by Virginia Jaranilla

Toto, I have something to tell you. A long time ago, there lived a family called the Jaranillas. They were a wealthy, landed family in Iloilo. At that time, in the early 19th century, Iloilo was the center of all trade in the Visayas, and ships from Manila would stop there on their way to Mindanao, and ships from Mindanao would ( Read more... )

Yesterday, at work, it was not particularly busy, but my boss kept making me do stuff that I can't do, like assemble this broken patio chair whose parts wouldn't fit together and would refuse to cooperate. I know it wasn't my fault, and that the chair was already broken in the first place, but a great feeling of inadequacy overcame me, and I haven' ( Read more... )

I was the family driver today. My grandmother, who is in her late 70s, brought me (and Mom) to one of her jobs. Among other things, she works as a florist in a "Michael's" store, on of the many warehouse stores that provides hobbyists with arts and crafts materials. She has three jobs. She has no savings and owes a lot of money. She (and mom) ( Read more... )

Mom took me around town. We rode the bus to the train station, and rode the red line train to a commercial district along Clark Avenue. We went to a thrift store owned by a Mexican family; it looked more like an ukay-ukay though. Mom bought some coats for me (apparently, all of the jackets I brought from the Philippines weren't thick enough, and ( Read more... )