tête-à-tête

What a 2011 this has been! I don't even know how to start squeezing in here all that happened. Should I start at the time when I was evicted from the boarding house I stayed in for 3 years because a housemate who had been there for just a year assaulted me in my room but the landlord took his side and when I tried to complain to local authorities (i.e. barangay tanod), they all ganged up against me instead? Maybe I did incense my housemate with my swearing, but did that warrant his attack? Right outside my room he made repeated threats and I couldn't just dismiss them so I called the supposedly emergency hotline 117 for protection, but it was a tragedy in itself because no police came. Not even after a second call. Maybe I didn't sound real enough as I was frantically telling her my emergency? Or maybe because 117 is simply a joke? Long story short, tanods came and I instantly became a victim of their miserable lack of professionalism and reason. While at the barangay hall, they made malicious references to my gender and uttered remarks that showed their prejudice against me. Fortunately though, the lady councilor I requested exercised fairness and dutifully questioned the landlord about her threats to sequestrate my belongings if I failed to pay my dues which she blatantly and proudly overstated. The lady official also walked me to the boarding house and stayed until I had walked out with all of my possessions.

As if 11 was an inscribed symbol of downfall, this year was a melange of other unfortunate events. The first salvo happened in October as I was leaving for Malaysia. The immigration officer asked standard questions which I believe I convincingly answered, but for some reason he requested that I talk to another officer for re-evaluation - a gesture so ominous I instantly started conditioning myself that that trip was never going to happen. It was so Clark 2010 all over again! That day I was leaving for my first trip abroad which coincided with the time when airports had intensified security measures against drug mules coming in and out of the country. After going past the immigration and having no previous air travels, I naively asked an immigration officer where the boarding area was. But instead of becoming my guide, he turned into a snoopy guy who thought my reason for going to Malaysia wasn't for real. Did he think I was some drug trafficker posing as a tourist who would actually swallow cocaine capsules for money? An hour later, I was on my way back to Manila on the same bus I took to Clark. But I had to be in Malaysia, so that night my boss booked another ticket and what a lucky night it was because hours later I was exchanging ear to ear smiles with Malaysian immigration officers at the world's fourth best airport. Back to one of the world's worst, my colleague was past the immigration and the ground crew were making last calls for our flight. Meanwhile, I was standing in front of a reasonable-looking officer as he was thoroughly studying my papers. I still think that the limited time had a major role why I got to fly. If it hadn't been because I only had 10 minutes left to make it to the plane, the immigration officer wouldn't have asked questions fast and my spontaneous responses wouldn't have gotten more obvious to him. So yes, I barely had the time to put my shoes back on after X-ray and I literally sprinted my way to the plane.

I had a blast in Malaysia. The people in Langkawi were so welcoming and the weather was perfect for enjoying the awesome sights. But the cloudless sky and warm weather were in utter contrast with the situation back home. Within just a week, Luzon was battered by three typhoons that caused massive floods in many areas. The gusty winds of typhoon Pedring were so strong they tore off roofs and billboards and brought down trees and electric posts. Power was out for days and there was no way to get through to anyone for first-hand information. Days later, typhoon Quiel made landfall and brought rains that inundated low-lying barangays. The news showed the expanse of flood and all the terrifying stories with it. My mom told me she and my dad had to evacuate to the neighbor's house because they didn't think ours, being old and shaky, could hold through the raging flood. From where they were they could see all sorts of things being washed away in the deluge - houses, animals, logs, etc. When I was a kid and there was flood, I saw how scared my mom would get. It hurt me a lot seeing her shake and cry because our house might not be able to withstand the strong current. So I couldn't imagine how terrified she was to experience it all over again knowing how much more decrepit our house had gotten over the years. She honestly thought she would have nowhere to go home to. Amazingly, despite another typhoon that came later that week and some parts of the roof that snapped off, our house is still standing. So are my parents and million others who are in the middle of this perennial problem.

2011 was also the year I lost a confidante, friend, and "mother." I met Mother Malu in 2005 when we were just starting to teach at a Korean language center. I could tell that she didn't like me at first but I was young, confident, and I couldn't care less about an old diabetic lady or what she thought of me. But the culture of mentoring and togetherness among the teachers put us all closer to one another. Our years together were eventually defined by eating and drinking cups of coffee at the same table, sharing our foibles and exploits with each other, having get-togethers particularly during payday. Some consider age a bad word, but mother was one of those who would just laugh it off especially when we would jokingly remind her about it. At 60, she was much older than everybody else at school but she was so cool one could spend hours talking to her about anything and everything. In fact, she could have a 5-year old student and a 50-year old tutee and both classes would be equally animated and productive. She was so passionate about teaching and her wisdom was something that I had the privilege to learn from. I remember when once she invited me over to her place to teach me the ropes of marketing which she used to do for a living. She showed me samples of their projects and told me about those glorious days when she was at the top of her craft and the unfortunate circumstances that eventually led to losing much of what she had. Maybe I wasn't able to tell her about it, but more than the lessons in marketing, I learned a greater deal from her amazing adventures and enduring faith and I truly miss that summer afternoon when she opened her life to me and allowed me to be part of it. Now, her memories are all I have. After a year, I still pine for the days we would bicker over our differences in teaching styles but later make up, for those mornings and afternoons we would try to stop her from drinking too much coffee. I still long for the time I could hear her speak for everybody the way only she could. And I wish I could tell her now that her nudging me into nourishing my faith wasn't a waste of her time.

This entry could be viewed as a typical litany of complaints about the unfairness of life specially if I also mention my laptop that conked out. On the contrary, I intend this as a testament to the faithfulness of that Big Guy up there. In the middle of all the chaos and struggles, He sent His angels to help me through. Angels who took the forms of my boyfriend and bestfriend whose love empowers me, of that lady councilor who responded to my helplessness, of my boss and a colleague who came to my rescue when I needed a shelter and resources to pay off my dues, of my dear friends who were "online" beyond Facebook, and of all those smiles I learned to appreciate. I can't disregard those instances when someone was providentially there for me, for my family. That immigration officer who allowed me to board could have been that same guy who offloaded the woman standing in line behind me. Three typhoons in a row could have easily wrecked our house, but it remains standing. This was the most challenging year thus far, but despite the myriad of humbling experiences that came along, I have never felt so blessed. A friend summed it up in a text he sent me - "If your problem is as big as a ship, don't forget that your blessings are as wide as the ocean!"


Copyright © 2009 by DenniSinned2. All rights reserved.

Labels: 117, 2011, airport, barangay, Clark, immigration officer, Langkawi, Malaysia, Pedring, Quiel, typhoon