imagine learning about how a computer works without even knowing what a computer looks like), how to make the most of what you have, live with what you have.

And these, ladies and gentlemen made me who I am today--strong, standing tall, fortified, with experiences I never would have experienced in college... --lexaelaine--

Our own Tudor mansion: love at first sight

noreply@blogger.com (Lexa Elaine Capuyan) — Sat, 15 Oct 2011 21:11:00 +0800

Over the past five years, we’ve changed residence thrice. We had to move out from our former home since it became too far for my mother’s aging legs and my brother’s occasional whining of hiring transportation.

Waiting for a ride after class is almost next to impossible since the last trip for Besao jeepneys pass through Sagada by 4PM. The bus from Baguio, the bus that arrives prior to the last trip passes through the town by 5PM. The last trip passes at 7PM. My mom is an elementary school teacher and gets off work at 5PM and my brother was a grade 4 student in the same school. It’s unlikely that they would catch the bus. Also, it tires and pains my brother and mom to be waiting for the 7PM trip. Walking was the only option and walking home would take almost 45 minutes to an hour, with all their school bags on one hand, and on the other, bags of vegetables and fruits and food for dinner, and for breakfast and lunch the next day. The last resort we had to do was pack up and move to the town’s center, or at least a place nearer to the school my mom works and my brother attends.

We first stayed at my Auntie Jean’s house of which was vacant for years now until we occupied it. The place was great and accessible enough but then we had a water problem. Water was scarce. Not a drop of water from the faucet even in the early morning and late evening. With my mom being a teacher and having lots of work to do for the next day’s lessons, fetching water was like a luxury she couldn’t afford. It was too tedious and waiting for a drop of water to none was keeping my mom and brother up till the wee hours of the morning, which detrimentally affects my mom’s effectivity to work and my brother’s performance in school. And so, once again, we packed up and moved out to a place even nearer to school (5 minutes walk). Here we stayed for more than two years, a lot longer than when we were at our aunt’s house. We had no problems there whatsoever. Water was abundant, thanks to Uncle Edmund and Uncle Chad. Then came a time when we had to move once more. So for the third time, we packed up and moved to another house, which was near the previous house we leased but 2 minutes farther to school than the distance from the previous house.

Upon stepping on the portals of our new rented house, the very first word that came to my mind was ‘Tudor’. I’ve always wanted to think that we lived in a Tudor mansion since then. I’ve always loved the vertical and diagonal blackened timbers, thatched roofs, overhanging first floors called galleries, pillared porches, dormer windows and leaded windows with small window panes, high and spiraled chimneys. A typical Tudor house displays that some of the lower stories are built in stone, and arches are smaller and flattened as opposed to the pointed Gothic arches.

But no. It’s not what it’s supposed to be. It isn’t really what you imagine as one of those ancient Tudor mansions. Living in an actual Tudor mansion is a luxury we could not afford. I actually just coined the name itself due to the two adjacent main doors opening to the house’s warm and welcoming interior. When I first set foot in our new home, I was curious of what would be behind those doors. For a full minute, I stood outside both doors, contemplating, before I inserted the key into the lock. A gush of warmth washed through my trembling and excited self as I stepped inside, right into the dining room. The other door opens to the receiving area (sala). A plank of wood only separates the two doors and a curtain separates the dining and receiving area. It was something I never expected. I know not what to think. But, I loved the house just as I loved Tudor houses I see in the movies and pictures. It was cute. The stairs seemed rickety upon setting my plump and hefty foot on the first step. It was also more of a one-way staircase when I’m the one walking up or down the stairs. The bedrooms were cute as well – enough for only a bed and a night table. The kitchen was wide enough for a dance hall, so with the receiving area. The bathroom was big enough to accommodate my corpulent excuse for a body. And the toilet was more of a pour-flush raised latrine.

A lot of speculations and issues are raised regarding us moving house but no matter how many times we move out or no matter where we go, it is still HOME in the comfort and love of my mom and siblings. That’s what matters most, be it a Tudor mansion or a two-door country house, or a doorless four-walled containment.

Straight from the heart

noreply@blogger.com (Lexa Elaine Capuyan) — Fri, 2 Sep 2011 08:56:00 +0800

One of the things I hate most is being compared to other people. I am not 'them'. But rather than contemplating on how to go about that and my feelings, I've stood my ground. I did not get hurt and I will never get hurt. Rather, I will take this as a challenge --to do my best, to strive hard as a God-fearing creature, to live the way I am supposed to live, and to make my lineage proud of one Lexa Elaine Daoas Capuyan. I've lived my life the way I like it without hurting other people. I don't care how different I am from others. All that matters is that I am true to myself and the people I love, the people I'm dealing with every minute of everyday... And that's that. No holds barred.

Way too proud and boastful, am I? Well, I'll let you be the judge of that...

Close call

noreply@blogger.com (Lexa Elaine Capuyan) — Tue, 23 Aug 2011 20:36:00 +0800

Had quite a scare today. It was a little around 4PM today and I was busily updating our website as Ma'am Cherr was counseling a student on the benefits of finishing the school year and letting him weigh his own choices, while Mam Lucinda was clearing her table of quizz papers and stuff.

The other teachers barely left to go and teach their next classes when suddenly, loud popping sounds caused Mam Luz, Mam Cherr and the student to jump from their seats as sparks flew around the entrance to the faculty room. I was still sitting in front of the laptop (Thanks, KOICA!), my fingers still tapping the keyboard trying to save what I did. The lights went blinking on and off just like a Christmas light. It was like the fourth of July inside the Faculty Room.

After sitting still for a moment from shock, I heard Mam Cherr shouting for Sir Joe but then Sir Joe was way far from the room to hear us. She nudged the student she was counseling to switch off the main switches but to no avail. There were still sparks coming from above the door. Then we heard Sir Elvis outside saying that the wire supplying the room's electrical energy caught fire. Accordingly, he was about to enter the faculty room when the sparks started going off at every direction. Just as suddenly as the sparks and the popping sound had started, they also stopped.

I stuck my head outside the door wary of the fire and sparks above my head. I could see the worry and the fear in Sir Elvis' eyes as he told me that the fire was still burning. I rushed back in and prepared to leave the faculty room quickly before the fire burns in. Without even thinking of turning the laptop I was using off or even plugging it out of its socket, I rushed out.

Mam Cherr and Mam Lucinda were right behind me trying to get me to hurry. We ran outside as far as we could get from the sparks. Students from the computer laboratory just below the faculty filed out and calmly made their way to the quadrangle as well.

Sir Caligtan was then rushing toward the faculty room, all the while telling some of the boys to call the MOPRECO technicians. One of them ran as fast as he could and was back in less than 10 minutes bearing good news that the technicians were on their way. Sir Caligtan's initial inspection revealed that the main line short circuited, thus the cause of the sparks and popping sound.

The MOPRECO techs came and confirmed Sir Cal's inspection. The situation has somehow calmed down and things were going back to normal.The students' resumed their classes but with the lights off. For the meantime, the situation was solved.

Whew! At those few moments we were in the faculty room, I thought I would never see the light of day. Questions kept rushing up my head. What if the fire spread? What if we hadn't kept our cool? What if we didn't have the mind to pull down the lever of the mainswitch? What if we all panicked? What if the fire got bigger? What if...? Never ending questions flustered my mind. We never knew what would have happened if by then the fire just had kindled itself and spread. I shudder in fear to even think of what would have happened.

At the end of all these chaos and after a breath of fresh air and relief, we just laughed and joked about at the moments of stupidity and ignorance we committed in such a limited time -- what with me sitting still and not doing anything, Mam Cherr shouting for Sir Joe even though she knew Sir was far enough not to hear her, Sir Elvis hooked and frozen by the steps outside, and Mam Luz retrieving her paycheck from her desk drawer that she kept seconds before the scary experience.

Despite all the chaos and breaths of relief, we still thank the Lord that we were all safe and no one was hurt. My gosh! That was really a close call.

Panauhing-pandangal: The Last Attempt

noreply@blogger.com (Lexa Elaine Capuyan) — Wed, 20 Jul 2011 15:11:00 +0800

Naaalala niyo pa ba yung sinulat kong tungkol dun sa pagkaka-offer sa akin na maging isang panauhing pandangal? Marahil ay hindi. Inofferan ako ng alma mater hiskul ko na mag-guest speaker para sa Senior's day. Di na ako magpapatumpik-tumpik pa. Ang end nun, tinanggap ko yung offer. Mangyari lamang ay basahin ninyo ang buong paglalahad dito.

Wari ko ay nagtatanong kayo kung bakit eto na naman tayo sa paksang iyon. Sapagkat wala lang akong magawa at gusto ko lang naman ipagpatuloy ang kwentong iyon na kunwari ay may nag-aabang sa susunod nitong kabanata. Alam ko. Walang nag-aabang. Kunwari nga lang, di ba?

So ayun na nga. Tinanggap ko yun three weeks before nung affair. Sa di inaasahang pagkakataon, kelangan kong magtungo ng Baguio para ayusin ang ilang importanteng dokumento (Wow! Wala lang. Basta wow.).

Akala ko makakabalik ako agad. Isang linggo nalang bago yung event. Hala! Wala pa pala akong nagagawang speech. May speech talaga yon. Akala ko wala. Naghabol ako sa mga dokumentong di pa naaayos hanggang ngayong oras na sinusulat ko ito. Hay, anu ba yan! Kakaasar.

Isinantabi ko muna yung pagproseso ng mga yun. Gumawa ako ng bonggang-bonggang speech nang gabing iyon. Gumamit pa talaga ako ng Powerpoint. Andun na lahat ng datos na kakailanganin ko. Andun na lahat ng mga posibleng kursong kukunin ng mga bata sa kolehiyo.

Dalawang araw nalang. Reding-ready na ako para sa speech. Tinuloy ko nanaman magpasign at maghabol ng mga maiilap na instructors at staff nurses para dun sa PRC templates ko. Hala. Bukas na yung event. Madami pa aku ipapasign. Ay, alam ko na. Maraming oras pa naman para sa signing. Tutal, di rin ako makakaabot ng July board dahil hinihintay pa namin ang pagbabalik nung isang staff nurse mula sa kung saang lupalop ng mundo nagliwaliw.

Kampante akong umakyat ng bus para sa Sagada na para ala-una. Nakauwi na ako't nagpapahinga nang maisipan kong itala muna yung mga sasabihin ko bukas sa isang kodigo. Yun bang mga 'strong points only' ika nga sa wikang Ingles.

Laking pagkadismaya ko nang di ko mabuksan yung flash drive ko. Leche! Pati ba naman flash drive may corruption na nagaganap?! Tumawag ako agad sa mga kapatid ko para isend yung file. Patay! Ayaw magsend sa dropbox account ko. Hindi naman puno yung dropbox ko. Bakante nga eh. 2GB ang kayang i-contain nun.

Di na ako nag-abala pa. Gumawa nalang ako ng bago. Salamat sa SMARTBRO at sa paminsan-minsan nama'y mabilis kong pag-iisip. Kaso, hindi na siya bongga. Naku, mapapahiya yata aku nito kinabukasan. May parents pa namang dadalo. Hhala! Alalang-alala na talaga ako nung panahong iyon. Hinihintay ko parin yung file mula sa mga kapatid ko. Alas-kuwatro na ng umaga. Wala parin. Makatuwiran ba naman tong nangyayari sa akin ngayon? Malamang hindi.

Ayun, kinalaunan, nerbyos na nerbyos talaga ako. Di ko na talaga alam ang gagawin ko. Alangan naming magback-out ako eh andun na ako. Ayun, natuloy parin pero wala akong kaener-energy na nagspeech. Binigay ko naman yung best ko na alalain yung detalye nung nasa una kong ginawa pero lalong gugulo kaya bits and pieces lang na importante yung mga siningit ko.

Super nakakahiya talaga sa mga parents, students and teachers yung speech kong iyon. Lalo na kay Sir Cal. Naturingan kang magaling tapos puchu-puchu yung message mo? Anu daw yun, di ba? Ampft... Nung pagkatapos ng speech ko, gusto ko talagang bumuka yung lupa at lamunin nalang ako. Inappreciate ko na kinongratulate ako ng mga parents, teachers and students, na kinongratulate ako ni Sir. Ang di ko lang maappreciate ay ang sarili ko. Alam ko kasi sa sarili ko na kulang yung binigay ko. Kulang yung ginawa ko para sa mga estudyante. Kulang na kulang talaga. Pero at least may kaunti naman akong naibahagi... I don't regret that. Atleast meron parin...

Atleast meron paring natitirang kawalang-hiyaan sa katawan ko para samahan silang kumain nang mag-lunch time na.

Dito po nagtatapos ang napakaboring kong manuscript. Maraming salamat po sa aking mga masusugid na tagapagsubaybay sa masalimuot kong buhay.

Meron nga ba? The END (totoo na 'to).

The truth about college

noreply@blogger.com (Lexa Elaine Capuyan) — Thu, 19 May 2011 16:43:00 +0800

Credits: The World Wide Web

College is a bunch of rooms where you sit for two thousand hours or so and try to memorize things. The two thousand hours are spread out over four years. You spend the rest of the time sleeping, partying, and trying to get dates.

Basically, you learn two kinds of things in college

1. Things you will need to know in later life (two hours).

2. Things you will not need to know in later life (1,998 hours).

The latter are the things you learn in classes whose names end in -ology, -osophy, -istry, -ics, and so on. The idea is, you memorize these things, then write them down in little exam books, then forget them. If you fail to forget them, you become a professor and have to stay in college for the rest of your life.

After you've been in college for a year or so, you're supposed to choose a major, which is the subject you intend to memorize and forget the most things about. Here is a very important piece of advice be sure to choose a major that does not involve Known Facts and Right Answers. This means you must not major in mathematics, physics, biology, or chemistry, or geology because these subjects involve actual facts.

If, for example, you major in mathematics, you're going to wander into class one day and the professor will say "Define the cosine integer of the quadrant of a rhomboid binary axis, and extrapolate your result to five significant vertices." If you don't come up with exactly the answer the professor has in mind, you fail.

The same is true of chemistry if you write in your exam book that carbon and hydrogen combine to form oak, your professor will flunk you. He wants you to come up with the same answer he and all the other chemists have agreed on. Scientists are extremely snotty about this.

So you should major in subjects like English, philosophy, psychology, and sociology -- subjects in which nobody really understands what anybody else is talking about, and which involve virtually no actual facts. I attended classes in all these subjects, so I'll give you a quick overview of each.

ENGLISH. This involves writing papers about long books you have read little snippets of just before class. Here is a tip on how to get good grades on your English papers Never say anything about a book that anybody with any common sense would say. For example, suppose you are studying Moby Dick. Anybody with any common sense would say that Moby Dick is a big white whale, since the characters in the book refer to it as a big white whale roughly eleven thousand times. So in your paper, you say Moby Dick is actually the Republic of Ireland. Your professor, who is sick to death of reading papers and never liked Moby Dick anyway, will think you are enormously creative. If you can regularly come up with lunatic interpretations of simple stories, you should major in English.

PHILOSOPHY. Basically, this involves sitting in a room and deciding there is no such thing as reality and then going to lunch. You should major in philosophy if you plan to take a lot of drugs.

PSYCHOLOGY. This involves talking about rats and dreams. Psychologists are obsessed with rats and dreams. I once spent an entire semester training a rat to punch little buttons in a certain sequence, then training my roommate to do the same thing. The rat learned much faster. My roommate is now a doctor. If you like rats or dreams, and above all if you dream about rats, you should major in psychology.

SOCIOLOGY. For sheer lack of intelligibility, sociology is far and away the number one subject. I sat through hundreds of hours of sociology courses, and read gobs of sociology writing, and I never once heard or read a coherent statement. This is because sociologists want to be considered scientists, so they spend most of their time translating simple, obvious observations into scientific-sounding code. If you plan to major in sociology, you'll have to learn to do the same thing. For example, suppose you have observed that children cry when they fall down. You should write "Methodological observation of the sociometrical behavior tendencies of prematurated isolates indicates that a causal relationship exists between groundward tropism and lachrimatory behavior forms." If you can keep this up for fifty or sixty pages, you will get a large government grant.

Remember, education is a lot more than just school.

Ms. Pakipot: Short-ended nga lang

noreply@blogger.com (Lexa Elaine Capuyan) — Thu, 24 Mar 2011 08:36:00 +0800

'You may now take your seats.' Yan ang unang mga salitang lumabas sa aking mga bibig kasabay nang isang ngiting abot-tenga.

Nyahaha... Ang sarap pala ng feeling na ikaw mismo ang makakapagbanggit ng mga salitang iyon. Nagmimistula akong napakaimportanteng tao. Wahaha... Akala ko lang iyon. Masama bang purihin paminsan-minsan ang sariling tuyot sa papuri? Hindi naman siguro, di ba?

Eto na nga. Inimbita ako ng graduating class ng Sagada National High School para sa Senior's day nila. Aba, ako naman itong si Ms. Pakipot. Tumanggi daw ako a. Feel na feel ko talaga. Ang totoo niyan, kakatapos lang nung libing ng kulang nalang sa 1 year, eh century old na lola ko. Eh, sa dami ng mga pinaggagagawa naming mga Igorot dahil sa pagmamahal sa aming kultura at dahil na rin sa respeto ng aming mga ninuno, baka hindi ko mapaghandaan ng husto yung alok nila. Siyempre, kelangan kareerin ang pagka-panauhing pandangal at kung hindi ay baka mauwi sa panauhing walang dangal.

Ehe. Okay na sana eh. Umayaw na ako at tinanggap naman ni Sherenne (siya yung nagtext kung available daw ba akong mag-guest speaker). Sabi pa niya, maghahanap daw sila ng iba. Tinanong niya rin ako kung may pwede pumalit sa aking puwesto (Aba, may pwesto na daw ako.) Siyempre, nag-suggest ako ng di lang isa. Madami akong na-suggest. Sila Rose, Kimberly, Wilfredo, Lester, Daniel at Cindy. Kasama na rin diyan si Manang Karen, Manang Roxanne, Manong JR, Manong Chester, etc.

So, happy na ako sa desisyon na iyon. Wala na akong problema. Sayang man ang oportunidad pero wala akong magagawa. Marami pa namang Senior's day ang darating. Lumipas ang dalawang araw. Naging textmate kami ni Sherenne. Pamangkin din kasi siya nung may-ari ng bahay na nirerentahan namin.

Papunta na ako sa Dao-angan para tumulong para sa unang 'senga' ni lola. Kalalabas ko lang ng bahay nang bigla kong nakasalubong si Sir Cal. Napahapo ako sa noo. Naku, patay ako nito. Yun na nga. Tinanong ni Sir kung nagtext daw ba yung mga seniors. Nilahad ko na lahat pati na rin yung dahilan ko sa di ko pagpayag, pati na rin yung mga na-suggest kong mga mas nararapat maging panauhing pandangal. Nagulat ako sa sagot ni sir. Isang napaka-cool at walang kaabug-abog na, 'NO'. Alam ko namang magaling mangumbinse si Sir. Ang di ko alam, ganito pala siya kagaling mangumbinse. Isang salita lang at POOF! I became koko-crunch. Wahaha... Walang aangal. Bakit ba? Kakaenroll ko palang sa Cheesy 101. Pero, ang cool talaga ni Sir. Idol!

Kaya ayun, tinanggap ko ang offer. The END.

The Debt That All Men Pay

noreply@blogger.com (Lexa Elaine Capuyan) — Thu, 3 Mar 2011 00:38:00 +0800

From the confines of my work table

I was beating the deadline. I've got three more 500 word articles to write in just an hour and there I was--stumped. My mind's not working. It felt like all the words were scrubbed clean from the parts of my brain along Broca's and Wernicke's abode. So, I tried to take a break. I visited my Facebook account and said a few hellos to my twitter followers. It was not a few minutes after I logged in to these social networking sites when I received a text message from my mom that my grandmother was in the hospital. Yes, my grandmother was sick and had been in the hospital for about a week or so. I've planned to take a week off from work inorder to visit her and my boss eagerly agreed but to start my week off on March 6. It was February 26.

A minute later, my cellphone kept beeping with a continuous array of incoming messages. My mother has been keeping me updated about grandma. I was worried. I was e-mailing my employer that I had to go home the next day. Five minutes later, mom said grandma's breathing was slowing down. That was when I realized grandma wasn't about to make it through the night, though I prayed she would atleast wait for me to come home. A minute later after I have sent an email to my employer, ma informed me grandma passed away. It was 7:30 that evening.

I really didn't know what to do for a while. I was shocked. My grandma was old but I never expected her to pass away that early. She was strong. The last time I was home, she was singing and talking frantically. That was a month ago.

And then I felt something. It was a familiar feeling-- a feeling of guilt, a little bit of anger, and a great deal of sadness. Yes, I've felt this way before. And now all those feelings I've gotten over with are now coming back to haunt me one more time. I've never really been there beside my dad when he was battling the Big C. I've been in school trying my very best to make my parents proud of me. I never even knew how grave my dad's condition was until mom had us (my 2 sisters and my brother) visit him at St. Luke's. I never knew he was dying until I saw him go lifeless as I held on to his hands while he was getting prepared for dialysis. It was too late for me to act even though I still tried to connect my dad's oxygen tube to the porthole and up the dosage to 10 litres per minute. My hands were shaking so bad. I wanted to cry but then tears failed to fall. I found myself staring at my mom, crying so hard, so jealous of those tears streaming down her lovely face. I was shocked, stunned, blank, zilch. And then I had to do the hardest thing to do that day. I had to tell my sisters and my barely out-of-toddlerhood brother that dad has passed away. That day was the saddest and the most difficult day in my life.

And here I am feeling the same way about my grandma. The guilt, the anger, the sadness. I never thought I'd feel this way again but here I am wallowing in the same quicksand I have saved myself from years before.

I sent a quick message to my friends that I could not make it for the Itogon outing, logged off and prepared to go home the next day. I never even sent an e-mail to my employer that I am taking the week off early. I just packed my things and stayed up all night, being kept updated by my mom and relatives back home.

The next day was a bit gloomy, as if it was grieving with me. I hopped on the bus bound for home and forced myself to sleep or else I'd just embarrass myself crying all the way home.

I reached Dao-angan in the afternoon and people were just starting to fall in. I went straight to look for my grandma and there she was in her room, on her bed, asleep. Peaceful. I swear I saw her chest rise as I walked in. I looked down upon her face and then I really knew that she is never coming back. Never again will I hear her voice. Never again will I see those beautiful 'bolinawan' eyes. Never again will I see her get out of her seat and brave to crawl the downward path to the pigpen to feed the pigs and crawl right back up to the house while weeding. Never again will I see her hunched down uprooting my uncle's freshly-planted flowers. Never again will I see her talking to the seemingly moving images on a magazine. Lots of things I will never ever see again except when I reel back to back when. I knew right then when I was looking down at her that she will be dearly missed and her memories never forgotten. I silently prayed that the Lord would keep guiding grandma as she finds her way right into His kingdom.

I silently asked for forgiveness from Grandma for shouting at her before and for losing my patience about such trivial things as poking the fire when it's burning, weeding, losing her dentures, and even removing her diapers. I knew it was not my responsibility and I have no right to chide her for doing these. I am so sorry that it was only now that I have understood what it was to be old. Enrolling in the Nursing course helped me realize the wrong things I've done before. And now I feel guilty of the past. I never had the time and commitment to right what I've done wrong. And now I'm too late. I was a day, a month, a year, a lot of opportunities too late. I know the Lord knows how sorry I am and I do hope that wherever grandma is now, she knows how I feel. Forgive me.

I hope that someday when I am able to pay the debt that all men pay, Grandma would be there standing beside St. Peter, my father, Uncle Rudy, Uncle Greg, Uncle Steve and Uncle Jesus, smiling, reaching her hand to me and welcoming me to enter those ever-famous Pearly Gates.

Rosaria 'Basali' Na-oy Capuyan: An Unsung Hero

noreply@blogger.com (Lexa Elaine Capuyan) — Wed, 2 Mar 2011 17:05:00 +0800

Here I am, sitting in front of my computer typing anything that comes to my mind. I have lost an hour of electricity thinking of how I could start this article. I haven’t come up with anything catchy and so this state.

For the past few days since my grandmother passed away, I couldn’t think straight. I couldn’t even think of something to write. I was told by my cousin to write something about my grandmother, just like a tribute, and nothing came to mind. I had, I think, writer’s block. Well, the stress and the shock of my grandmother’s departure may have some effect to that. Usually, I could think readily of something to write if the need comes up. My mind was just a blank slate. I was distracted. I was tired. I was not my usual self. But…

Amidst everything that transpired, I still had a little strength to keep the blood running through my veins and start writing. So here goes: There haven’t been much time spent between my grandmother and I when I was a child for as long as I could remember but I do believe that my grandmother was and will always be a woman of all sorts—a caring and protective mother, an industrious and responsible daughter, a strict and loving grandmother, a no-holds-barred and compassionate aunt, a giving and forgiving sister, a trusted and trusting friend.

Yes, that’s what the name Rosaria ‘Basali’ Naoy Capuyan holds. She may be petite but to me, she held the world at her hands. That said, I know of one thing (which my mother and father relayed to us when we were young). Grandma Basali was never one to shy away from ominous rumblings of danger or crumble down when storms of challenges rush past her. She was never one to back down. She was never a person to think of herself first before others. Never selfish. Never one to cower when bolts of obstacles strike from the heavens. Instead, she braved every raging storm, every bullet of trouble, every downpour which brought danger to her loved ones. My grandmother was that strong – a superhero in my own slit inscrutable eyes.

Images of my spent time with Grandma rush past my eyes as I look upon my Grandma's face on her bed. I remember when I was young, Grandma Basali took me to Danonoy to "lumokso". I would never forget the time when I went with her to the fields and watched as she dug up the soil and was amazed as elongated things from the ground emerged as she turned the soil inside out and there I was watching from the sidelines. I called these Things "food from the ground" and later on learned they were called camote.

My Grandma has been forever an epitome of a tender loving and caring Grandma. As we were about to go home from the fields, she would pack some of the camote she gathered in a piece of cloth or sack and tied the ends together. Then she attached it to the end of a stick and gave it to me to carry and then we went on our way home. This only shows that she always did everything to make things easier and better for others.

Even after years and years of not seeing Grandma as she was in the States, she still came back as a tender-loving and caring Grandma. She would always tell us to feed the people first before we feed her. At 92, she could still walk well and find a pot to use for cooking rice. She would always tell us to check if there would be enough food or if we have cooked rice because as she always says, "inayan tay nu wada dumateng".

I am really really grateful that the Lord has bestowed upon us a Grandma as grandma Basali. I, with my sisters and brother are really thankful that you are our Grandma. Thank you very much for having our dad and for having us.

I would never forget what you have done for us, Grandma. You will always be part of us and your memories will linger on. Keep guiding us as you always have done. We will miss you dearly.

----- Bravo's Angels ------