Ay kamote, bente na ako?!
As I sit and type out this entry, the night is quiet, dry and windless outside. Further away, however, tragedy and despair continue to flood the already saturated streets of Luzon. Today's headline reads: RP in State of Calamity. Sitting down where I am, no hint of disaster nor grief is evident. It could very well be a normal night that has never heard of Ondoy or Pepeng. But it is not. And in two hours, I am going to turn twenty.
Now I'm not going to go back into the past and muse on how it seems only yesterday that I learned how to tie my shoelaces or that soon, I'll be holding my college diploma. Because I don't feel like pondering on my coming of age. This is a very, very wrong time to turn twenty. The world is groaning from over consumption, globalization and rape of the environment. Climate change and recession are the prices we are slowly and painfully paying for the mistakes we have committed throughout history and continue to hardheadedly and hopelessly commit today. The future is a swirling mass of dark gray and brown right now, like the flooded streets our people are still fighting through. It's scary. Any time, we could step into a manhole and fall into oblivion. The current is unpredictable and could carry us to who knows where. And turning a year older will just take me one step further into that churning torrent of the unknown.
After typing that previous paragraph, I pause, devoid of any continuation to that train of thought. I know I must salvage it somehow, turn it into clearer waters and a sunnier disposition. I know there is a silver lining here, somehow, I know. I must find it, and point it out. It is not out of a need to pacify my own soul, but out of a responsibility to hope. Because hope is a responsibility.
I guess I should deflate my previous refusal to ponder on turning twenty, because that's what I'll be doing right now. Twenty. I loathe the idea that I no longer have a good excuse for acting like a kid. I cringe when I imagine the greater expressions of surprise on people's faces when they find out that I am twenty yet I still look like a High School Student. I feel sad when I realize that the youngest child of Ed and Chloe Ramos is now on the verge of graduating, and possibly, moving away from home. But soon, I'm going to be earning my own money and supporting my family. I'm going to vote for our next president in a few months. Most of all, I realize that I have been alive and blessed for twenty years. To quote Ryan Roa (hehe): "Biruin mo, pinanganak ako". The recognition of this fact goes pop! my head, much like the first pop you hear when cooking popcorn in the microwave. Soon, you know, there will be a chorus of pops and the aroma of cooking butter.
Looking back on the events of the past week, I am reminded of a Joey Velasco painting. Joey Velasco is the painter of works that show Jesus in the most everyday Filipino settings and with the most ordinary characters- dining with a band of street children, hugging an old man, behind an imprisoned youth. He meant to tell his viewers that Jesus is everywhere- a truth that was proven right, rather than wrong, this week. Jesus was present in the likes of Muelmar Magallanes, who saved a baby and 30 other lives from the flood, before getting swept away by the current. I saw Jesus in the many Good Samaritans who opened the door of their homes to let strangers in. Jesus is in each and every one of those who graced the doorstep of a relief center, put clothes and canned goods in a plastic bag for the victims, or said a fervent prayer to God to deliver us. Who says that the Filipinos no longer have any hero to look up to? We have plenty.
In Jostein Gaarder's "the Solitaire Mystery", he writes of a magical island that crumbles from within. This picture used to strike me as quite odd, until I realized that our earth seems as if its eating itself alive, which sounds even more severe. I do know that in due time, this world is headed for someplace at breakneck speed, much like a bike with broken brakes careening downhill. I use the generic word someplace because I don't know what it is. But I'm not just waiting to die either.
There are things- lots of things- bigger and stronger than me- that I know I will never be able to fully comprehend, much less fix. Going veggie for the rest of my life and walking everywhere may not end global warming. My vote for Candidate A may be outnumbered by twenty more votes for Candidate B. I can boycott all the plastic straws I want and use silverware forever but the number of dumpsites in Metro Manila will remain the same. But I do know that I am not small nor weak enough to be insignificant. One person with the name of Mahatma Ghandi started the non-violent revolution in India. One dove brought back to Noah good news of dry land. Even one durian in a public place can send tens of people away holding their breaths. Good grief- I AM MORE SIGNIFICANT THAN A DURIAN! And once again, the marvelous kuya Ryan reminds me "Biruin mo, pinanganak ka!" And the popping sound in the microwave increases to such a jubilant rucus and the whole house is explodes with butter-scented joy.
What was I thinking? This is a good time to turn twenty. This is the BEST TIME to turn twenty!
It is now 11:45. In my last fifteen minutes of being a teen, I pause again, this time not out of a need to salvage anything out of hopelessness, but out of a need to stop and marvel. At everything that has been done, is being done and will be done. And just as quickly as the nineteen years of my life have passed, I now find myself staring at a clock that says 11:53 a.m.
The air outside the house remains still. The schizophrenic weather seems to have gone to bed for the time being. And the floodwaters in my head have receded. I do hope that in real life, it will be like that soon. You know, quite possibly, among the homeless, bereaved and deprived, there is another girl out there who is turning twenty like me. I have nothing but prayers for her and I wish her all the faith and fortitude to get her through this ordeal. I wish I could lend her my clothes, sit her at our dining table, give her my bed. But all i can give her right now is my heart.
As I type up this last paragraph, it is now 12:02. I am now 20 years and 2 minutes old. A few minutes ago, Angeli gave me the best piece of advice ever about turning twenty: "Somehow, it feels right. You just learn to step into your own adult skin. And I think I will do just that.
Good night world. I will sleep now. But I will see you tomorrow.
***Happy birthday too to Victor Medina, Kiten Capili and Alejandro Consolacion. :)
Now I'm not going to go back into the past and muse on how it seems only yesterday that I learned how to tie my shoelaces or that soon, I'll be holding my college diploma. Because I don't feel like pondering on my coming of age. This is a very, very wrong time to turn twenty. The world is groaning from over consumption, globalization and rape of the environment. Climate change and recession are the prices we are slowly and painfully paying for the mistakes we have committed throughout history and continue to hardheadedly and hopelessly commit today. The future is a swirling mass of dark gray and brown right now, like the flooded streets our people are still fighting through. It's scary. Any time, we could step into a manhole and fall into oblivion. The current is unpredictable and could carry us to who knows where. And turning a year older will just take me one step further into that churning torrent of the unknown.
After typing that previous paragraph, I pause, devoid of any continuation to that train of thought. I know I must salvage it somehow, turn it into clearer waters and a sunnier disposition. I know there is a silver lining here, somehow, I know. I must find it, and point it out. It is not out of a need to pacify my own soul, but out of a responsibility to hope. Because hope is a responsibility.
I guess I should deflate my previous refusal to ponder on turning twenty, because that's what I'll be doing right now. Twenty. I loathe the idea that I no longer have a good excuse for acting like a kid. I cringe when I imagine the greater expressions of surprise on people's faces when they find out that I am twenty yet I still look like a High School Student. I feel sad when I realize that the youngest child of Ed and Chloe Ramos is now on the verge of graduating, and possibly, moving away from home. But soon, I'm going to be earning my own money and supporting my family. I'm going to vote for our next president in a few months. Most of all, I realize that I have been alive and blessed for twenty years. To quote Ryan Roa (hehe): "Biruin mo, pinanganak ako". The recognition of this fact goes pop! my head, much like the first pop you hear when cooking popcorn in the microwave. Soon, you know, there will be a chorus of pops and the aroma of cooking butter.
Looking back on the events of the past week, I am reminded of a Joey Velasco painting. Joey Velasco is the painter of works that show Jesus in the most everyday Filipino settings and with the most ordinary characters- dining with a band of street children, hugging an old man, behind an imprisoned youth. He meant to tell his viewers that Jesus is everywhere- a truth that was proven right, rather than wrong, this week. Jesus was present in the likes of Muelmar Magallanes, who saved a baby and 30 other lives from the flood, before getting swept away by the current. I saw Jesus in the many Good Samaritans who opened the door of their homes to let strangers in. Jesus is in each and every one of those who graced the doorstep of a relief center, put clothes and canned goods in a plastic bag for the victims, or said a fervent prayer to God to deliver us. Who says that the Filipinos no longer have any hero to look up to? We have plenty.
In Jostein Gaarder's "the Solitaire Mystery", he writes of a magical island that crumbles from within. This picture used to strike me as quite odd, until I realized that our earth seems as if its eating itself alive, which sounds even more severe. I do know that in due time, this world is headed for someplace at breakneck speed, much like a bike with broken brakes careening downhill. I use the generic word someplace because I don't know what it is. But I'm not just waiting to die either.
There are things- lots of things- bigger and stronger than me- that I know I will never be able to fully comprehend, much less fix. Going veggie for the rest of my life and walking everywhere may not end global warming. My vote for Candidate A may be outnumbered by twenty more votes for Candidate B. I can boycott all the plastic straws I want and use silverware forever but the number of dumpsites in Metro Manila will remain the same. But I do know that I am not small nor weak enough to be insignificant. One person with the name of Mahatma Ghandi started the non-violent revolution in India. One dove brought back to Noah good news of dry land. Even one durian in a public place can send tens of people away holding their breaths. Good grief- I AM MORE SIGNIFICANT THAN A DURIAN! And once again, the marvelous kuya Ryan reminds me "Biruin mo, pinanganak ka!" And the popping sound in the microwave increases to such a jubilant rucus and the whole house is explodes with butter-scented joy.
What was I thinking? This is a good time to turn twenty. This is the BEST TIME to turn twenty!
It is now 11:45. In my last fifteen minutes of being a teen, I pause again, this time not out of a need to salvage anything out of hopelessness, but out of a need to stop and marvel. At everything that has been done, is being done and will be done. And just as quickly as the nineteen years of my life have passed, I now find myself staring at a clock that says 11:53 a.m.
The air outside the house remains still. The schizophrenic weather seems to have gone to bed for the time being. And the floodwaters in my head have receded. I do hope that in real life, it will be like that soon. You know, quite possibly, among the homeless, bereaved and deprived, there is another girl out there who is turning twenty like me. I have nothing but prayers for her and I wish her all the faith and fortitude to get her through this ordeal. I wish I could lend her my clothes, sit her at our dining table, give her my bed. But all i can give her right now is my heart.
As I type up this last paragraph, it is now 12:02. I am now 20 years and 2 minutes old. A few minutes ago, Angeli gave me the best piece of advice ever about turning twenty: "Somehow, it feels right. You just learn to step into your own adult skin. And I think I will do just that.
Good night world. I will sleep now. But I will see you tomorrow.
***Happy birthday too to Victor Medina, Kiten Capili and Alejandro Consolacion. :)