imminence of death, loss or injury

JEOPARDY, as defined is an exposure to or imminence of death, loss or injury. It was derived from Middle English, Anglo-French term ‘jeuparti’ which literally means divided. Synonymous to it would be distress, endangerment, peril, trouble.

Antonyms: preservation, salvation, defense, protection.

Double Jeopardy, 1999

Since time immemorial, studying vocabulary had become one of my challenging habits. When I was starting out, I had the notion that synonyms are the good side of the word and antonyms are the bad ones. In most words, there are more synonyms than antonyms. I liked noting the synonyms better. Just so-so with the opposites.

Having the online Thesaurus can make me define the terms easily. Can this definition, though, keep us preserved and protected when faced with jeopardy? I cannot rely on either the dictionary or thesaurus this time.

It ain’t easy battling with one’s doubts and pride. Even FOREX trading has become easy with my daily undertakings. So does computing the odds for a Mix parlay on Sports betting. The next thing that I want to get used to is speaking conversational Mandarin, not just the “bad words” (as again, credited to Shi Liu ;-) F-i-s-h!) The lurking threats has suddenly driven me madder than ever.

Seriously, I feel like my turf is faced with double jeopardy. One enemy already around, soon the other enemy will be around.

L***e! Isa-isa lang, para patas at hindi ako mahinang kalaban.

I will kill for the antonyms: preservation, salvation, defense, protection – as murder isn’t always a crime.

Of Indochina and Household Chores In Bloomers

The marching band.

I have always coveted to be a majorette. Not even a baton leader, but just to be a majorette. I want to wear bloomer shorts under those semi-tutu skirts, dance on the streets with the rhythm played by the little drummer boys. And those high-heeled boots…oh, those high heeled boots!!!

In high school, I have successfully convinced my parents to take me out of the convent and to get me into the public school where the rest of my cousins were - of course, with the ulterior motive to get into the marching band. In the same year, the band was…disbanded! Along with it was my shattered dream of those cute bloomer shorts.

I have to set aside this dream, to make a way for more dreams. Some other dreams whose rhythm plays only in my heart.

Proposed entry: Ho Chi Minh; Proposed Exit: Bangkok

When I received an invitation for WD funded research, hopefully to happen within the second to the last quarter of the year, my heart is exalted. I hope to cross four countries on a backpack. For sure, it is not going to be like the other travels where I base myself in the capital and enjoy the city. It will be more of the countryside, landmines and crossing borders on a bus, hopefully not at gunpoint. I hope that the cease fire between Thailand in Cambodia is now on by that time as the conflict over Preah Vihea is still under negotiation.  I see myself doing an interview with the Cambodian army as well as crossing paths with the Vietnamese soldiers. It will be a great challenge, but an opportunity for me to do the things I love. Who knows, it might get me a Pulitzer or a Nobel?!? Whoah!  Just being ambitious.

I still have the time to think. As I did some, here comes another one of my dreams. To be make my home a source of love, comfort and happiness for my family: to make sure that the kids have their snacks and their homework done when they go to school; to make sure that Ram’s got a hanky in his pocket when he’s at work; and when they come home at the end of the day, I have to make sure that my arms are waiting to give them the tightest embrace.

Before I take upon the destiny of the household chores that I would gladly surrender to, I will have some great experiences to tell my kids. Stories of the goodness of life and strange, beautiful dreams that drive every man, as they too, will begin to take off on their dreams. Wouldn’t it be great to tell them about the Saigon river over a delicious jelly afternoon snack while Daddy’making the dinner steak marinade? (Totyal daw sa mga ‘kano lang bah! Steak a.k.a. sinugba! Hihi.)  Yes indeed, it would be great fun.

I am keeping my fingers crossed that my Indochina research it will come true. I will get a confirmation in six weeks as my entry portfolio is being reviewed. I pray that the Lord will grant me all the desires of my heart. 

For so long, I have whined and fretted. Recently in an experiential conversation with Ram, I have mentioned, “Being a majorette has been my dream. Wala gid ko ya kaagi majorette. Mayo ka pa naka drummer boy!” Quickly he said, “Honey, para lang na ya sa mga gwapa!”

We both laughed, but I had second thoughts wanting to cry kay hambal ya para lang na sa mga gwapa…but then again, I analyzed ‘para lang na sa mga gwapa’.

Therefore, to him, GWAPA-GWAPA GID KO YA!!! ***Bleh!!!

With this, another of my dream is waiting to happen again. To lie in his arms with no bloomers on -  and in three years time, we will be buying our baby girl her own baton.

Arte, Arte!

"There are painters who transform the sun to a yellow spot, but there are others who, with the help of their art and their intelligence, transform a yellow spot into sun." 

— Pablo Picasso

KL to MNL, June 2010: Stolen Wings

Poetry. Painting. Photography.

Three of the things in literature that I love most. My dad used to kid me, “You are so fond of the things that apparently stops your world from turning. Rid it, or else you are not going to live long.” Maybe so.

An artful life ain’t easy. My masterpieces will always have to deal with the critics and the cynics. I get through it, but beat. Scarred, even. Yet, that does not stop me from doing the things that could extend time and could keep the moment forever. I always imagine my life on the brink and there is always a great way to spend it before falling into the abyss.

Yes, I spread myself too thin with my inclination to writing. Again, I risk being obscured. I might tear as I get past the curves but my life is not for others to question. They will, they can but I will never let them live it for me. I will not dwell in my mistakes for I can do better than I did - much better than they did. My mistakes, though they put me in the limelight of public scrutiny, will not make me less.

My world does not stop turning just because I wrote about it, translated it onto a blank canvass or clicked the shutter. It goes on as it must. The advantage is that I can relive the moment when times get rough. It will remind me that I made it through those days. A lifetime is too short to live just one day in a day. If I could live two days in one, why not?

When the time comes that my life is without me, it will still be full of me. The people I love can continue to read the poetry and prose that I have written – should they miss me. They will relive the moments with me. My children (children-in plural form; I intend to have more) will love to share with their friends photos from their childhood - that I have taken. And they, too, can believe that the life can be kept still.

Poetry. Painting. Photography.

Many times, I have stood on a line between giving up and seeing how much I could take. Then I realized, that with the amount of passion I have, the public and forever won’t be enough to test my limit.

Holy 411

When all else fails, I hold on to my faith and talk to the Lord. Alongside my prayers are questions and simple requests that I know He would grant. 

And I said, “Lord, I am in no ambition of the riches of the world for I know You will provide sufficiently for me and my family, as You always did. Though that does not make me a totally good girl, I am worthy to love. That is the reason you breathed life into me and now, I seem to be dislodged from that purpose. I want to function well as your instrument of love and peace.  Can I have some information please?”

In between sips of my morning coffee, he gave me what I needed to know. Just like that.

He said, “Now what? I also need to know what you are going to do now that you have what you need.”

Humirit pa ulit ako. “May I have more time?”

“You can take all the time you need, but remember, this granted request has a purpose. You have to take action or it will be again, buried beneath those pain. I made you sensible enough to surrender into numbness and dumbness,” He bargained.

Then, I heard my son giggle at his discovery of the sunlight from the window. I was given the gift of life to keep. I have to be always certain that I am there in moments like this. He will discover more sunrises  and sunsets, and the in-betweens. Soon, we will be arguing about the difference between Mongol pencil No.1 and No.2. He will go to field trips and jamborees. I am beginning to anticipate the time he would tell me, “Mommy, I’m in love.”

I have to make sure that he knows he is worthy to love and be loved – that I did not give him up for some fleeting feelings of attraction, and that no one else can stand in between the dreams we have built and the beautiful life that we are about to live.

Saying my prayers of gratitude for all the kindness of the Lord and His love, I had to leave my babe and keep the faith that at the end of the day: I will make it through tomorrow.

tumblr Sunday!

Don't Derek Morgan and I look great together on a page?

My Monday is everybody’s Friday. When all the world is at rest, here I am busting my ass explaining financial terms! I wish I could spend half of this day in the salon for a hair trim and a beautiful manicure, plus, I need to find my baby B a real cute hat. I need to get my party dress from the shop and make a report – on a Sunday. Presently not-so-perfect and tense.

Gladly, though, working on a weekend isn’t so toxic. Less traffic, no bosses. I can sneak on blogging and make some posts on my tumblr. How I owe you a lot tumblr.com! Although sometimes you’re too heavy a site for my already jampacked internet connection, you never fail to be there for comfort, expression and a friend to lean on. If only I could treat you for a Caramel Macchiato grande, I would. No doubt, I would. Presently not-so-perfect and less tense.

Still, Sundays are best.

http://rambahfaith.tumblr.com

what about love

=) Just Pop Rockin'! I love HEART!

What About Love - Heart
I've been lonely
I've been waiting for you
I'm pretending and that's all I can do
The love I'm sending
Ain't making it through to your heart
You've been hiding - never letting it show
Always trying to keep it under control
You got it down and you're well
On the way to the top
But there's something that you forgot
What about love
Don't you want someone to care about you
What about love
Don't let it slip away
What about love
I only want to share it with you
You might need it some day
I can't tell you what you're feeling inside
I can't sell you what you don't want to buy
Something's missing and you got to
Look back on your life
You know something here just ain't right
What about love
Don't you want someone to care about you
What about love
Don't let it slip away
What about love
I only want to share it with you
What about love
Don't you want someone to care about you
What about love
Don't let it slip away
What about love
I only want to share it with you

dawnbreak

Its breaking dawn.

Its breaking my heart.

Just like most of the crowd on the way to work, the chill of the early February morning can’t help but help me get forlorn. I wish the little birdie didn’t tell me so. He should’ve kept it all to himself knowing that it would be bothersome, least it would hurt.

Yet, the little birdie is uncanny. He just couldn’t keep himself still, and I’ve got to know.

Tsk. Tsk. Tsk.

Its breaking dawn.

Its breaking my heart.

Now Michael Bolton, you don’t know what its like. You’ll never know what its like. 

Let’s drown together.

http://en.dilandau.eu/download_music/to-love-somebody-michael-bolton-1.html#5

Promises Kept

Nothing False. When I got to the Maybelline stall, I asked for the classic Great Lash mascara hoping they got back on the shelf. To my dismay, it was already totally phased out. In memory of how it came to be, a girl named Mabel was caught by his brother mixing coal dust and Vaseline to put on her lashes to attract the man she loves. The chemist brother took advantage of his lovestruck sister’s homemade lash definer and called it Maybelline Great Lash mascara. I was sad to say goodbye to my bashy eyelash when the saleslady offered me to try one of their newest formulas – Maybelline Volum’ Express The Magnum Mascara. Due to rush I did not do the usual testing. When I put it on, what can I say? As promised, I got the great volume that I desire. Not much with the length, though. Anyway, my lashes are naturally long. Looks false without the false.

Switched for Cover. Since time immemorial, these freckles are nothing but an ache to my sight! We got it from our Dad’s side. Fair and freckled. I can’t get rid of them or hide them, so I’ve got to lighten them. I had to jump from one base foundation to another until six years ago, I found my skin found domesticity with VMV. I didn’t mind the sticky nature for as long as it can have me covered. Lately, my beauty consultant gave me a sampler of the Mary Kay Liquid Foundation in Full Coverage. All the lightening and base foundation that I need, without the sticky feel. It does not only only become a second skin – it becomes a part of my skin!

Underdog Under My Arms. I was planning to have my underarms undergo Mosbeau whitening treatment for it darkened due to pregnancy. This was actually one of the first signs that I have conceived, but after childbirth,  it’s the first one that I want whitened. Mosbeau is quite expensive and there I was standing torn between getting rid of the dark and another can of infant formula. And I remembered Yoko. Not John Lennon’s Yoko, but the underarm whitening cream that my Thai friend mentioned. It may not be so popular, but I might as well give it a try. In a week’s time, there was more progress than expected.  

Cocoa, Shea and Me. Not until the seventh month of my pregnancy did I have any stretch marks. As I got into my last trimester, there they were…giggling on my stomach skin. When the baby was out, my skin looked not less than a crumpled paper with all those stretch marks. Do you think saying goodbye to my two-piece bikinis forever is easy? I still dream of a photoshoot under the sun with the sand and the sea! Palmer’s Cocoa Butter Formula Massage Cream for Stretch Marks is doing a great job. It has already flattened and smoothened the crumps and now, all I have to wait for is its lightening. The mark of motherhood may be there to stay, but I will not let it get in the way for my two-piece bikinis!

Proud Filipino: AKO!

“Ay ang cute! Kano ba ang Daddy nya? (How cute! Is his Daddy American?)”

 “Hindi po. (No, Ma’am)”

“Ahhh…siguro Inchik. (Ahhh…He’s Chinese, I suppose.)”

“Hindi po.(No, Ma’am.)”

“Ha? Eh anong lahi ng Daddy nya? (Ha? So what’s his Daddy’s race then?)”

“Lahing Pinoy  po. Chinitong Ilonggo. (He is a Filipino. Chinese looking-Ilonggo.)”

“Eh, nasaan ang Mommy nya?(Where’s his mom?)”

“Anak ko po! (He’s my son!)”

I have had it with that woman! It’s a good thing that the elevator doors opened that very moment or else we could have exchanged some not so good rebuttals. Plus, we got to left her behind –children or babies on prams first! She’s mistaken me for a nanny? I may not have worn any make up on a relaxing Sunday but that classless woman!…and how impossible can Filipino parents produce a good-looking kid? Poor madam. Gosh!

Sharing another faith.

Thinking about this mall incident, I looked at both sides of my station. On my right is a Thai guy. On my left it’s a Viet girl. In front of me, Chinese - Oh Shi Liu why did you cut your own hair!? The top part is okay but the sides? Waaah! LOL! Behind me is a row of Viets, Chinese and Korean combo. The next Filipino employee is seated 15 meters away from me. We can endorse the United Colors of Benetton – Asian edition. What have I got in line next? Training new Cambodian employees. See you soon, Angkor Wat!

I have acquaintances, friends and families from all over the world. From time to time, we exchange our

Bangkok, Thailand: working with a foreigner - Supphatra Kiawsungnoen.

stories and experiences in working with foreigners. Some say good, mostly say bad. Most often, I hear them say that these people treat Filipinos as inferior, subordinate and as breathing mechanical slaves. Less do I hear that they are being uplifted or even equally treated. It leaves them not so much of a  choice. Being immigrant workers they have to be submissive to keep their jobs and avoid deportation. For this reason, subservience is considerable. Nobody wants to be the next Flor Contemplacion, right? Being treated in the same way in your own country is another story.

Lately, I’ve been dealing with such issues. I went back to work after a 60-day maternity leave, and of course, I have heard the “gossip”:  No more Filipinos are to be hired in our department.

So discriminatingly racial.

There goes I, stabbing every foreign soul in the building with my insulting remarks, threats of deportation and wagging my horns as tails, too. How can one’s right to employment be curtailed in his own country? Would we be subservient to other races on this? For once, we can speak English way, way better than they can! My mind was clouded with reviewing the Labor Code, thinking about gathering the evidences and arms ready for an anytime upheaval.

Adorable Viet coffee lover. Ngo Trinh Quyn Nhu - thanks for those afternoons!

Came my day off and while babysitting, I realized:  Everyone is created equal. No one can govern you without your consent, as it was said and written. In practice, we were taught subordination as a part (and will always be a part) of our advancement in the corporate ladder. There are bosses to deal with and in my case, they happened to be of different nationalities. I thought about what made them think ill about Filipino employees in general, despite the fact that they can save cost on the payroll.

I needed the reinforcement of his Daddy’s video clips to lull Biscocho to sleep. When he is off to his dreams of swimming in a pool of milk and fresh new  diapers (I suppose that’s what babies dream of), I took a peek on some of my work and checked the QA data dated back to the days that I was on leave. OMG! There goes the reason for the downfall of the Filipino team in our department. Bad cheetah! I have to do some clean up on this mess. When I got to work, there I go taking out the weakest links. Y’know. Sad but some must  go. 

Indolence at work has made Filipinos very ineffective, thus leading other races to lead. We can be at par, or

Merdeka Square, KL - a land not mine

even better. Working with them in our own country have all its advantages. We have all the reasons to be proactive, even if subordinated we must never be subservient. Many of them does not like me for I am starightforward – far from being unassuming, naïve and not so questioning as they see us to be, but I am in my best efforts to be indispensible. Besides the fact that I have a mouth to feed, it makes me so proud to show the rest of the world that Filipinos can get away from the label of “inferior manpower” (as I have heard one boss describe it – duh? Inferior? Manpower? How can such power be inferior? Both words stand on the opposite sides of intensity. A little diction check please, Inchik! Hmpf…).

Delivering more quality work, integrity and knowledge, they now seldom tell the tale. When they say something negative about my people and my country, for sure they do it at night when they are all huddled in their condos, but not in my presence. I say no more about them, except that I treat everyone in the respect that they deserve. I am loyal to my job and I can say that as a Filipino, I do it best.  After all, I still desire to be a friend to everyone after work shifts are over. Sometimes, I need one and it doesn’t matter – foreign or not.

in Cambodia where children gather to ask for food.

Many times, I too, had been a foreigner. I have stayed on lands not mine. I had been with people who do not speak my language, do not look like me and do not believe in the same advocacies, not to mention having contrasting faiths with mine. I have been to cities cleaner and more industrialized than my own country, and I too, have seen poorer situations than our own. This opened my heart to equality – made my heart one with the world – and made me proudest to be a Filipino than ever before.