Metaphorically Speaking

A Different Perspective

2012-02-14T00:21:00.000-08:00

When I moved into this classroom where I am right now, I immediately noticed a blotch of paint on the side of the cubby holes for children. I looked at it and saw a face of a woman, a Native American woman for that matter.

I summoned my assistant to basked in my new discovery and she saw something else. She saw the black face of a demon lurking on the wall of this fixture. A different perspective on her part.

Later I asked another assistant to look at the picture and she came with no answer as she cannot see anything from this magnificent accident of art. I showed her the image but all she can say was ,"I don't see anything."

Life is how you see things. When times are tough, some would crumble and fall while some will rise and shine. When money is lacking, some will resort to evil ways while some will try to live simply. When we fail in love, some will see it as an experience learned while others will forever hate to accept love again.

Today is Valentine's Day but I see it not only as a special day for couples to celebrate their times together or their new found relationships. I also see this day as an opportune to show more of our caring nature to others and to tell the people we are close to, that we care and love them in return.

Though I failed plenty of times in matters of love, I simply refuse to stop from loving people around me. A Happy Valentine's Day to everyone and may the spirit of loving be with us always, in work and in our personal endeavours.

Generosity

2012-01-28T01:00:00.000-08:00

With my very busy schedule, which was my choice, I ended not taking care of my love on a consistent basis. I would still sweep the ground, trim the branches, and fill up some pots with dirt but that would be it. Ever morning, I am even in a rush to get on the bike to go to school without giving a glimpse of what goes into the garden.

Just this week, a student cancelled my class because he was sick and it gave me the time to not only walk and clean the garden but to see what’s different. An unruly climber had slithered up to my orange tree and bloomed flowers on top of it. Pink and reddish petals canopied the tree and it was a sight to see. I got some and placed them in a basket.

Another climber had blossoms a-plenty and these flowers come in three different stages. They start as small buds and white flowers, turning to red petals before becoming brownish paper like flowers. These climbers had been perennial favourites. I have them in front and at the back of the house.

I was also greeted by the pleasant aroma of this plant when I go back home in the early evenings. It has this wonderful scent that is easy to the nose and not overpowering that permeates the air only at night time. I am blessed for that these trees, whether they are the shorter or the tallest ones in my garden, unselfishly bear flowers year after year. I was told that if they grow higher than the house, I am truly lucky. And yes, two of them are.

As I let some plants grow wildly in one of my pebbled corners, the plants had been gathering in bunches and shooting up towards light. These plants bear the most yellow flowers that attract butterflies and flying insects all the time. The flower last only a day but it flowers all throughout the year. They compliment the other annuals and perennials.

My driver gave me a small air plant two years ago as a birthday present and blue and purple flowers had been sprouting since then. I showed them to him just this week and he told me that they seemed to be happy in my little paradise. It does, because my neighbours have some and I have never seen them bloom. The flowers are exquisite.

And lastly, one plant that was given to me many years ago had produced hundreds of plantlets and the matured plants have been sprouting shoots again. They are elongated stalks twisted like wires and with small buds at the uppermost ends. Soon the buds will burst into white flowers that will then blanket the side of the house with a show to remember.

The generosity of these plants and trees will forever be imprinted as I write their stories in my blog. Nature really wants us to remember their beauty and importance. Whether they make your place pretty, give you shade from heat and the wind, or plain green for the eyes, their existence is magnified not only by their contribution but also by their generosity to always give.

Lunar New Year

2012-01-23T00:19:00.000-08:00

Happy Lunar New Year to all!

The children made this wonderful dragon to welcome the year and it was mostly the girls in my class who made it. Fancy the eyelashes. Well, we celebrated the year with some lion dancing and made lot of noises as we walked around the school to get rid of bad elements and welcome the good ones. Yes, I am still there, coz I am not bad, just naughty.

Have a great year people!

Precious

2012-01-22T01:00:00.000-08:00

Nothing much transpired during this birthday of mine except for the usual SMS messages and Facebook notifications. The day went with no funfare and to my expectation, just another ordinary day, a day older and a reminder to move on.

I received a surprise though from a friend of mine two days ago. Since 2006, we have known each other and he helped me when I was hospitalized more than a year ago. We have been friends doing karaoke together, visiting temples and fairs, and eating out. For the first time, I received a present from him: a Ganesh pendant, an old coin, and a rare stone. For me they were of no value because I am not interested in anything superstitious or old. For him, they were his kept treasures. He spoke with great fervour explaining each of the divine items. I learned through the short conversation that the three items were from his collection, his possession, kept for their value, money and sentiment wise, and then offered to me as birthday presents.

My friend comes from an ordinary family who strives everyday to earn money for food and housing. By giving me something he had treasured dearly, the giving was not just a token for my birthday but a way of showing me that what he had was unselfishly given. There were no flowers, no fancy food, no parties or bowling galore but the three items handed to me means more than birthday gifts. They are tokens of a great friendship. Precious!

2012

2012-01-01T01:00:00.000-08:00

Welcome to a New Year!

As we finished off the year of financial difficulties and natural disasters, a new year unfolds so as to start picking up what's left, rebuilding lives and strengthening our faith.

May the year 2012 be a beacon of hope for all, a source of strength, and a life rich and prosperous.

Merry? Christmas

2011-12-30T01:00:00.000-08:00

It was Christmas day and everyone was ready to go to church. While we waited for our ride, my mom, whom I just spoke a few minutes ago, ended in a vegetable state. She wasn’t uttering anything, and whatever we asked her, she wasn’t responding. Her sugar level dropped to the 40’s and will surely needed some boost. My youngest brother decided to bring her to the hospital and off we went.

The emergency staff at the hospital was not the ones I would like to greet and meet. Formalities aside, their way of dealing with patients and family members was appalling. Guess I was making comparisons when I was rushed to the emergency room once in another hospital, in another country.

When my mom ended staying at the hospital for tests and recovery, the verdict was that Christmas was to be in the hospital. It was also my mom’s birthday so despite the greetings of birthday wishes and Christmas cheers, I was forlorn and grumpy. I didn’t plan on vacationing in a hospital for my winter break. This was just irrational, simply unacceptable.

When feeding time came, I was crying not because I was to spoon fed my mom but because I cannot look at her condition. Pity permeated the air. I rushed myself to the toilet to cry and wash up. I cannot be a nurse nor a doctor.

I was angrier than angry the next day when for the next 15 hours, I haven’t had anything to eat since I cannot leave my mom alone when for every fifteen to thirty minutes ,someone was there to ask something or to take notes. When I finally got food at noon time, I was grumpier than ever because I haven’t had enough sleep nor a decent one.

I went home and slept for four hours to recharge what there was to recharge. I went back to the hospital and my mom was a bit better. I was glad that she was doing well and that she was starting to speak intelligibly.

The day of my flight, I went to the hospital to say goodbye to my mom. I asked her to press my hand and she was able to do so. I cried because she was trying to be stronger than me. When the nurse later told me that she can be discharged, I was running from doctor to doctor to secure release by initially paying the bills first. I asked for my brother to come to pick us up. When everything was back to normal and I ended having a light snack, I went back to the cashier and found my other siblings in there. It was a good sight to behold since I haven’t seen the four of us together for a long time. It takes one emergency incident to make us gather as one. Pitiful but encouraging.

The experience woke me up as I was selfish all throughout. I care not for my mom but for myself and for my well being. I was envisioning a great vacation but ended being a nursing aide. I was being bad and a bad son at most. However, the moments I spent with my mom became our bonding moments. I tried in my own little ways to cheer her up and with the laughter and smiles that we exchanged through our hospital days; it was a well spent vacation. I have been away for many years and it was only that Christmas time that we spent the most time together. It wasn’t a merry one but it was Christ-filled with awakening, commitment, and love.

We Will Live!

2011-11-07T01:00:00.000-08:00

Considering the extent of destruction being wreck by the flood waters from the North, Thailand along with its brave citizens continuously brace what is happening and what is to happen. There are many things transpiring each day what with the tears, anguish, anger and surrendering wills. There are also stories of bravery and creative inputs, means to make the situation bearable to live, if not to survive.

The scarier sides of the flood waters does not just mean ruins in the lives of the people but also of properties and spirits. There are also news of crocodiles escaping legal and illegal farms as well as the recent rumours of fifteen green mamba snakes that escaped a pet owner's house. Diseases will become issues as well as means for clean and drinking water. The scarcity of food is also a big problem what with the hoarding and the jacked up prices.

The people had been creative as well as with the invention of plastic wraps for cars and floaters for cars and bicycles. Basins are often used as a means of transport with portable fans as motor engines. The emergence of EM balls or effective microorganism balls is thought to help clean up stagnant and murky water. Duck floats were invented to test electrical currents in water. Plastic bags are then used for storing potable water instead of big, plastic containers.

The scenario in Thailand is eerie as when I am so used to walking the streets and seeing people selling food and right now, it is just water all over. The merchants have on display life jackets, rubber boots and galvanized boats for sale. You see sand bags being sold on the streets and some specific places where you can purchase bottled water. Army trucks are everywhere transporting people from their inundated homes to safe camps. Boats have been the means of transportation for most.

For me, the exodus of people fleeing their homes is an unbearable sight. Children in floating basins tagged by their parents, teens and grown ups bearing suitcases and backpacks on their heads, garbage bags filled with vital and personal things pulled through the currents become ordinary scenarios of the city. The lost of properties is not much of an issue for material things can be replaced but the lost of lives is a different story.

As I sit down in horror watching news everyday and with the building anxiety in me, I cannot help but cry and be depressed with what is unfolding in the land I learned to love. My heart goes to all those who are suffering and this goes to everyone residing in Thailand.

We will live, we will be a great nation again!

For photos, please visit:

http://www.boston.com/bigpicture/2011/10/thailand_flood_reaches_bangkok.html

Being Validated

2011-11-05T01:00:00.000-07:00

When I was much younger, I always looked into rewards and this was the reason why I studied harder and made good grades. I wasn't into toys or new shoes or anything fancy. The reward I asked for is to be recognized, to be validated. I was, until I landed fourth in class one year and all the negative comments I heard made me stopped pursuing honours. I just studied, still passed with flying colours and even received a scholarship after university but made no effort to be rewarded.

When I started earning money, I reward myself by collecting books since they will be my companions as a teacher and my source of income as well when I do tutorials. I have a huge collection now ranging from award winners to books that are no longer being published. The parents of my students knew about my collection and there had been some years that I get additional books to add to my growing library or some gift certificates to purchase books I don't have and I am happy.

I had never craved for anything luxurious and whatever comes in my way, I received heartily. The best gifts I received were that of greetings and thank you cards and drawn pictures of my students. The most generous were longer letters validating my existence as a teacher and being a great mentor to their children. I have them all with me, kept safe.

I appreciate small things such as a phone call from a friend when I was about to be wheeled to the operating room. I cried when one of my best buddies baked me a special cake during my birthday. I was in tears when the children and parents of my class last year gave me a special book about "Me in the Eyes of the Children". I was fleeting in glee when someone acknowledged my presence and extended a smile. I am touched when a friend called to ask my whereabouts and condition during this great flood crisis in Thailand. These small things, I treasure.

I am grateful to my sister and aunt who had been in contact during these past weeks as well as with some friends and acquaintances who had shown their concerns. For me, it acts as a catalyst to further assure myself that someone out there is still my friend. I didn't ask for treasures because it will just make my journey a heavy one. What I bring will be treasured memories and encouraging words to validate that I am Jonathan, the only one.

Be Ready!

2011-10-29T23:07:00.000-07:00

My student told me a short story about a friend of her mom. That this woman took a photo of her and showed it to her friends and acquaintances. The photo was that of her standing in front of a stock full of water bottles that she bought right before and during the flood crisis. She remarked that she is now at peace because she will be able to survive amidst all these troubles.

I was appalled though thankful that my student told me this story not so I can have an entry but because it reminds me of how people will behave in times of panic. At this moment, shelves of convenience stores are all empty of bottled water, drinks, canned food and other dry goods. There are still cans and bottles of beer but I don't drink or maybe I should start drinking so that I can drown myself what with all these anxieties I am feeling.

There was ample supplies but when people started hoarding goods from groceries and shopping malls, nothing was left. I have a few bottles of water though I still use the water filter machine of mine to supply me with drinking water. I have some cookies, rice and eggs which apparently will last a long time since I am not an eater. I have saved enough water for bathing or washing as I heard the government will be rationing water supply next. I bet the woman I mentioned had saved enough water for her to bathe a lifetime.

My entry is about being ready not only during calamities but also in facing small troubles in life. I also hope to remind people that being ready means being at peace with oneself, having made merits, having done good deeds everyday, having a good heart, having graceful living and a life of immaterial things. For things around us will be washed away by the flood but our attitudes and beliefs toward surviving must be geared towards self realization that in this lifetime, we had been good if not better people.

Zen Speaks

2011-10-27T01:00:00.000-07:00

One of the great books I have in my collection, this award winning children's story about a bear named Stillwater is a must read. A Caldecott Honour Book, it tells about three life questions and stories answered through short Zen principles.

In the author's note, he mentioned that "Zen shorts" often challenge us to reexamine our habits, desires, concepts, and fears. The three stories Uncle Ry and the Moon, A Heavy Load, and The Farmer's Luck were chosen among many because they speak best to the youngest audience.

My favorite is the one of A Heavy Load:

Two travelling monks reached a town where there was a young woman waiting to step out of her sedan chair. The rains had made puddles and she couldn't step across without spoiling her silken robes. She stood there, looking very cross and impatient. She was scolding her attendants. They had nowhere to place the packages they held for her, so they couldn't help her across the puddle.

The younger monk noticed the woman, said nothing, and walked by. The older monk quickly picked her up and put her on his back, transported her across the water, and put her down on the other side. She didn't thank the older monk, she just shoved him out of the way and departed.

As they continued on their way, the young monk was brooding and preoccupied. After several hours, unable to hold his silence, he spoke out. "That woman back there was very selfish and rude, but you picked her up on your back and carried her! Then she didn't even thank you!"

"I set the woman down hours ago," the older monk replied. "Why are you still carrying her?"

When I am cross about some things, I have a tendency to bring it everywhere and this is not a good thing. There are also some issues I carry till now that happened decades ago. I need to let go and be more forgiving and learn to forget. I am sharing this short story not for me to bring a change in my perspective and yours in a matter of five minutes but as a reminder that there should be a needed change in our hearts.

We should learn to forgive and be more giving. We should learn to support and be more active. With all the worldly affairs and misfortunes, be ready to admit our love, our fears, our sorrows and joys, and our misgivings now so that we won't be late in receiving forgiveness as well as love and in feeling the generous joy when we live in peace.

To My Niece

2011-10-21T01:00:00.000-07:00

Dear Coleen,

First of all, I am sending my birthday wishes to you through this blog. Happy birthday my dear and hope you'll enjoy your party later. I am so sorry that I couldn't be there because of the flood situation in here. I will make sure I'll bring along a present this Christmas.

I have been away for many years. I left a month before your mom and dad got married. I had to take a leave of absence to attend the ceremony after a month. I was there when we sent your mom to the hospital and gave birth to one bright and sweet child and that's you. But I have not been a part of your growing years not because of the distance but because I was also occupied with work, studies and other personal affairs. I get to see you every year but our relationship is marred by silence and with the usual simple hellos. I regret not playing a big part of your growing though it is the same with the rest of my nephews and another niece. I apologize.

What made you special was when you visited me here with your family. It was bonding time and for a very short visit, your presence along with your family made me special knowing I am recognized as a big part of the family, still. I will never forget my reaction and your parent's faces when they got off a samlor (three wheeled vehicle) the last night you were all here. I cried when I read the thank you card you all wrote to me when I went back home after sending you to the airport. And when I woke up the next day, the eerie silence in the house and with no smell of coffee or breakfast made me sad.

You are indeed blessed by a wonderful dad and a hard working mom along with a super duper "kulit" brother. And as you celebrate your 18th birthday with them and with your closest relatives and friends, may you realize that we all love you. Be the best you can and show the world how great you are as a person.

With love,
Uncle Jonathan

Son Klasuek, One Among Millions

2011-10-20T22:08:00.000-07:00

I was reading a very short article about a man named Son Klasuek, who is in his late seventies, has been planting trees in his neighbourhood in Chaiyaphum ( a province of Thailand). His effort was recognized in 1997 when at that time, he planted an estimated 20,000 trees. He received his highest honour when the Majesty the Queen gave him a decorative golden pin in recognition of his one-man effort in reforestation.

With the present crisis Thailand is facing, flood, I was wondering if most of us had started years ago in doing what Khun Son started in his younger years. I always think that I do my part by planting numerous trees in my yard. That I don't just beautify my surroundings to strengthen my spirit to live, but that I also care for the land I am in.

I am not saying that planting will support the excess water thus preventing spillage when there's an excess. I am not saying that trees will suffice in the stoppage of water flow. I am merely saying that thinking way ahead and doing something about it makes a big difference now.

Khun Son gave his bit to Mother Earth unselfishly and without thinking of any material rewards. Most destroyed their environment to profit while others simply do not care. No pointing fingers here but a realization that each and one of us has a part in helping take care of the only earth we live in. What is your contribution?

The State of the Nation

2011-10-18T00:05:00.000-07:00

taken from - monstersandcritics .com

It hasbeen stressful on the part of everyone especially for those living in low-lyingareas as the flood continue to submerge houses and industrial estates. As thewater surges through roads and streets, dikes are now appearing in everycrevices and main thoroughfares so as to halt the flow of water.

Yetwith the rain and high tide, the people have nothing but cries of despair andhopes for the trouble to stop. It is grueling to see many inundated places andpersonal things ruined. But the most saddening is the fact that a lot of moneyis lost from the damages done by the deluge. People lost their homes, theirjobs, their workplaces and even their friends.

Thedifferences of political opinions have settled for a moment brought by thecalamity and wishing that whoever is red and whoever is yellow (political affiliations) will just beremnants of colours and not political separation and anxiety. Thais need towork together to solve this massive problem of loss, death, and destruction. Itis in these times that I have witnessed how people, though scared for theunexpected, have set aside their differences with one common goal, to help eachother.

Thailandis my home so my heart goes to all those who have been affected harshly byMother’s Nature fury. This is just the beginning though as devastation of allsorts has been circulating amongst sms, e-mail messages, and stories. I amscared as well. I am just hoping that whether we succeed in managing the dikesor not, the spirits of the Thai people remain resilient and hopeful.

Longing to Escape

2011-10-13T01:09:00.000-07:00

I envy the people I see around the gym not of their beautiful and toned bodies (not all have them though) but the dedication they put in lifting those heavy weights and doing those difficult exercises. I am not that determined yet I make it a point to be there during my training sessions.

When I eat in a restaurant or an eatery, I am amused as what I see with people chatting alongside each other and obviously enjoying each other's company. I am interested in knowing their inner minds so that I could in a little way be connected with the joyous faces they had shown. I basked in their smiles while telling myself that some people are jusy plain lucky.

Then I reflect about my own life when I go to bed and wishfully thinking that I am happy, contented, and free from troubles of life and love. I dream of happy endings and worry free days.

For lately, each day reminds me of my superficial goals in life. Bunched up and seen as luscious, my goals though feasible, seems flimsy and having no direction. Just going to school, surviving each and every day; making use of my time to let the days pass, or simply letting opportunities be wasted. When some people sees my entirety as enviable, they do not know that inside is a longing to escape.

One acquaintance pointed out how lucky I am to have a stable job and a healthy body. I acknowledged that but it just seems that it is only one side of the coin. For they do not see what is inside, a feeling so heavy that eventually in my everyday movement and meetings with people, it will just come out. I needed a break, an escape, and maybe just to free myself from this not-so-good feeling.

Like a Shower

2011-10-09T00:46:00.000-07:00

Most in life we meet tribulations and they come in three folds. When we are hopeful that one will pass, another one comes up when we haven't been able to solve the first. So when we pray hard and wait for a better view of life, we are not sure of what we will get. Our expectations of getting out of the rut becomes stuck. So we do things that we think is the best: we shrug them off or we cling to them.

I met people whose problems had surpassed their patience and hope. I helped in my own little and big ways people who were suffering with their health or with some of their basic needs. I empathized well to those needing a listening ear and left them with a much lighter load.

This time of the year, I am the one in need but I keep them all inside me. I am quiet and in my silence, my whole self is like an erosion of my being as I battle major and minor issues both personal and work related. I suffer as I keep all my thoughts deep inside. I cannot cry anymore even if anger is wrapping up my heart. I feel alone.

I guess people have their own problems and they seek solutions in many different ways. I am just like you. I complain when things get tough or when things are not met with gratitude. Our long dreary road of serving, helping, taking time offs, and loving others are met with obscurities and neglect. So we look for outlets to find ourselves safe again.

This beautiful tree that hangs around my garden reminds me of a shower. As a shower of conflicts can ruin my months or year, I still have faith and hoping that a shower of blessings will come forth soon and make me smile again.

World Teacher's Day 2011

2011-10-05T23:31:00.000-07:00

Seems like yesterday when I started

yet the smiles are still there.

Seems like yesterday when I learned

and the yearnings still abound.

Seems like yesterday when I realized

though I haven't change a single bit.

Seems like yesterday when I vowed

to grow wise and great.

When the parents of my former class decided to set up a party, I received a cake designed with children around me playing the piano. This is what they see every morning as I do my circle time with music. So the impression I leave the parents is one of me that is musical, happy, and vibrant.

For the hundred of students both classroom and tutorials, I thank you for making me if not great, but one good teacher. For the parents who always believe, I salute you for your good words and appreciation. For the very few schools I worked with, my gratitude for the chances and for letting me grow as a person. For the teachers I've met from all over the globe, I share this day with all of you. Cheers to everyone!

A Reminder

2011-09-10T00:30:00.000-07:00

It's been awhile and I am not even on a hiatus mode, I am just extremely busy. The school year started and what a start: the class composition, the teaching loads, the additional meetings and travelling, and some other personal issues. To sum up my feelings: I am exhausted, everyday.

It has been four weeks and I had heard many good remarks from new and old parents of my students. I was extremely happy when I received one last week saying they are lucky to have me as their son's teacher (knowing the history of the child's previous schooling). After majority of the parent teacher meetings were finished, the remarks become consolation to my weary body and soul.

I happened to clean up the cupboard and came upon a card given to my former principal some years ago (I was given a photo copy). After reading it, it reminded me of my goal as a teacher and moreso of the person that I am. Allow me to share it:

Dear RM,

Welcome back! I trust that your trip to the US was fruitful- as hectic as it must have been. I am sure you have many stories to share and much good news concerning the school!

I wanted to let you know how very pleased we have been with our first summer at RMA. Teacher Jonathan is truly a gem - I am so thrilled he will be returning. I am sure I speak for the other moms in my desire to have him as our 3 day teacher...but I know that you will make the best decision knowing our needs and desires. Whatever your final decision, I think you should know what a marvelous teacher we think he is. Jonathan is creative, musical, challenging and works with a wonderful combination of tenderness and order. His systematic approach allows the children to learn in a comforting and predictable environment. Indeed, you have good teachers RM!

I am so looking forward to our involvement in your school. I hope to be a support and encouragement to you.

God bless, A.B.

So now that I am looking for ways to liven up my spirits, the card came in handy as a reminder of how I should be everyday. It is a needed inspiration, a reminder of why I chose to be a teacher.

My Summer Visit

2011-08-04T22:10:00.000-07:00

I left worried and in distress as to what I will see and hear. The stories were in different details, told by different people and interpreted in many different ways. To make things clear, I have to hear them straight from the people involved and I did. I became a master weaver as I put the minute details one by one as to create a big picture of what is happening and where we are going. There is a pressing problem.

With all the stress, I was invited by relatives and friends in many places, posh to be exact. I walked the grounds of McKinley Hills and Eastwalk for lunch, Serendra for merienda, Ayala Triangle and Baywalk for dinner, World Resort for window shopping and Bonifacio High Street for some toys. I attended a small gathering among friends in a Shanghai themed restaurant, a birthday celebration at Kimpura in Greenbelt, a church service at the Chapel of St. Pio, some Starbucks' visits and local eateries to mention a few. I am grateful for the invites and the treats and I appreciate all the generosity of my friends and relatives.

With all the stress, I see my brothers and sister work out as one. We may have our differences but we are doing what closest kins should do, cooperate. I see and appreciate the help extended by my sisters in law plus the warm suggestions of one of our trusted helpers. I am silent to their growing animosity towards my father but hoping that all will be well in the end. The tension is mounting through time but alas, our common goal will be met, and that is, to get out of this rubble.

I was on the plane yesterday and for the first time in my life, I cried and cried on board. I remembered my mom whom I gave a tight embrace the night before. She was sobbing profusely saying, "Do not abandon me, do not abandon me." It was also the first time we gave our farewells with such emotions that I am crying while writing this entry.

You never read this mom but with all sincerity, I am not abandoning anyone, I am making a life to be with all of you again in the future. You are my family, including my closest friends, and that I will go back home saying, "I am here to stay."

(Special thanks to the following people: my SSHS friends, the Ku family, the Co family, the Gonzales couple, Mel, and my CCP friends)

Fallen

2011-08-02T13:00:00.000-07:00

"They're so pretty.", remarked one child as one day we gazed up and found those rose apples hanging like bells from the sky. There were also some showers of petals as each and every bloom starts to grow as fruit.

"They're rotten inside." cried one of the assistants in school when she let some children try to cut open a fallen rose apple. She was right indeed.

"What a beauty!" as I gasped at the scene unfolded to me when I was in a hurry to go back home for my next teaching job. The rose apples were taken off the tree, falling in clusters, hitting the hard floor and ending up on the ground lifeless and unappreciated. Yet, the spread in front of me was something to behold. I found it to be interesting, more of an artwork, laid before me like an installation of life and its destiny. I grabbed my camera and took a last shot of what was to be swept and thrown away.

Sometimes when we walk through the streets and see the sad plight of the poor begging for alms, I recognize their will to survive. When the garbage truck passes by the school or my house in the mornings, I took their labour as a show of strength amidst the foul smell. When I watch one child fall or cry for being hurt, I see it as a learning experience for that person. When I am beset with problems, money or work related, I cry to relieve myself of the stress and let myself stand up again.

There will always be something to see in others and there are always good things to appreciate. Though I may not be as good as others, I try my best to be one. I am a rose apple and I am not perfect. Whatever that makes me less is not a sign of weakness. It is the fuel that makes me better.

A rotten rose apple cannot be eaten, but some can be saved. A loser cannot always win but he can have chances. A poor man cannot be rich overnight but he can strive. A lost soul cannot see the light but he can be guided. And for me who is always broken, there will always be healing.

A Shower of Blessings

2011-07-30T01:00:00.000-07:00

God forgives me for making comparisons but I will. As I strive through day by day, I cannot help but see others and say to myself, "Why me? or Why am I not like them?" I have a habit of sitting and sipping tea in a cafe while watching the people pass by. There have been moments that I am a bucket of many emotions: anger, jealousy, happiness, regrets, and others. I find it normal but I wanted to look for answers, not just question myself everyday.

When I meet people (which is very rare), I make it a point to learn something good from our little conversations or probably our silence. I try to see the goodness of each while shutting myself when the bad things become visible. I see the candid laughter rather than the loud sound it makes. I see the gracious smiles rather than the shape of the lips. I wanted to see myself when I am with people.

A rich man will always be a possibility for envy as well as a good looking one. Such blessings that were not showered to me when I was trying to catch the rain. I got the cold instead, figuratively speaking. When I see achievements in its greatest honour, I feel envy and wishing that I have such enormous talent to also gather the same recognition. When I visited my friend once, I cried through the travel back to the airport not because I will be missing him but because I have seen his growing friendship and pure joy in his new found relationship.

But of course I am not always the bitter one because I also try to open my eyes not for me to see, but for me to be aware of what I have and in what I can give. I cannot give much and I don't have much as well but in my little ways, I do feel an importance within my being. Maybe I am not born to be great, and I believe I am not born to be a mediocre. I am but ordinary but special in some people's eyes. Maybe it's just human nature to make comparisons as what we don't have. For waking up each day, I should always make it a mantra that the sunshine might not bring showers but the blessings of each breathe count most, living and being.

The Candy Making Machine

2011-07-26T01:00:00.000-07:00

We started with a blank canvas and then some questions.
What do we draw? What do we add?

A circle perhaps, how about a square?
A face, some teeth, a hand or a heart?

I'll draw a line. I'll make it straight.
How about a zig zag? A loop or a curve?

Ah so many lines and different shapes
Put them together, a story is made.

Let's put some colours: red, orange, yellow.
I want some blue! I want some black!

Now let's look at the canvas.
It looks like a machine.
A marvelous, wonderful, candy making machine!

In The Eyes of the Children

2011-07-22T01:00:00.000-07:00

Every morning is what we call our circle time where we all sit down, do some clapping patterns and sing our greeting and other songs. Most of the time, there are songs for singing and songs for dancing and the latter is the favourite of all.

During the last school year's Art Auction day, the children wanted to sing some songs to their parents so I invited them all to come. Most of the moms, including dads (which is a rarity in school events), came. The presentation was meant for parents to watch but I planned something more of a participatory show rather than just being there. I created a special programme where the children starts with a song or two and then asking their parents to sing and dance with them later. The half an hour gathering was a blast. It was also hilarious to see some children doing silly antics creating a roar of laughter within the classroom.

Come the end of the year Celebration of Learning where the same programme was rendered but this time, on an hour basis. Everyone was there including the presence of a grandma who was visiting from Armenia. The show started with some serious stuff such as playing of rhythm instruments to the beat of the song Toembai, to the hand performance of You Are My Sunshine, and some other songs. Later on, the parents were then asked to dance to the music of Here We Come a Walkin and Ha Ha This A Way. Then, some games where the children and their moms and dads showed camaraderie, sportsmanship and candor. There was one instance that the dads were standing with me on the benches and dancing to the beat of Move It from Madagascar. It didn't last for an hour, it even went beyond dismissal time. It was beyond comparison. It was so much fun!

The cake you see was an impression of how I am in the eyes of the parents and the children. It was specially made as a farewell and thank you cake for a whole year of fun and learning. When I was presented a book made by the children themselves, I cried. And when I shared my feelings of the past school year, the room was filled with tears.

Moments like these should be blogged. It will remain a part of my heart and growth as a person. To the twelve loving families who gave me their trust and love, thank you as well!

Thank you to Aino (Finland), Alex (Armenia), Andrea (Denmark), Caleb (New Zealand), Deena (Thailand), Elena (Belgium/Vietnam), Franco (USA), Isi (Chile), Keanu (USA), Kristine (USA), Lukas (USA), and Teppan (Thailand). I will miss you all!

To Take Care

2011-07-18T01:00:00.000-07:00

Brought and hanged against my classroom window was this beautiful hanging plant with purplish flowers. The view from the inside was pleasant and more appealing from the outside. However, a bet ensued among my assistant and I as to how long this plant will last. Two weeks, three or four maximum and we were both right. The plant died after a few weeks. The culprit was the lack of sunshine and care during the weekends.

I practically live in a forest like surrounding as the plants and trees had outgrown their pots and been climbing each other for some time. The rain helped me nurtured their growth and during these past weeks I had been trimming, repotting and transferring them in various places. Just like the hanging plant in school, the care I should be giving to my plants at home should not be limited during my free time, or my summer vacation. Since I opted for a garden, I should be responsible for its clean and healthy environment.

I had taken for granted people in my life. First will be my parents who are far away from me. I never talk to them nor hear anything from them. I see them twice or thrice only in a year. I stopped making connections with former friends whom I've met in school or from the universities I attended. I lost contact and made no effort to chat with them. I lost some of the best friends I considered closest to me. It was my busy life, my intention to be alone and my selfish reason to live without reaching out.

The people around me, from before and now, are like the plants I have around the garden. Some thrived in solitary confinements while others did not managed the silent treatment. I should not give them lukewarm relationships nor put them aside. I should manage my time, exert some effort and try to reach out. I am learning my lessons from what's surrounding me. I am learning it late but a realization is making me aware that I am as a person cannot be, all by myself.

Summer Artworks

2011-07-15T01:00:00.000-07:00

The Great Kapok Tree

Camouflage

Jungle

Summer class is over and after four weeks, the children produced three great artworks focusing on the colours and sights of the jungle. The artworks were primarily done in natural paper, recycled paper and acrylic while the techniques used were that of paper tearing, collage and dabbing. Enjoy!

The Rock

2011-07-13T01:00:00.000-07:00

People are like rocks, battling heavy rains and strong winds in their lifetime. And in the course of living, pieces of rocks tumble down or are chipped off by the elements of both time and weather. The changes give us an appearance and a personality of our own. Later in life, we stand firmly on the ground with our own ambitions and dreams.

In my case, the rock in me started 24 years ago when I decided to become an educator. Just one solid piece, layers and layers of experiences and knowledge created what's in me. The long time formation found a solid ground to light ways and serve as a beacon to many. With layering comes the chipping off of bad habits and lazy endeavours. Doing away with unnecessary actions compliment what of goodness I bring in my vocation. The voice in me is created by the apparent build-up and shaping done by years of teaching young children.

It was the hugging of three young children that made an impact in my choosing to be an educator. It was then the encourgement of colleagues and parents that made me pursue education further. It was my overseas stint that made me believe in my talent. It was the people I'd met from all over the world that gave me the strength to continue this path. It was the children I'd taught that gave me inspirations every now and then.

So what is there for this year? A better person. The rock that was submerged deep down into the ocean floor was then raised up to be carved by the best carvers in town. The shape and the contour are all chiseled in but it is now being polished to perfection. My only wish is that I will continue to see the seeds of goodness I planted to my children. I love them all!

We Don't Teach These Things

2011-07-10T01:00:00.000-07:00

Of course, there will be always the words children utter ....

Franco: "I have a new word for you, "Buggerbutt!"

Aiden: "If I sit on it (referring to a drum stick), it will poke my ass crack!"

Sojo: (speaking loudly) "We should never use the words dumb, stupid and idiot in class, isn't it T. Jonathan?"

Kristine: "MOVE AWAY!
T. Jonathan: "Be polite please."
Kristine: "MOVE AWAY PLEASE!"

Teacher: Good Morning Liya.
(Liya ignores teacher.)
Teacher: Good Morning Liya.
(Liya seems unperturbed.)
Teacher: Liya, when someone says good morning, what do you say?
Liya: NOTHING!

Gone

2011-07-06T01:00:00.000-07:00

There was a time when love has been so graciously given. Simple days bearing gifts, ordinary dealings serving special treats, and out of occasions"s sweet exchanges. That was many years ago and as time takes a toil to test the chains of endearment, so does the people involve changes.

It must be the long years of knowing each other so much that hindered the growth of a promising relationship. It must be the trials faced through the times that gapped communication. It must be the constant asking for support that finally snapped the thread of connection and trust.

For life isn't all giving. While giving is divine, there should be limits set before everything is out of control. But this does not materialized because fear is on the way. The fear of being physically hurt and the fear of being scarred through ill refute, the spread of false news. So even if the rope is almost at the end, the giving never stops.

So love is now gone as it is now transformed in fear. The once happy get togethers become massive mishaps and then silent treatments. Voices are raised, eyes darting with fiery while unpleasant words are exchanged. It is no longer healthy. It is going towards hostility.

A relationship that borders on miscommunication or no communication at all brings not just anger and resentment but also failure and future quarrels. A relationship that generates no good energy simply must be shut off. And to say this, is easier said than done. The promises made are no longer the basis to continue loving. The loving is gone, long gone. Though fear permeates, the only fire within is the will to survive and the hope to be free from this bondage.

(Just an emo post)

A Year End Thank You Note

2011-07-01T01:00:00.000-07:00

The school year ended and summing it up in a few words isn't enough to express the challenges and joys of teaching. However after ten months of schooling and everyone need to say their goodbyes, I then realized that another batch of students are leaving armed with everything I taught them: resilience, responsibility and readiness.

Here's one thank you note most worthy to blog.

Teacher Jonathan,

My husband and I are so happy that Keanu had the experience of having you as a teacher. It is difficult to put into words the respect we have for you and your teaching skills. Not only did you challenge, motivate and inspire Keanu by opening his mind to many ideas, you also showed great compassion in addressing his sensitivity and emotional needs. You make it easy for kids to love learning and that is to be commended. Keanu loved you and your class from the start and never once became bored. All the parents and children adore you and that speak volumes. We shall miss your kindness, your attentiveness, and your passion for making our children better people.

Thank you... A

P.S. You once told me it was an accident that you became a teacher, but I think it was divine intervention for you were surely meant to teach!

What If?

2011-06-25T01:00:00.000-07:00

What if... a question I posed every now and then especially when I am reflecting on things before bedtime. Thinking of having the opportunity to take another fork of the road, then I could be something else.

What if I did take a science course and finished a medical degree? It was my first choice of all the professions I knew from before. What if I continued to Religious Studies and became a priest afterwards? The possibility was there since I am a Philosophy and Oriental Religions major. What if I pursued a doctoral degree in Education? Though I am already tired of running from school to university to home, and then studying till late at night. These are the what ifs of my life. As I do not know what could be there for me upon taking another course of action, these became questions as to whether I will be more successful and happier in any of these mentioned careers.

As a medical practitioner, I could been driving a car now and running back and forth to appointments. I could be assisting missions and working for doctors without borders. As a priest, I could be quietly sitting down and meditating in a small church upcountry. Or I could be the change that the country need in order to make proposals to population issues and religious challenges. As a doctor of philosophy, I could be lecturing to professors and would be teachers in a university at this time. Also, I could be instrumental in the way educational reforms should be made to better the system.

Since I won't be going back to school, I then remain as a regular educator. An educator whose humble existence is just a minuscule compared to the outside world. Yet I still make a point to be different through my own effort: helpful (just like the doctors), mindful (just like what priests practise), and conscientious (just like what all educators should be).Lastly, I basked myself not in material wealth but in knowledge, love and patience.

Kudos to all educators!

Growing Moss

2011-06-20T06:51:00.000-07:00

Time is our friend or enemy, depends on how you see life. When we were young, we always asked ourselves when will we be older so we could drive a car, party day and night, or have sleepovers with our friends. But as we grow older, we wish we have been younger so we could do what we failed to accomplish, and sometimes, regrets are formed.

But no matter what we do in life, we should always be mindful of where we stand and where we go. When I was young, I cannot understand why I was always asked to do housework when I was busy doing my homework in sets of three different languages. I didn't have any time to play. When I was older, I was given a responsibility to manage a shop alongside my sister and we were busy buddies. I had to be home on time, given no chance to wander around town, so I could help in our business. The business didn't thrive in terms of profit but I learned a great deal.

My dad took his time to instill in me the value of work and the value of time. Work is not just physical labour, but work is something that will make me a better person. The work I did before became cornerstones of my growth as a person: being responsible, industrious and resourceful. The time I spent manning the business were well-spent time as I learned to be busy in a good way. The time I gave to honour my job became the foundation of how I value what was given to me; being punctual and giving importance to the now, the present.

Right now, the moss gathered from my formative years had been with me as I am conscientious of what I do. I am proud of what I earned in terms of knowledge. I am humbled by the experience of learning the trade early and applying them in later years. I am wary of the importance of seconds and minutes in an hour. I am made to go forward rather than retreat and be lazy.

So when I reminisce old days, I should not be pointing fingers to my dad for being selfish and taking away my childhood. I should be thankful, if not with all those hardships, I won't be strong enough to face my life on my own. I learned early and by doing so, I reaped my labour as well.

Happy Father's Day!

Cinderella, a Ballet

2011-06-01T06:07:00.000-07:00

I have had the opportunity to be invited to attend a dance recital by one of my former students in class. She is four years old and has been taking ballet lessons with a dance studio called Rising Star. I accepted the invitation and was very glad to have seen the show.

The show was indeed splendid what with all 250 participants including some of the teachers dancing to the story of the all time classic Cinderella. Yuko Nakamura who played the lead role was a beauty to behold, not just physically but also with her graceful dancing and stand as a ballerina. I thoroughly enjoyed the presence of the fairies where they danced so well that there was no room for critique. Not that I will but it was so joyous I was smiling with their turns and bows.

My darling Kristine came as one of the bluebirds and she made me so proud. She wasn't the same Kristine I knew because she was very attentive and in sync. Dancing must be her first love as she performed so well that afternoon. Her parents must be equally proud of her for her splendid performance.

I thank Kristine and her family for a wonderful school year and for showing me growth and confidence in action. I am proud of her, as much as I am proud of each and every individual who attended my classes be it in music, drama, or in academics. Best of all, teachers collect their rewards not through monetary terms but through the love they give back as a token of their appreciation. I wish her and her family the best as they move back to the States. I will miss you Kristine!

My Home

2011-05-18T01:00:00.000-07:00

One of my beloved song is taken from the musical The Wiz and it talks about the desire of Dorothy to go back home. Clicking the heels of her shoes, she started singing the song "Home".

When I find myself sad, I often reminisce the happy days of being home, of chit chatting with my parents, of my short mall visits and eating outs with my siblings. After a day's gone, I retreat to my place which had been my "special" home.

My living room is a room filled with great memorabilia and presents from all over the world. Gathered from my few travels but collected mostly as presents from friends and students, the living room becomes a literal example of a living museum. Paintings from Vietnam, India, France and the Netherlands adorn the walls while trinkets and decors from Nepal, Myanmar and the Philippines are some of the many that grace the walls and shelves.

The bedroom facade has been a rather unused space that I then decided to use for meditation as the light itself gives an amber glow to the altar that guards the entrances. During Christmas season, three metal trees are displayed that reminds me of the shining beacon of hope and grace.

The main bedroom is typical Asian in design. The custom built bed is according to my specifications. The Indian wall hanger is a reminder of my friends' visit to Thailand while the beautiful handwoven bed cover gives out colours to the rather subdued hue of the furniture. A small painting done by a French artist friend and a native lamp given by friends from Thailand are displayed on a side table.

The smaller bedroom is decorated with things Chinese and most prominent are two paper cuts from my travels to Inner Mongolia and Mainland China. The Ikea lamp is a gift from a good friend in Malaysia and one non-working clock is a small gift I got for representing a group of children and winning a dance competition. The bed is covered with a golden silk cloth typical of wealthy houses in olden Thailand.

My small but memory filled home is a shining reminder of my life as a teacher, as a friend, as a student and as a hard-working individual. To take them away simply means taking away the purpose of my existence. Though very material, they are the living reminder of what I was and what I became of.

Insecurities

2011-05-15T01:00:00.000-07:00

Insecurities are part of growing. We could be out of it after a while or it could grow to be part of us. Insecurities come in many shapes. It could be mental, physical, emotional, or social. It could be gradual, sudden, or just lurking behind waiting to surface.

I am insecure in many things. The cause could be anything I didn't get when I was growing or something I didn't inherit from good genes. The cause might be triggered by something small or something great. It might had happened suddenly or I stumbled upon it in layers.

I don't consider myself good looking which is not really a big deal because I am not a ramp model. I starred in some stage productions but it was pure talent that brought me to the limelight. I was praised for my acting, serious or funny, and that was enough to bring accolades to my ears. I acted as an emcee in various events yet it wasn't the beauty of the face that I gave as a collateral but the persona in me, the ability to face a crowd and be natural.

I don't consider myself a genius which is not a problem because I don't intend be labelled nerdy (which I was tagged when I was in high school) or be a social outcast. In my years of study, I managed to be in the honour roll and consider myself bright when I finished three different areas of studies with flying colours. I was often asked by my professors to double a task when everyone were just given one. When they do a chapter of a book, mine was the entirety of the reading material. I was always challenged for they put their faith on me. They recognized my potentials and I did my job well.

The insecurity I feel stems up from the outside world, the harsh reality of being brown. It's about colour and the demeaning comments upon my race rather than what I can bring to the table. I may not talk with a native English twang (of which I could easily do) or in convoluted sentences with unfamiliar words. I simply speak clear and deliver a well-caring attitude towards my vocation as a teacher. I am not presenting a colour but rather a person, a great teacher, a well-rounded individual. As one of the parents said, "I see not your colour but you as a teacher, a wonderful one indeed!"

Insecurities eat us up and destroy us, only if you let it ruin your day or your life. Rising from the battered words of unbelievers; I, on my own terms, show the opposite of what they throw to me. I give them high spirits. Lifting myself from the battleground of unnecessary comments, I even fight through, and show my unwavering faith to myself. Then as insecurities die down, or laid upon the corners, a new day unfolds. Just as the heavy rain battered the morning with thunder and lightning, it will come to a stop, and then a day begins anew.

So believe and live a beautiful life.

My Former School, A Revisit 2

2011-05-10T01:00:00.000-07:00

Through the years. I had ups and downs in this school ranging from misunderstandings, jealousy, rumours, hatred as well as friendships, support, and lots of encouragement. Every year was different. My greatest fans were the Finnish people as they believed in what I could do.

While working in this school, I was approached by a lady/owner of another preschool and she asked me if I would be interested to help her set up a new school right where my school was located. It was a good offer but my loyalty and dedication to my school lingered and I just couldn't leave and betray (in a way), my former principal who placed her faith on me.

The last year. I was approached by a couple from the States and questioned my loyalty to the school and as to what were the reasons I stayed for so long. It was a long list. The people at my school were so good to me but it was a matter of learning new things. Though I listened to the couple, it was my decision to leave and start anew in another preschool. I gave my resignation with a heavy heart and bade farewell to the people who stood with me for almost ten years. It was heartbreaking!

Wrapping up. RMA made me a person and all the years I stayed in there were never to be thought of as regrets. They were priceless memories and constant growth. The experience gave me a chance to prove myself as a great educator while also making myself humble as to my beginnings. I will never forget the people of RMA ( Rosemarie, Wanchai, Chalida, Wisa, Chada, May, Lourdes, and others) as I owe them a lot.

Fond memories.

"We saw you as a teacher and not from your colour." - the Reck's

"I didn't believe you at first but now I promised my son to give you a hug for being the best teacher for him." - the Espo's

"Ask for Jonathan, he is the best in that school." - the Baade's

"Thank you for being a great teacher to my son." - the Agathageledis'

"My son will miss you so much." - the Panichnantakul's

"I don't know how you did it but my daughter is just so different in a very positive way." - the Vansumsen's

"We like you to teach all of our children." - the Kitcharoenwong's

"My child just talk about you, all the time!" - the Pitts'

"My daughter will always remember you for teaching her how to write her name." - the Kaga's

Steps

2011-05-08T01:00:00.000-07:00

First little steps
as we hold on
with little grips of fingers
on your smooth caring hand.

Then moving on
to fall or not
determined to walk
on our own

Those tiny steps
became big ones
from walking off to run
but still off balance

Steady steps became
more of a stride
just with watchful eyes
no arms to longer catch

As we grow, we move
we decide, we took flight
our little steps no more
on our own we fly

We fall, we rise
we stood unabated
we searched, we found
our steps then mastered

With these steps
there will always be
someone walking along side
our destiny

Her hands to hold
when we started our steps
Now her hands to hold
for showing us the way.

To my mom and with
each step of my way
I simply am grateful
for what I am today.

past tenses

2011-05-04T01:00:00.000-07:00

zest in life ended

when tribulations emerged

the will to live ceased

the smile withered

worry and stress shouldered

thy heavy load carried

of lost and death faced

hopes all shattered

thy life so soon belittled

nothing becomes highlighted

to thy being attached

meaningless air breathed

aplenty of tears cried

some brave courage mustered

pieces of hope picked

spirits in a way renewed

the time I long waited

to give thy life blessed

of heaven glorified

of spoken voice listened.

My Former School, A Revisit

2011-05-02T01:00:00.000-07:00

This May, I am writing history so as to remember things that happened in the past. Later in life, I will be going back to read them as a reminder of myself as a teacher.

At RMA -

The beginning. I was offered to start up a small preschool in a village which has a good concentration of expat children. It was tough as the school building was a townhouse that was rented for school's purpose. I started with three preschool aged children from different countries: America (Kyla), Brunei (Jeff), and Hong Kong (Wai Ming). They were of different ages. I was assisted by a Vietnamese-American named Margaret and sometimes her two wonderful children would join in my class. Later, I got two brothers from Switzerland (Lukas and Jan). During the start of the second term, I got two more students from Korea (Min Jee and Tewook), one from Switzerland (Shane), and another one from Japan (Keiko). I was then dutifully assisted by a Canadian (Marie R.) and an American (Debbie S.).

It was a great beginning considering that the school's premises were limited. I fondly remember even meeting the children and their moms after school at the pool of the apartment where I resided. In the afternoon, we gathered together and I taught some of them to swim and we played a lot. It was bonding time for a whole year. It was a wonderful experience.

Growing within the years. Then we moved to a bigger place where the Child Centre as it is now called grew into seven different classrooms. I remembered being the head where we had an enrollment of 120 preschool children with a staff of 19 adults. It was an experience I would not forget. Being a head entailed responsibilities and they were maddening. The experience though made me a better leader and took me to new heights until I begged off when I pursued further studies.

The enrollment dwindled through the years but I still had the most number of students in class, always full as in every year. During my last post, I was assisted by a Filipino (Aida) who became the lead teacher when I left the school for good. My almost ten years stay at that school had been treasure trove of memories, experiences, hardships and glory. My growth as a person went full cycle as I learned the rudiments of administration, the struggles of a beginning teacher, the success of an experienced teacher, and the emotional strength I had to build throughout the journey.

Forsake Not

2011-04-30T01:00:00.000-07:00

I will not forsake thee

though time had been our foe

it was time that patched the sore

of lost souls all wanting

to go back to its beginning

a start with joyous sparks

lighted with candid galore

but mists of grey and black

envelopes the togetherness

brought fear and unwanted distance

thy absence was my lost

but I will not forsake thee.

(a promise)

To Teach and To Learn

2011-04-25T01:00:00.000-07:00

It will be almost the end of the school year and all the hardwork will culminate towards the schooling of great minds. The entire year had been a challenge as new students still come even when the school year is almost done. When everyone is settled, the last person arriving has to work harder, to belong.

A child from Denmark came in last this school year with no background of the English language but she proved her worth by being resilient, receptive and resourceful. She is the epitome of what we should be all the time. It wasn't only the learning where she came across as smart but the teaching part where I get to pick her brain and her feelings through a hundred ways of communicating. We talk through sounds, words, eyes, feelings, sentiments and emotions. We communicated, we participated, we grew together as teacher and student.

Life has a purpose and when we stop learning from others, then we cease to live. Our constant exposure to people and their ways of life can harness in us an immediate reaction. However, we do so only when we open our eyes and our senses for every window of opportunity. We meet people not just to know their names but to know their personalities. We talk to people not only to say words but to translate them into feelings. We communicate with people not because we wanted to pass an information but because we wanted to build a link. We teach the people around us and we learn by being open to learning.

It might take one person for us to open our eyes. It might take one incident for us to make a decision. It might take one photograph for us to be awakened. It might take one word for us to wake up. It might take one look for us to stop. It might take one opportunity for us to propel. It might take one love for us to change. But it takes one you, to do what you needed to do.

Go, teach, learn and prosper!

The Bearings of a Gentleman

2011-04-17T01:00:00.000-07:00

What makes a gentleman?
Is it of his bearing
Of his clothes and his shoes
Of his watch glimmering?

What makes a gentleman?
Is it the women he woes?
Or the girls that adores?
Or the number of foes?

What makes a gentleman?
Is it his education?
Of honours and valour?
Of labour or vocation?

What makes a gemtleman?
Is it his wealth or riches?
The size of his wallet?
Of mansions and resources?

What makes a gentleman?
Is not what we see.
Is not what we hear.
Is not what we make of them.

What makes a gentleman?
It is his contributions.
His noble pursuits.
Of meeting solutions.

What makes a gentleman?
It is his faith.
His matters to family.
And love so great.

What I Dream For

2011-04-14T07:01:00.000-07:00

simple life with great meaning
is all I aspire throughout

simple needs, immaterial

a fruitful existence about.

for to live in simplicity

is without any doubt

less of trials and insecurities

of serenity devout.

a small cottage atop a hill

pristine beauty and green

or a hut that stands still

on a farm with nature serene.

with plants and flowers abloom

of caring, admiring with leisure

purple, blue, pink and red

surrounded with great pleasure.

and when to live a dream

is not but inevitability

not easy but with focus

and profound ability.

A Short Musical Treat

2011-04-12T21:47:00.000-07:00

I like going to flea markets especially when there are things related to arts. Just two days ago I was walking through the streets of Chiangmai to browse on items in a place they called Walking Street. It is a long stretch of road lined with wares such as clothing, art stuff, accessories, food, silverware, souvenir items and other things. There will be around three intersecting streets along that long road where massage chairs are lined up, more food and stalls, and artists sketching faces.

I ended to the Three Kings Monument where the art fest was being held. I managed to watch a fine musical extravaganza of Thai musicians using their local musical instruments. Then an international playing band came after them. They are from the Netherlands and called themselves Jigger Bigger Band and I was in for a treat.

The band doesn't use any electronic devices to hook their instruments. It was just the banging of their drums, the blowing of trumpets and trombones, and using some other percussion instruments that really made it a powerful music experience to hear. They played songs from the eighties including pieces from Broadways. It wasn't impossible to not dance as the vibes and the energy of the group spread out in full force to their viewers. It was a feast to see people stood up from their seats to actually participate and dance, something I rarely see in Thailand.

Music makes the soul alive and being alone didn't bother me that night. It was the experience of being in that moment, at the right time and place that made my life complete. It was music that accompanied me through another journey. It was short but a great treat.

A New Green

2011-04-12T01:00:00.000-07:00

Ferns are probably one of the most difficult to take care of. It takes the right temperature and correct environment for it to flourish. When I got some to plant in my garden, it took less than half a year for it to flourish and then it dried up. Though given lots of thoughts on where to plant them, it was such a hassle as I second guess every now and then where to finally place them. There was no right formula, it was a matter of trial and error.

So when I started to leave the plants to themselves, out came the blooming of ferns in all its splendour. I got a plenty and they are in different stages and in different sizes. They grew where I didn't plant them. They survive on pathways, brick edges, inside empty pots and even sprouting out of the ground covered with pebbles. And they are thriving and surviving.

I have seen many people who had been successful in their undertakings whether they come from a poor background or needing in education and material wealth. I have seen many who just wouldn't just give up. Whether you put these people in fire literally, they'll rise up from the ashes and begin anew.

I was torn into pieces when I was rejected by love. I was devastated when I was toyed by people. I was stabbed uncountable times by people what with their pretty smiles but evil intentions. When I was much younger, there even came a time when I thought of ending my life as doing this was the only light I saw peeking thru the tunnel. I simply couldn't do it, I refused to just give up and die.

Time and time again I am experiencing sadness and loneliness but not the kind of heavy burden I carried when I was younger. I have a more stable life now. I have learned many things from living alone and facing struggles without anyone around me. I learned to care not only for my being but also for my sanity, that when love wasn't available, life is still worth continuing.

The new green in me taught me a lesson. Wherever I maybe, the thought of surviving comes first and foremost. I might be thrown in the gutter but the smell of murky water will simply keep me fighting to swim up. I might meet the people who publicly humiliated me for being simple but I will return their snide with smiles, expressing my pity to their childish behaviour. I might slipped and fall again for being trustworthy and giving, yet my heart tells me that the good I made adds up to my heavenly score.

The new green in me will survive anything. For I believe that nothing is given to me that I couldn't carry. The new green in me will make me a better person. For I believe that what fate leads me to is a doorway to personal growth. The new green in me will bring me life. For I believe that death does not answer any problems. It is in living the now that we conquer death.

My Blog To Others

2011-04-05T01:00:00.000-07:00

Friendship is part and parcel of our living. We loved going to school because we get to meet our friends. We party up to the wee hours because we are in good company. We enjoy travelling as we experience the newness of a place with someone familiar and comforting. We seek their advices and we render our faith and trust to them.

My blog is my friend. I communicate my feelings and inner thoughts through writing. It is one way, since I write blobs of words to the blog without receiving an immediate answer. While the interpretations only come if ever one is lost in the cyber space and ends up browsing and commenting on my entries

I used to have a close friend who migrated to another country. Our friendship during high school was tight and we used to be in touch when we ended studying in different universities and pursuing different careers. He ended up our friendship when he started questioning how well I know him since he thought I wasn't interested in knowing what was happening at that time: his new found girl, his engagement, his marriage and eventually their first born child. He had a blog, well-presented narratives that simply kept me well-informed about his life, and of which I religiously read through the time he was in his new phase of life.

I don't see how you could be a good friend when you know nothing.” he added. I asked the same question and then replied, “I knew everything from your blog, how you two met, the waiting, the proposals and everything. You could ask me now, but do you know anything about me? There was no answer because he doesn't know what to answer. Thus the blame became mine to bear, and he made sure that the word best friends does not apply to us anymore because apparently, I knew nothing. Harsh, but I made no explanations whatsoever. I did my part of knowing him, to make sure I was informed, but it wasn't enough.

We are all busy and I don't expect people to read what I write. I was just hoping that one person will stumble upon my writings and learn from them. My former friend knows of my blog's existence so does the others in our group but none of them do come for a visit. I don't blame them. There are priorities in life and mine is just not theirs for the taking.

No regrets, and no bad feelings for I know that there are some who manage to read even how inconsistent or shallow the entries are. I write because I love to, not to impress or to impose on others but to leave something in return for giving me the opportunity to feel, to think and to love.

Happy Memories

2011-03-31T01:00:00.000-07:00

It's been years since I felt happiness. I am happy surrounded by children who adores their funny teacher. I am happy when I get to see my family even for just two or three times a year. I am happy when I get a pat on the back for a job well done by the parents of my students. But I am not entirely happy.

I used to be happy but when things became tougher and I had to face one of the biggest debacle of my life two years ago, I faltered, I became different. There was a choice to leave but I opted to stay. I thought I will go berserk with sadness and insecurities, but I managed to live, irregardless of my failing mental and physical health. I just wanted to free myself, to be free from responsibilities, from expectations, from hurting realities. Still, I am managing to survive.

So I will try to remember some of the greatest moments of my life as a person. The good memories will serve as my haven. It might be a precious bag of stuff or a memorable place where I get to re-live happiness. I think of the happy memories, days that I cherished, hours of exuberance, minutes of stillness that made me smile.

My Italian experience as the sole representative of Thailand is simply bliss. My one day trip to see mangroves in Krabi along with someone I miss is pure joy. My first motorcycle ride around the city proper with a friend is a thrill. The funny conversations I had with a driver in Vietnam is memorable. The parting with my new found acquaintances in Beijing, though sad, is indelible. So is the story with my American friend when we belted songs from Broadway in a piano store many years ago is rich in memories. And so is the joy I get from teaching children for years is incomparable.

If these great moments of my life will make me feel better, then I will hold on to them. When we wanted something badly, we hold on to those memories even for just a second more so as not to lose hope. For every strands of breath that pours out of our being becomes a will to go on... living.

A Great Day!

2011-03-26T07:17:00.000-07:00

I don't really attend parties but today's invite was an exception. My student had been asking me to be in her birthday party and when she handed me the invitation personally, taking it out of her backpack one afternoon, I willingly accepted. And after being there, not a single strand of regret.

The party was well-attended by all. What I mean is that all of my students were there. The best part was that all the parents were there too. I felt good seeing them there. I felt great seeing the companionship and warmth each families extend to one another. The parents were happy, the children were exquisitely joyful. They were ecstatic and none was excluded.

Seeing those moments of bonding made me think that my eight months work with these children paid off. Seeing the parents sharing positive anecdotes about school was enough to feel proud of what I do. Most of all, seeing the families happy was enough for me to continue what I do best.

To my wonderful twelve angels, thank you for a great day.

Not Too Much To Ask

2011-03-22T01:00:00.000-07:00

One of the biggest challenge in class is to make everyone cooperatively work and play together. Knowing that they are on the young side, the challenge is daunting since we all know that at this age, children thinks of themselves and not yet of others. The sharing and helping grows with age, and with the right guidance and words, it becomes a part of their lives until they leave our care.

Some weeks ago, a student from Chile joined the class and it was great to see her being accepted by the other children. However, there were jealousies as some became more of her friend than others. Then recently, another child from Denmark came to join the class so there will be another challenge to face. It is welcoming to see new faces and making a cohesive group is more likely the goal now for the rest of the term.

But these are children, when they argue, they are resilient and more forgiving and more understanding than adults. I remember having enemies in my former workplace because of some misunderstandings. I left the school without having the opportunity to explain myself or to make amends. I was hurt by many, torn into pieces by some for their meanness and lack of empathy. I was cut by rejection and bled much by unrequited feelings. I was dealt unfairly and discriminated because of my colour. I did not heal from them nor these things were forgotten.

I am getting old, and I had mellowed down proven by the kind words I hear from the people I work with for so many years now. I still have bouts of anger but it is just for some few minutes. I still harbour ill feelings but then I feel remorse after keeping them for some time. I feel betrayed by my emotions when I recall ill moments. I wanted to change and I seek for them.

I wanted to be like the four year old children in my class. One moment arguing about a certain toy and playing the next. No bad feelings but the urge to be together, to be one again, and to enjoy the moment. A simple sorry for hurting one's feelings, a smile to share when someone is hurt, and a hug to give to make someone feel better. I wanted to be like the boy in my class who is always jovial or the girl who always have friends around her. I wanted to have good friends around me. I wanted to be happy.

Perfection

2011-03-17T01:00:00.000-07:00

High above my head
swaying majestically

with arms open wide.

High above my head
dancing gracefully
with smiles that never hide.

High above my head

showering lightly

of leaves to fill the ground.

High above my head

dreaming contentedly

of a life pristine and sound.

High above my head

guiding thoughtfully

my life destined to infinity.

High above my head

waiting longingly

a path leading to serendipity.

The tree, a creation.

the clouds, fascination.

God is perfection.

Unsightly

2011-03-14T01:00:00.000-07:00

When we look at flowers, we often regard them as pretty when they are in buds and in bloom. We give them as presents for birthdays and weddings, for special occasions or to console the sick and the grieving. Flowers stand for many meanings and they had been the source of inspiration, for poets, writers, gardeners and nature lovers.

Beautiful they may be, it is not the roses that we should be celebrating. It is not the scent of the lilies nor the price attached to the gift. It is the purpose of the flowers, their very meaning, that we should celebrate. Yellow roses for the sick are just roses but the smile of its receiver is unparalleled to its cost. Bright coloured orchids may last longer but the aura of its beauty that makes a house a home is what we should seek.

I plant flowers not because they are pretty. I plant them because they signify life. The bugs that enjoy them and the seeds they carry brings forth a continuing cycle of life in its natural form. I plant flowers because they give me a sense of accomplishment for being able to grow them, and for them to prosper under my care. I plant flowers because they give meaning to my existence, that I am not just a user but also a provider and a caretaker.

When flowers start to wither, they lose their majestic beauty. The fading colour and the browning petals become unsightly and in a matter of a few days, the bouquet of roses or the big bunch of lilies are then shoved into the garbage bin. We have to make sure that we live accordingly, with a purpose, not just to exist but to live a meaningful and productive existence. Flowers become a reminder of life: birth, growth, prosperity and death. Even the withered flowers become a great metaphor of living.

A Beautiful Life

2011-03-09T01:00:00.000-08:00

While cleaning up the backyard of dried leaves and broken twigs, I happened to notice this climber that had outgrown and became unruly in its own space. I immediately grabbed some clippers and started to cut down scores of insect bitten leaves. There was one small brown sac of a cocoon hanging from a twig that I saved, just in case a small life was to emerge in a few days.

So one day while I was waiting for my ride, a butterfly was fluttering around the door not in a hurried flying pattern but ever so slow as if it was just learning how to flap its wings. I took out a camera and tried to catch the butterfly as it soared up and down some tall plants. I wondered whether the small sac that I left hanging opened up and if this butterfly was the tenant of such a home.

I haven't seen the butterfly anymore yet there were a number of smaller ones right after that beautiful day. Fluttering whites and yellows can be seen during early mornings and afternoons. Behold the sight of these visitors as they hop from one flower to the next. It is life right at my doorstep.

However, their colouration and delicate manners simply made them victims for the birds that also visit my garden. High above the treetops where the birds perched and chattered, they swooped down on these tiny creatures to feed their youngs. Oftentimes, I would see broken wings or part of a wing lying on the ground. Their bodies being consumed for food. Food chain in action.

When I left the comfort of my own home to seek and make my life, it was difficult. Day after day for three long months, the tears were just my constant companions. It was difficult being out of your own comfort zone what with all the househelp and the best one's own house could offer. But I needed to fly, to soar and to be on my own.

The birds of the world were just aplenty and in dealing with everyday situations, they felt like vultures ready to devour me anytime. The birds of my life were hovering and ready to pound but I learned to escape and protect myself from harm. The birds of my existence flocked within short distances of me as if they were always on the lookout for mistakes, human errors, insecurities, and misgivings.

The butterflies cannot do anything when they were attacked but I could and I did. When I was out cold, I seek for shelter. When I was lost, I looked for a way. When I was miserable, I comforted myself. When I was in doubt, I thought hard. When I was looking, I opened my eyes wide. I was a butterfly with wings so I could soar. I wasn't broken. I wasn't lacking. I was complete and made ready to face the world. And when I look back on what I had done in the past, I smile because I made my life, a beautiful life.

Ongoing

2011-03-06T01:00:00.000-08:00

One afternoon as I was watching television, it dawned on me that I have no life. It was a weekend when all through the weekday I was planning to go to the supermarket to get some groceries, to walk to the weekend market to see some new wares and thought of going to see a new movie being shown. However a stomach flu prevented me from doing all what was planned. I stayed put in my home and consumed DVDs.

In the middle of the afternoon, tears started to well down my eyes and then I started sobbing. Looking out of my door, the darkening clouds of a gloomy afternoon was making friends with my feelings. Both were melancholic, almost hurting to the touch. I needed some healing.

I paused what I was watching and headed out to my garden which had been my place of solemnity all throughout. Looking at the unfinished side of the garden of which I was trying to re-design, it made me realized that my life was like what was right in front of me. The empty pots, the creeping roots, the piled up dirt, and the grass and weeds were like the feelings I had been harbouring all these times.

My life is an unfinished one, just like everyone else's. We have things to accomplish or responsibilites to be done. We have promises to be fulfilled and dreams to follow suit. Life is not all beautiful for it is an ongoing process that we must face. The garden I admired for years and the flowers and plants I looked at won't be there forever. I need to work on them and give them what they need.

My life, just like yours, is work. A work that we need to do, following the protocols of survival. My momentary fall to misery will always be there so I need to work on it. The garden won't be pretty by itself, it needed work. I won't be happy everyday but the sudden feeling of lost wakes my mind about the presence of hope, of tomorrow, and of happiness that I'll find. Like when I work in the garden, one day at a time, true happiness can be found.

Patterns

2011-03-03T13:00:00.000-08:00

Growing up, we had the tendency to seek someone to act as our role model or someone to adore. It could be a movie star or our teacher, the mums of our lives or a distant relative. Whoever the person was, we make it a point to somehow mimic them, or dream that one day, yes, "I'll be like him/her."

Given the individual differences amongst us, this tendency to mimic others could lead two ways. One positive outcome is a productive life encouraged by the achievements of our role models. Another positive result is the zest to go beyond what our role model had accomplished. Yet copying someone's behaviour when it seemed fun could be damaging as well. For our free choice tell us that one person could be a good model when for others, it's not.

When I walk through the street especially those that were of made of cobblestone, I simply notice the pattern of the stones. Our lives are like each and every stone joined together. I could work well with the people around me and a path for walking seemed manageable through each and single steps. The pattern of my behaviour and yearning in life coincides with the pattern of the person besides me or near me.

Yet each and every stone would have its life. Some get chipped by wear and some gets broken through weak resistance. However, they still hold close together to act as a walkway or a path for others to thread on. When we work with great people, we become great as well. We tend to achieve more and see life as an enormous playground filled with opportunities and great gains.

When we work in an unproductive environment, just like living with someone who has no positive influence to us or working with people who are uninspired, we then survive because we follow a pattern of monotony, going on just to end the day.

Patterns are everywhere. We make them as our guide to grow or we make them as a simple excuse to exist. We should pattern our lives to those that are great, not mediocre, and become productive. We should be surrounded by positive people. We should be aware of our words, our actions and our thoughts. For your pattern in life will simply be imitated by those surrounding you. You do good, they follow the deed. You do bad, it becomes impressionable to others.

Moments

2011-02-26T01:00:00.000-08:00

There are many rich moments captured as I deal with children and their spontaneity. As the day progresses, from the first smiles to the goodbyes, the small events become bonding moments. Each day could be captured in small moments and each learning encompasses a wide spectrum of interests. Seizing those real meanings become priceless.

As a teacher, I do project stories as a springboard for my lessons. My project stories had simply evolved throughout the years, based on the differing interests and levels of enthusiasms manifested by different sets of children. From pond life to communication and to movement, the stories become building stones of learning and of new knowledge not only in the part of the children but also to me as an educator.

To encapsulate the moments of learning inspires me to do better when I could be. It inspires me to work when I see delightful faces and sense of wonder from the young children I am involved with. It inspires me to make changes and accept mistakes and failures. It inspires me to teach and to be a better person. It makes me grow.

I simply adore putting into one documentation board a moment that plays an important part to a child's discovery and exploration of something relevant. My struggle is to make some people see that the product of this endevour is to document and not to show off my skills not only in making boards but in making a child's learning open for re-visitation. I am inspired so it shows in my work. However, there are some who simply wish to pull me down and I am affected. Rather than be encouraged, I am downright mocked.

I will still do my duty because I enjoy doing good things for myself and for the young children that I teach. No one man could stop me from doing what I am good at, or great at, and that is to teach. It's my moment and I need to embrace it.

Inner Beauty

2011-02-22T05:17:00.000-08:00

There is this tree in our school that bears some of the most beautiful flowers and fruits ever. It is called the Rose Apple. When the flowers bloom, each and every hair like strand from the flower falls from the tree branches as if there was a shower. When the greenish fruit turns red, they looked like clusters of bells ready to chime and sing their lyrical songs. I just adore the appearance.

There is one problem though. The beauty of the fruit is a facade to what is inside those lovely red bells. Other rose apples are edible but this one is not. When they fall down from their branches and we opened them up, the flesh of the fruits were eaten up by maggots. For some that remained hanging, the taste was bland and sometimes, raw and inedible.

My outside beauty is nil since I am blessed with typical features. I rarely smile and I don't interact well with other adults. I am not a party goer nor keen in attending celebrations, basically shy in many aspects. I am but ordinary. But my inner beauty shines like a beacon when I work with children. I hold good intentions and leads my students to greater strides. I am but extraordinary.

Beauty gets no admiration when we know nothing about good manners. A simple good morning that couldn't be reciprocated or a nod or smile to acknowledge one's presence. Beauty becomes superficial when what we see is just the face or the body, and yet the inside is lacking in quality. Beauty becomes nothing when we look only from the outside.

The rose apples remind me of how I should be contented of what I have. The outside is simply a facade, an image that acts as a vessel. What's more important is what is inside us, something that demands a higher recognition and admiration. Beauty and good attitude should go hand in hand. For those who think they are but ordinary, we could celebrate our inner beauty through good deeds and kind words. For by doing so, we radiate beauty, inside out.

Washed Away

2011-02-17T01:00:00.000-08:00

Wash away my sorrows

so as I may live with less despair.

Wash away my worries

and turn them to peace of mind.

Wash away my anxieties

that makes it hard to see tomorrow.

Wash away the insecurities

for it constantly drags me down.

Wash away my anger

for love cannot find its way.

Wash away my growing pain

just a smile to ease its presence.

Wash away my lost way

to find myself a new direction.

Wash away my resigned hope

to renew my ailing spirit.

One Birthday Wish

2011-01-23T01:00:00.000-08:00

Every year I celebrate my birthday with the students in my class. An ice cream cake or a cake will suffice and we will all partake a cup of cold delights and enjoy the short bonding moments during recess.

Every year I celebrate my birthday by visiting a church or a temple. Last year, I fed birds and released some fish to the river. This year, I made merit by donating some money to a foundation and then prayed in a temple.

Every year, I wanted to eat out with some or just one good friend. This year, I spent the afternoon and evening with two beautiful people in my life. I got laughs, tears, joy and love for eight hours of non-stop sharing of stories and funny moments. And to my surprise, I got a cake, handed by a former student of mine, and the gesture was deeply appreciated.

Every year, as the day ends, I sit down and reminisce how lucky I am to be alive and having had lived a great year. This year, one birthday wish is fulfilled once again, a wish I always hope to happen even for just this one day of the year, that is, to be with someone.

A big thanks to Sumead and Deena for the cards, Joan and Carol for the wonderful company, Marc for the pillow, Sai for the cake, RMA staff for the birthday wishes, Wasan for the temple visit, Stephen for the overseas call, ITG for the birthday entry, my dad for his very first sms message to me, and to all of those who shared this one birthday wish even with a one line birthday greeting. Love you all!

Karin

2011-01-20T01:00:00.000-08:00

An irreplaceable teacher is about to leave the school and I say irreplaceable. Is there such a thing such as irreplaceable? Yes, in her case, she is.

We’ve known each other for so many years and I have seen her rise from being an assistant teacher to one of the most promising in the field. She learns fast and had been adaptable to many situations confronting her everyday. She is well-loved by her peers and by her students and parents while maintaining a humble and well-respected demeanour.

She had been my support buddy. Not that we agree on all things but we also have our bouts of arguments and misunderstandings. We still maintain our own identities as teachers but continues to support each other through thick and thin. Our ideas would always be about children, the passion and the caring attitude, and it is in this respect that I find her not only a good person but also a great colleague in school.

I will miss her morning greetings, her warm smiles and her genuine concern. I will miss her gifts of chocolates after every school break. I will miss her baked cookies from her cooking sessions. One good friend had left last year and so her leaving would be very difficult for me. Yet I will always remember that she had been a part of my growth as a teacher.

Karin will be missed in school yet her contributions to the so many lives of young children will become a legacy in itself. I wish her all the best and with this entry, I send her all my love.

My Footprints

2011-01-14T01:00:00.000-08:00

I have the greatest job in the world because I see the accomplishments I make in the lives of young children. I have the best seat in the theatre of life as I see their growth blossoms right in front of me. I have the best medicine for sadness and loneliness for they are always willing to give me a hug with a wonderful smile and encouragement.

I am delighted to be part of the lives of these little children that I teach everyday. Hearing comments from their parents had been very heartwarming and lovely. Year after year, I do hear people saying that the only reason they stayed in school is because of me. I do hear that the reason they chose the school was because of me. I have also heard that the children will miss my camaraderie and my overflowing love for them. I am overjoyed.

Just last month, I told a child that his "movie" was done and that we needed just the voice over for it to be totally finished. He viewed the final run with music and he was impressed. The smile and the glowing eyes as he reads and looks at the moving pcitures made me smile and I was indeed happy. I was about to face the other way to see how the other children were doing when he called me.

Me: Yes? Do you like it?
Keanu: I love it!
Me: Thank you.
Keanu: I love you Teacher Jonathan. Could I give you a kiss?

I cried that moment. The next day, I cried more when I told the story to his mom and we were crying on the playground in front of many people. For those who give, they do receive.

A Growing Poem

2011-01-10T04:28:00.000-08:00

Believe
One word
But ever true
In every life's endeavour
Living life with a purpose.

Love
So empowering
Force to reckon
Two souls in one
The reason for our existence.

Faith
In God
Who holds us
To live and learn
The purpose of our existence.

A New Morning

2011-01-05T01:00:00.000-08:00

The recently concluded holidays became an awaited moment for some to refresh themselves and renew their spirits. It was a way to be with families and ponder the good times and heal the old wounds. It was an excuse to meet former friends and make new ones as everyone seemed to be in the spirit of the holidays.

I planned early, getting presents and things to give to my relatives and friends. I planned early, in securing airline tickets so I could be with love ones. I planned early, in scheduling myself so as to spend time wisely during my break.

However, the holidays won't be complete if I have not make connection with myself, a much needed peace and compromise to become better and feel better. The holidays became an excuse to prepare and be more busy. The holidays became a distraction to the many things occupying my troubled mind.

I have no plans as to what to do in the near future and have no idea where I am actually heading with this journey. I have met many people who had been giving me advices and pat in the back but I still have to endure the trials all by myself. The need to be in a new environment, the need to be in a secure place, the need to be important in my workplace, and the need to belong to a group are intertwined problems affecting my behaviour right now.

I am good, I am great and I know I can do many good things. I should not be in this dilemma but must get out of this rut. This new year, I should make plans for myself so as I get the needed peace not brought by the holiday break but by putting things in order, in perspective, and in importance. I vow to change and these changes won't be easy.

The morning is here, the action is now.

To Be Free

2010-12-28T06:56:00.000-08:00

take my hand and lead me elsewhere
where there is peace and serenity
of calm waves and silent waters
that fills my soul with peace and glee.

lead me through this constant fear
of rejection and hostility
so I may fly and soar carefree
the wind against my face to feel.

bring me to a place of mere beauty
for my eyes to admire and feast
so that each colour retains in my mind
to warm me in sole existence.

let me escape this tiresome living
to light my weary mind and soul
a place to be and to grow
in a humble abode of joy.

Fireball

2010-12-23T16:16:00.000-08:00

Just like when one push of a domino could create a blowout, I am in my most vulnerable self as I struggle to take hold of my patience and deal with people with kindness and understanding but I couldn't.

When I arrived the gym, I found that my shoe locker was locked by a plastic string and was told to see the towel department. I went and asked but there was no reply. The man followed me to the gym and then flipped through his chart and cut the string out. I asked for the second time but the reply was, "Misunderstanding!" I went to the reception and asked if the manager or supervisor was around and was told to "just" write my comment or complaints and drop it in their comment box. I went ballistic.

If I am a fireball, the rest of the people in the gym probably died from sheer heat. I got no reply and no explanations and I was late in my gym class. To add insult, my trainer didn't even extend fifteen minutes more of her time even if she is free for the next four hours. When I had my training after two days and still with no explanations, my trainer then met me five minutes late and then dismissed me five minutes earlier. When I asked why the sudden changes, she gave me a shrug. Argggh!

I was home and was giving this thing a thought or two. Then it dawned on me that these people probably go to their respective jobs to do a not so respective work because they are not motivated. They know nothing but just be present in their posts. I am assuming that they are bored or stressed or have no fruitful thing to do but accept the only work available at the moment.

In a way I am also beset with stress the whole time. The thing I need to do is to understand situations and people. I need to remind myself that not all could be like me and that everyone is different. I needed to be more tolerant and give things a different perspective. I needed a vacation and the coming holidays is much awaited as I will be out of my usual routine. Everybody needs a break and everybody deserves one. Have a great break to all and happy holidays.

Kids!

2010-12-15T01:00:00.000-08:00

My four year old students are funny and the classroom is always a room filled with laughter.

Jack: There are aliens in every planets except Earth.

Teacher: Planets? Like what planets?

Jack: like Africa

Presenting the letter M

Something you put in your hand if you need to touch something hot…

Clue: Sounds like kitten.

Alicia: I know…meow?

Lucas: Who wants to go to my house?

Everybody raised their hands.

Madeline: I don’t know where you live. You need to give me an address.

Lucas: I cannot go. I have no dress, I am a boy.

Teacher: “What should we do with our neighbours together?”

Answers: play, eat, sleepover, watch tv

Alicia: Take a bath together.

Teacher: I was told you met Reinier and Felix at Starbucks. Do you like the drinks at Starbucks?”

Johnathan: “Yah, I like drinking beer!”

Felix hitting me to ask for help.

Teacher: “Please say excuse me if you need something, ok?”

Felix: Kiss me, kiss me!

Aino: Don't copy me.

Deena: I don't copy me.

Difficult

2010-11-20T01:00:00.000-08:00

I was once told by an acquaintance that I will not be happy if I do not know what I really want and what I am to search for. Until now, those words had been true as I do not know where I am heading. Many had come and left and had built lives of their own. Knowing them, I was not far behind and I was even one or more notches better. But to compare their lives and mine, they had gone several notches while I still live in oblivion.

I had fallen in love many times but I wasn't lucky enough to be granted reciprocity. It was indeed sad throughout but I had learned to accept what was for me and what were not. Yet in the long span of circumstances that goes round and round, I still have to learn from those lessons.

Last holidays, I finally met the face behind the words that I had been admiring for a year now. It was a great meet yet it was the most awkward situation I had ever been into. I couldn't retreat to silence so as to admire the beauty in front of me as I was being questioned constantly. The meeting was short but the longing still mingles around my soul.

God knows how much drama I put myself for this meet, preparing for a long haul, and flagellating myself because this is all wrong. It was wrong so I opted for the memories of that short meet- the voice, the smiles, and the polite expressions. A present was given to me to remember our friendship and I will treasure that forever.

I haven't learned any lessons of the heart and all I do is to collect memories. Though now it is sinking in that I am just craving for attention and it was granted, I succumb to something difficult. I do not seek for an exchange of affection but I just wanted to write the moment as a reference. It is indeed a long winding road but I will find the end.

Since I wrote this almost a year ago, I finally found the answer. There are some things not meant to be. They come to our lives to enrich it. They come to our lives like a stone thrown in the water. In stillness, then ripples, then calmness unperturbed. And suddenly gone.

To Survive

2010-11-17T01:00:00.000-08:00

During the past months and with the onset of rain and flood, the plants in my garden had been enjoying the respite from the summer heat that blazed through May and to July. Unperturbed by the rain and seeing that nature is taking care of my garden, I took a long rest in caring for my plants.

I did not notice that two of my precious potted flowering trees had clogged drainage. The potted plants were filled to the brim, come heavy rain or sunshine. One of them survived the odds of having too much water. It had grown some molds round the trunk but is still alive. The other flowering plant did not make it. The water that filled it suffocated the plant as there were no space to drain excess water.

My journey through the years could be summarized by the two potted plants in my garden. The one which survived symbolizes my determination to go on with life. The constant fear of living alone in a big house after some bad incidents, the rising hostility of parents against coloured teachers in school, the unfair treatment I get from locals based on my origin and the uncertainty of life itself had been struggles yet sources of my strength to live and to fight for my rights.

Meanwhile, the other plant had symbolized my hopes to be a part of an accepting community. I planted in my mind that whatever great things I do, they will always be regarded as excesses or show offs especially in the place where I work.

I always have this need to shine so I do more than what others can. I always want to prove that colour or race does not play an important part in making great lives work. I always wanted to be better, not to lead a fight but to connect people together. I do fail but I survive.

So when heavy rains come again and fill my life with hard decisions and struggles, I will hold on to my faith. That one day my work will be rewarded and that my life had a meaning, not only to myself but to others. Giving up is not an option for now, but looking at things in different ways will help me survive.

Neglect

2010-11-13T01:00:00.000-08:00

Busy lives mean more things to do. Busy lives mean more stress and demands. Busy lives mean neglect. Though being busy is not bad at all, the consequences of putting off other important things become a burden in the end. And regret is surely irreversible.

For those who live on a day to day basis, subsisting with their meager income, being busy to bridge the needs of their own and their family becomes a familiar sight. A father who is always absent from home and a mother who is burdened by housework, caring for their children by herself. There seems to be a genuine concern to build a brighter future but the lack of presence triggers a generally probing matter.

As busy as I am with teaching, my health became the victim of my incessant quest to be always moving, always thinking, always being productive. The results had been never pretty and ending up in a hospital became an eye opener. Then I became busy making myself healthy, leaving the tending of the garden to Mother Nature herself. The plants had grown big, the roots had escaped their clay pots and the sights had been unruly. My housework had piled up and ending each day with a sigh and a tired body, sleep was my only friend.

Busy lives are productive when there are goals to pursue but we need to put importance to those that we care most. It could be your health, your family, your friends, your work or your love in life. We just have to remember that we become busy for a purpose - the goal of which is to lead productive and harmonious lives, not of negligent gestures.

Aunt Frances

2010-10-30T08:24:00.000-07:00

I remember living on the top floor of the school where I used to work when I first started working in an international setting. The school was small, housed in a condominium with four floors. The preschool section can be found on the second while the tutorials were on the third. The top floor was my sleeping quarter.

On my third week of school, I received some visitors asking about my whereabouts since the news spread out that there was a new kid on the block. I met Aunt Frances, a very fine fellow indeed.

Aunt Frances is a nurse by profession and they came to the country as expatriates from the US. She graciously offered one vacant room in their house to be my place and I agreed. It was difficult at first since I am not used to living with people who are not my relatives, more so, people whom I just met. But they were very good hosts and through the passing days, I became close to all three of them in the family. I was treated well, and received with warmth and became a part of her family. I am even allowed to use the car during the weekends.

I became part of their lives for a year until they were moved to another country and I had to find a new place to be in. I was very sad to see them leave but as expat families do, they had to go wherever they were assigned. Aunt Frances took care of me from day one up to their last day in Thailand. I am honored to have met such a great family, and deeply appreciative that I meet people like Aunt Frances during the course of my life. I am sure she is blessed for being so kind and loving.

Rosemarie

2010-10-25T01:00:00.000-07:00

With little expectations, I was told that there was a need of a substitute teacher in a small school far away from where I was currently residing. It was three long rides before reaching the place. In a small quaint house was a school for the locals primarily geared towards the younger age. It was a house filled with activities.

I was introduced to the owner of the school and with her stature as an educator of excellent background, I stood there like a little kid awed. She is Rosemarie, an American educator who worked with the Peace Corps and then started a life anew in Thailand. She started a small school that catered to the need of the people in that village and she became a household name for the years to come.

Her persona is magnified in hundred folds as she is brilliant, caring, and always believe in people. She is a real hero for most, surviving difficulties all throughout and bracing whatever comes her way. She stood up high and became a beacon of success.

I was privileged enough to be one of her first teachers and was equally proud for being the person in charge of helping her establish her preschool in another posh village. I remember riding a pick up truck and going to Chinatown to purchase some supplies needed for the school, a day before the opening. It was fun!

The ride wasn't smooth as it was a new school. There had been problems and issues but resolved under the leadership of this magnificent woman. I was in many troubles with her and she managed to work with me even when I was being complicated. I became a part of her school for ten years from the very start to the flourishing years up to having built my name as an educator.

Until now, she will always be my mentor. I enjoyed my stay at her school and I do wish that all my efforts were not left unfounded. I knew from stories around that I am remembered and cherished. In my own little way, this becomes a fitting tribute to a woman who gave me the opportunity and the chance to become great.

The Will To Live

2010-10-20T01:00:00.000-07:00

Walking along the planks of a wooden bridge, I happened to noticed a small plant growing from a trunk of a dead tree. I took a shot of it upon realizing that the plant is hanging there to live on its own, making the dying tree its host. I named the picture The Will To Live.

It reminded me of a close friend I had met many years ago. He was a young handsome lad who makes very little money for a living. He came from upcountry and decided to find a better life in the city, a typical story shared by many.

He worked doing many things and the last time I heard of him, he was driving a cab. There was this time that he called me asking for my help as he was very ill. I went to visit and I was in tears finding him in an almost empty room. With no bed to lie on, a very thin blanket and a small pillow, it was a sad sight to behold. He was clinging for his last strength, gave himself a push to muster some courage to ask help from me and it was gruelling to listen to his story. I had helped him so many times that I lost count and this was the reason why he hesitated to call in the first place.

He survived through the help of neighbours, giving him food for lunch and dinner and some money to buy medicines. In my capacity as a lost friend, I helped him out. I gave some money, bought food and more medicine and sat there for some time. When he felt sleepy, I left knowing that he would be fine.

I have no idea where he is now. After that incident, he decided to leave the city and return home to his parents and he had not made contact ever since. I still remember our last telephone conversation. With him crying on the phone, he said that he had learned to love me and I believed him so.

Aunt Laura

2010-10-12T01:00:00.000-07:00

Invited to attend a Christian service, I happened to met one wonderful lady by the name of Laura. She was a stern looking woman but knowing how stern looking people are (I am one!), I immediately took a liking to her personality.

Laura was an accomplished pianist, having played in many occasions including concerts for the royal family. She was well-known in her circle and was loved by everyone. She would be invited here and there and she enjoyed the glitter and the privilege to belong.

Laura was the one who accompanied me to the next person in my tribute line. She was instrumental in making me change, to be a better person. She encouraged me to believe in myself and something that she saw in me that I happened not to noticed. She believed in me as a person, and as a teacher.

People from the school often praised her for her true and vibrant spirit. She always had something for the staff to eat and when I was sick once, she sent some food to my place which was a lovely gesture. She was a family member, my adopted aunt.

We attended parties together, met people and had fun during weekends or holidays. Her songs in school and the music she created while playing the piano still lingers in my memory. We parted ways when I decided to leave.

Coming back after two years of absence, I heard that she passed away from health reasons. She was penniless at that time and one good friend shouldered the expenses to send her home. She was one of the most giving person I had met, that money was not the objective of her existence, but to share her expertise and genuine concern to others.

I cried upon learning her demise and I am proud to have had the opportunity to be with her even for a short time. She will be remembered and without doubt, a great part of my life as an educator.

10.10.10

2010-10-10T10:00:00.000-07:00

It's just a number but the need to get 10 in work and play propel us to work harder, to seek advices, to learn from the pro, and to further pursue goals to achieve our full potentialities.

We always strive for perfection and then end up being successful or miserable. Sporting events are competitive in nature and it takes an athlete years to master what he is good at, and perfect it. Cooks and chefs take lessons from master cooks to bring out the best flavours in their dishes, thus to perfect them. Participants in creative competitions push harder and develop world class designs or performances, a need to perfect their crafts. However too much of anything brings downfall, and in this scenario, pursuing 10 beyond our limits might end up to frustrations and defeat. We should know out limits.

I am not competitive but I put more effort in what I do. I go to work earlier than usual and dread being late to an appointed meet. I am told to make a presentation, I do twice what was asked of me. I am to teach but I go beyond by looking into each and every child and dig deeper to their core to help them with their strengths and correct their weaknesses. I put more effort in everything.

To be good is fair enough but to be better is far more compelling. Perfection is a discipline and once achieved, it elevates us to the highest level of satisfaction and success. Nobody's perfect? Yes, but we could perfect some things in life. We should give 10 a chance, to challenge ourselves once in a while. And when we compete with life, we know that our efforts deserve a 10 and nobody can take that feeling of contentment and hard work away from us.

Thus, I give myself an 8 for being considerate, a 9 for being a strong person, and a 10 for loving unconditionally.

Lin Lao Shr

2010-10-06T01:00:00.001-07:00

After graduating with a degree in arts, I pursued a masteral program in religions through a scholarship from the same university. I wasn't doing anything in the mornings so when my friend called for a part time job, I went to meet the principal.

It was difficult for me to understand the way the principal spoke because I wasn't familiar with her accent. I lost my Chinese when I went to the university and had no contact whatsoever of my Chinese friends. It was tough seated there and trying to decipher the language and making sense of what she was saying. I was rescued by her daughter then when the latter started speaking English.

Knowing Lin Lao Shr after I was hired was a delight in itself. She was a veritable house of knowledge and spoke volumes in terms of teaching skills and techniques. We always ran to her when we were in need of help regarding a student or from an unreasonable mom. She was always smiling and we considered her as our mother.

She was an honorary member of some of the prestigious Chinese schools around. She was invited most of the time to be a speaker and she always shared stories of her life and her beginnings. When I left the school after being there for six years, I heard from some of my former colleagues that she spoke highly of me in one of her talks. She spoke about giving opportunities to all, and giving a chance to those who wanted to work in the teaching profession. Being a male person and a rarity at that time, I became a role model in her eyes and it was her teachings that shaped me to be a good teacher.

I owe her my humble beginnings. I was the grumpy, emotional and self-centered individual just out of college and knowing nothing about the world and teaching. Her guidance, assurance and words of wisdom had helped me find the direction I was intended to. She was the epitome of a great teacher.

Impression

2010-10-03T01:00:00.000-07:00

This isn't one of author-artist Leo Lionni's famous books, a four time Caldecott Honor Book awardee. However, this is one of my favorite book because it gave me an opportunity to show to the children a delightful and light example of an ethical idea.

I was told by an acquaintance that a mom from one of my former class decided to stop communicating with people coming from my country. I was told that she had a bad experience as someone borrowed money from her and then disappeared. That person was a teacher.

Whenever I see a scruffy looking person in the street, my first impulse is to walk towards the other side of the sidewalk so as to avoid that person. In my mind, I am avoiding getting into any situation that I might not be able to run away with. This is entirely baseless. It is a reaction triggered by constant reminders and stories of mugging, threat or extortion. Something that I am not immune to.

I once took a cab before and the conversation between me and the driver went like this:

Driver: I look at the passenger who hails my cab as I am wary of those who gets in.

Me: The same goes to me though but it is tough to choose since it is dark so I take a chance.

Driver: It is difficult because we work so hard and then we get robbed.

Me: I fully understand as I had been robbed as well. But it is not just the mean looking guys or girls that are bad. Some are even dressed well, and they have bad intentions.

Driver: That's right. The world we live in is different. We do not know how bad looks like. It is always playing chances.

So I walk the field in a way that I am always alert of my environment, sensing danger when it approaches but giving everyone a fair chance to show their colours. We know when someone is not going to be nice, it's an instinct. We move away from them. But we should never apply one bad impression of someone to all. As one of the mouse character in the book called Uncle Raymond would say, " One bad bird doesn't make a flock." It's absolutely true!

Women and MEn

2010-10-01T01:00:00.000-07:00

In a female dominated world, my profession as a teacher are always tested whether I will survive the challenges of teaching young children, the demands of parents, or the bulk of work associated with teaching. For many years, I am always struggling to cope, if not to belong, in the company of women.

This October, I decided to write things about the many women I have met throughout my career as an educator. It is just fitting to remember the glory and the contributions that gave me the strength to continue with this vocation.

Jean is probably the person fitted to be showcased as my first entry. She was a classmate of mine when I was in third year high school and then again when I was in second year university level. We were seated together in class as we share the same inital letter, when everyone in class were seated alphabetically. We lost contact when we started taking our majors but got together again when she called me up after graduation.

She told me that there was an opening in a school for an assistant teacher. Since I am not doing anything in the morning I accepted the offer. It was tough since I never thought I will be assisting very young children but that experience showed me that I have what it takes to be patient, loving and sincere.

We worked for a year and she left the school and pursued other things. We lost contact but the opportunity she shared to me to work together and be a teacher became my profession. It was the beginning.

I am thankful and just like the book The Giving Tree she gave me for my birthday years ago, each section of that chopped tree represented my inner self: my growth, my learnings and my destiny.

Mean Me

2010-09-29T06:28:00.000-07:00

During lunch time, the teachers were chatting about many things. While included in the conversation, it came up, maybe meant as a joke, that I am mean. I was surprised not because it was brought up but because I hear the same thing from the same person for many times now.

I thought of it as a passing joke because I am the only male person in a female dominated school. I thought that a remark like this was meant as a springboard for more jokes. I thought of it as a teasing thing. But today when I heard it again, I am thinking that it might be true.

Right now the only possible explanation I can find is, my transparency towards many things. People know when I am sad or angry. People know if I just finished crying or in a happy disposition. I couldn’t sugar coat my words. I must be very good at describing unpleasant situations thus I am branded as a mean person.

I am writing this so as not to defend myself of which I could actually do since this is my blog. I am writing this so as to remind me that my transparency as a person had done great things for me. I am real without the same nicey-nicey smiles you get but able to stab others incessantly. I am true to others unlike those who remind you they are your friends but are nowhere to be found. It’s me, take it or leave it.

My point is, if I am mean just like what this person is claiming, how come I hear many mean things about this person? Hmmm...need not explain.

Preserving Memories

2010-09-16T01:00:00.000-07:00

Two summers ago, I met one extraordinary child who is not only beautiful but also full of enthusiasm. She has such a great heart and an exquisite smile that she is going to be my perennial fave.

At the end of that summer, she gave me a rose as a token of appreciation for the care and love the teachers showered her. The summer had ended for almost two years now but the rose is still intact.

I left the rose inside the refrigerator to preserve a part of that day longer than expected. Flowers wither but the memories associated with them will remain for a longer time.

There had been many memories I wanted to hold on to because they were sources of inspirations and delightful anecdotes. The stories associated had been scaffold so as learning could be achieved. The bad memories are nightmares but being purged to oblivion.

For now, good thoughts will accompany me wherever and whatever I do as I try to make everything a pleasant experience. My health is important so a good mental attitude is a plus. I will think of good things and I will continue my path of doing well and helping others.

Boredom 2

2010-09-10T21:47:00.000-07:00

I finished two more art pieces inspired from activities found in an Usborne Book. All these pieces were painted on 60 x 60 cm canvasses.

I washed the background with mild orange colour and drew an elephant in bold red. I used the smallest brush I could find in my house to intricately draw some details.

I used pale yellow as background and drew the foreground like a silhouette. The leaves were very difficult to execute and finishing the artwork gave me a headache afterwards.

Boredom

2010-09-09T01:00:00.000-07:00

Nothing much to do after my surgery but rest, so I decided to do some artworks.

I used acrylic paint sponged on canvas to create a sea scene. I only have size 11 paintbrush so I cannot control the strokes for the corals, making them look big.

Van Gogh used short lines to build up the shape of the trees and the sky. This is my version of an original Van Gogh painting.

I tried using oil pastel on canvas and it was difficult to press so as to create brilliant colours. Anyway, this will do, my version of an original artwork from an Usborne Activity Book.

Two more to go!

Stitches Out, Gossips In

2010-09-07T01:00:00.000-07:00

This afternoon, I went back to the hospital to get the stitches out. The doctor who did the stitching was the one who removed them as well. He didn't let the nurse do it nor an assistant but he himself. I kind of like this doctor who had been caring and gentle to me. While removing the stitches, he mentioned that I am a sensitive person and I told them he was right. He heard from my other doctor that I cried when the latter was about to perform endoscopy. I told him I cried too when I was wheeled to the operating room for surgery. Then I added emotional and sentimental to describe me fully.

A lot of people dislikes sensitive people as they are rather fragile in emotions and weak in accepting faults. However, the sensitivity in me goes beyond being hurt or being called names or when I am subjected to rejection. The sensitivity in me is being aware of what is going on and what is to happen next. I do see the relevance of events. I make sure I am not stepping on people's toes. I try to be more of a listener and a doer rather than a complainer and a speaker. I know when to stop talking. I feel for people, see through them and in a not so good way, become like them, absorbing their energies and thus making me sad at times, but hopeful at most.

I couldn't stand watching war movies, moreso, acts of violence including rape. I cringe at the sight of disasters and desolation. I cry when I see young children begging for alms instead of attending school. Yet with all these things which are real and around us, my saving grace is that I am not callous and that I have not lost the humane part of me: I help, I volunteer and I share.

Crying with no reasons and being weak at the same time would render nothing but lost opportunities to grow. My emotions are released through tears rather than violent acts or loud noises. If I had been doing nothing but to surrender to my emotions, then I couldn't have done many things that I am proud of.

"I don't like the sight of blood.", I told my doctor. "I like blood but I don't like to see people in pain.", he said. "That's good to know and I am glad to have met a sensitive doctor like you."

Three Blessed Days

2010-09-05T01:00:00.000-07:00

All is great now. The operation was a success and the experience a great learning process. While I reminisce the events of the three days period I was in the hospital, it gives me pleasure to write them down so as to remember those bittersweet and moments of exhilaration.

When I sneaked in two fish burgers for lunch prior to my operation in the evening, the doctor came in and saw me biting the last piece of the burger and said, “K. Jonathan, what are you eating? You’re not supposed to eat anymore.” “But I was hungry, would you like to go with me for lunch?” The bribe didn’t work so I gave the other burger to my interpreter.

Just before the operation, my interpreter came in before she left for home and send me her best wishes. What surprised were the two sentences she said before leaving. “You always have a smile on your face.” and “You have a great smile.” Now no one will backed her up with these because I am known as a stern looking teacher, a serious conversationalist, and a non-smiling person in real life (proven by all my photographs).

I was awakened by three nurses at six in the morning right after the night of the operation. They were there for my bath which I refused to have. I excused myself to the bathroom and brushed my teeth. Right after cleaning the toothbrush, I felt queasy and fell down on the floor hitting my head on the marble top. Clinging on dear life because the fall made my stomach hurt, I was groaning in pain. The nurses were alerted and started to pull me out of the bathroom, sat me on a chair, transferred me on a wheelchair before laying me back on the bed, all through the help of four nurses. I woke up being fanned by ammonia on my face and hearing, "Your colour is coming back."

A good friend stayed for the night so he kept me up and alive in spirit. I thought that it would be splendid to exchange places where I will don casual clothes while he puts on my hospital gown. We wanted to see the nurses’ reactions but because I wasn’t that bad, we aborted the idea.

However, when my friend decided to sleep on the hospital bed and I was eating lunch, a nurse came and went straight to the bed and told my friend to take the medication after lunch. She was confused for a few seconds and then she gave us a big smile. Wink, wink!

“Today, you’ll be getting soup!” and I got two bowls of soup, and I mentioned that it was splendid. When dinner came and I could have something more than soup, it was great. The next day when I received porridge and a piece of sandwich, it was heaven. After being deprived of water and food, whatever was served was a feast.

There were so many kind words and supportive people who accompanied me throughout. The funny jokes exchanged in both operating rooms were witty. The constant visits from an array of nurses greeting me in the morning, exchanging pleasantries in the afternoon, and warm exchanges of conversations in the evening were memorable. The throng of visitors who came and gave me warm wishes were highly appreciated.

To capped it all, as one of the nurses said, "Oh, do not cry, you are a big boy Khun Jonathan. We are here for you." That's all it takes to grow, knowing there are people behind to support, to love, to believe, and to pray for you. I am bless with good people, the Lord is indeed superb!

Many thanks to Ely and Jepoy for the calls, K. Tik and K. Jum for the food, and the parents of my students who visited me and to those who are still hanging food on my garden gate every morning.

It's Tough

2010-09-04T01:00:00.000-07:00

A futile existence
beginning from birth
without love and support
toiled in dirt.

Having no answers
for unequal treats
live and let live
forward, retreat.

Through years passing
feeling no space
the sense of being
had suddenly erased.

With no second thoughts
an opportunity nabbed
off to a new endeavour
all arms to grab.

The first few months
were like solemn indemnity
looking for an image
searching one's identity.

Sadness looming
though sometimes happy
bountiful blessings
nothing to be sorry.

Yet the many years
by far downtrodden
in emotions and sentiments

a fearless existence.

Reminisce the past

enjoy the present

look forward to the future.

Another First

2010-08-31T01:09:00.000-07:00

I am feeling uneasy with the acid reflux I am experiencing for some time now so I opted to find the reason by having an ultrasound done. The result was quite alarming at first but because of the prospect of a non-invasive procedure, I chose to take medications to ease the pain.

The medicines work for a while but recently, the burning sensation in my chest rendered me sleepless for two nights. I went back to the doctor who suggested endoscopy and another one who recommended an immediate surgery. It was disorienting to hear them talk as images of an operating table, blood, incision were racing through my fertile mind.

I remember asking my doctor how long will the incision be and when he answered with, "three days!" I was baffled. I asked if I could do some exercise after the operation and the answer was, "stomach press!" and soon I was swimming in confusion. I raced out of the emergency room and demanded an interpreter so as to be clear of all the things I heard.

I got one and after a long discussion, I went home with weak knees. I took some weeks off from work so that I could take care of my health and decided to undergo the surgery. Today, help came in heaps from the hospital staff. They are very supportive and even appreciate my jokes.

A friend called and I told her that I am enjoying the view of Koh Samed (an island resort in Thailand) right outside my window. I mentioned as well that I am going to have a baby girl through Cesarean section. I have to be in high spirits because I am alone and will have to face another first all by myself.

When I was wheeled at the operating room this morning for endoscopy carrying my bag of extra clothes, I was bombarded by questions. "Are you alone?" "No family or friends?" The nurses were actually amazed that I brought myself to the hospital without any companions, bags and all. The nurses started to offer their support and I shed some tears. I cried not because I was afraid but because I pity myself.

The surgery will be done in a couple of hours as I type this entry and all I am doing is drilling in my mind the words of encouragement and support I am getting from my colleagues in school and from the parents of my students. And when this surgery is done, I'll be back as the strong person again.

I will remember the people who showered me with kindness and support: Dr. Siriwan, Dr. Chairat, Amika, Nattawan, K. Noina, K. Ann, K. Porn, K. Noi and others from Nonthavej hospital; Corinna and the people from my school; the parents of my students in my special tutoring classes such as Voon and Vaan, Motto, Mind and Mint, Tabby and Bambi, and Elle; and friends like Wasan, Pong and Rommel and a special mention to my sister J.

In a way I am bless because I have the resources to care for my well-being and the love of the people that surrounds me. Believe me, it is difficult to be alone in this world but it is more difficult to live without anyone and anything to hold.

Insignificant

2010-08-22T01:00:00.000-07:00

The battering wind and the pouring rain unleashed since two in the morning. By six in the morning, the streets were flooded and the water was knee deep. I opted to walk the long way to reach my work place as it was impossible for a car or a motorbike to pick me up. As I thread the waters of rubbish and dirt, some of the floating matters embraced my legs and I shook them off. The walk was tiring yet the rain that soaked my being refreshed and gave me no opportunity to complain.

I reached the school wet and dirty yet the feeling was different. The short morning challenge was fruitful in terms of battling the odds, in facing the battles of life, in creating a positive mental attitude and in not losing hope.

Some have financial problems while others suffer from physical deficiencies. Each individual faces something which at the start seems inescapable yet with determination and faith, holds the sense of freedom from bonds.

It is very easy to say that a positive mental attitude is all what we need. However, not everyone is blessed to think the same way. The roads taken by some had been oblivious to fear and rejection. For some, they see no light for there’s no one to listen or speak to. So here comes faith, believing that we will go through those odds. Here comes hope, the prospect of seeing a tomorrow. Here comes friendship, the need to be with someone, just ask and be humble.

The flood gave me time to reflect as I wade through the debris and rushing water yet it was insignificant. The lessons learned throughout the experience is, that whatever happens, it is in our power that we survive and that we go on living.

Names Galore

2010-08-18T01:00:00.000-07:00

One of the fascinating things about Thailand is the name given to a new born child. Aside from their proper names, they are given nick names that consists of Thai words which has meanings both literally and creatively.

I remember having a class many years ago where three of my students are named after food: Voon (jelly), Donut and Yam Roll. Then there's the other class, former students of mine called Cookie and her cousin Eclair. Throw in a child named Pizza and another called IceCream and I probably had a party that year.

I was fortunate to have two sets of triplets one year in my teaching career and they are aptly called Neung (one), Song (two), and Sarm (three). The first set of triplets were a boy and two girls while the second one were two boys and one girl. Irregardless of their sex, the names are used to distinguish who was born first among the three siblings. One of the set of triplets got another sibling and you might have guessed his name, Si meaning four.

There are many names given to children of which they bring as they grow old such as Mook, Pim, Nat, Pee, Naam, Shin and the like. Foreign sounding names are also in such as Tempo, Ice, Print, Guitar, Mint, Elle, Gunza, and Music.

I have a colleague whose name is Last because she is the youngest in the family while her brother is named First. My subsitute trainer is named Glang which means middle so I was right when I told him that he must be the middle child. He showed me the photo of his brothers and told me that there are three of them in the family. The eldest is named Yai (big) and the youngest is Lek (small) so put them together, one would have three different sizes. For a while, I stopped and smiled as my intriguing mind was making note whether the sizes would mean another thing. Guess I just have to put the matter into rest since there's no way I will be able to find out, naughty me!

If you are wondering what mine is, I mean, my Thai name, it's Hern Fah.

There's Always a First

2010-08-14T21:40:00.000-07:00

I bought this water plant for many years now. Placed prominently in the middle of my small pond, this Lotus had been producing leaves constantly without giving any flowers for me to appreciate. From the onset of summer and the drying of the pond; it was actually neglected for the most part. The rain had been pouring since last month and out of the blue, I spotted a bulb coming out and then one of the most beautiful creations in the garden emerged, a Lotus flower in the midst of green leaves and murky water. This is a first.

My health is not doing well as I am suffering from a stomach problem. With the inspiring stories told to me by my assistant, I was prompted to see and later joined a local gym. I hired a trainer and had been adamant to attend in the beginning but I am now enjoying the experience. This is a first.

For a year now, I had been trying to ride the motorbike and do find ways to go around the village where I live. I use the bike to do errands such as paying bills, buying food or fruits and for picking up the newspaper or some snacks. Never in my life had I ventured out of the village on my bike. However, the petrol in my bike had been used up. Thanks to my driver who couldn’t come anymore to fill it up, I mustered enough courage and headed out of the village to the nearest petrol station and had the motorbike filled. I was nervous but it was exhilarating riding out of the village with all the cars and trucks and motorcycles alike. This is another first.

All these first time experiences happened this week and I am so glad to have come out of my negligence and fear. For the coming months, I will be attempting more firsts, in a more personal way. Wink, wink!

One Night Only

2010-08-07T01:00:00.000-07:00

In one of my few trips around, I met a certain fellow whom for a reason became friendly to me. Seated across the room in a busy restaurant, the server came and greeted me with a smile. "Long time no see!" "You remember me?" I asked, wondering how he could do that when there had been plenty of people visiting the restaurant everyday. My last visit was a month ago where I asked him how to reach the market as I need to purchase some curtains. His joke of "five hours walk" made me smile and I didn't know that he will remember me for that inquiry.

After paying the bill, he asked if I could pick him up after work as he wanted to go out for dinner. I obliged and even when there was rain, I came on time. We walked through the cobblestone pathway quietly while listening to the pitter patter of the rain. I was holding an umbrella while sharing it with him as he push his bicycle towards a small eatery.

We ordered for some noodles and when everything were finished, the story began. His story was indeed moving, same old tales spoken and told by most. While I listened to his woes but with eagerness to survive, I was moved by his honesty and his sharing without barriers.

The rain stopped and we parted ways. While he threaded the walkway towards home I looked back and simply admired his way of thinking. There he was, a mere stranger, wanting a new life. His strength and will to free himself from the bondage of poverty and start life anew in that city had given me a new perspective of what I should be aiming for.

That night, the man wanted someone to listen, and I did. That night, I myself was transformed. My problems are nothing compared to his. I must be thankful. I must learn to give.

Great Beginning, Bad Ending

2010-07-31T04:47:00.000-07:00

I was quiet in my living
when a rather peculiar start
stirred and brought an idea
an offer to be one.

I was enthralled for the honesty
and the well organized plans
to live and behold
from now till the end.

But what of being naive
and lacking of judgment
in my part believing
what of truth is not.

I have thought that I will be
in love, a different person
yet I gave myself to insanity
for one simple promise.

And when the hammer was thrown
the verdict was read
all of these but illusions
a trick, a trap, devoid of emotions.

For none of what was shared
had shed some light
the beginning was beautiful
the rest were not.

So now in my quiet existence
lest someone disturbed again
a stern look unwavering
to give not, a second chance.

Just One Letter

2010-07-28T01:00:00.000-07:00

I don't get much of letters and e-mails but when I do, it speaks so powerful that I am prompted to share, I mean, publish as to add this piece in my digital diary for keeps.

The one week we stayed in your home was very exciting, fun, happy and also with a touch of sadness. Sadness because it also pains me to see that you're living alone with nobody to take care of your needs like morning breakfast and simple things but I guess that what makes you stronger, as long as you find solemnity and peace in your place, I'll always be happy for you.

The short time we spent together is almost endless to me, you are not just a brother but also a good friend. My family and I will always treasure all the times we spent together.

I wish I could answer all the questions we always ask regarding our family but I guess some things are better off if we just let it be. Always remember that no matter what they say, you are my brother and I'm so damn proud of it! Nobody can change that and I thank God for making you my brother. Please take care of your health always, choose well your friends, and be strong as always.

Lovely isn't it.

The Flower

2010-07-07T01:00:00.000-07:00

The Flower is currently my fave book since I acquired a copy last winter break. It tells the story of Brigg, who works in a library, accidentally finding a book about flowers. It is a non-existent thing for him and for the rest of the people in the city. He is so fascinated with the book that for some twist of faith, found some seeds and planted them. Thus the start of a new, bright place to live.

The story is written to remind us as to what could happen in the future. As one of my students commented, "It's a very sad story.". Yes, and indeed true. The illustrations by Lisa Evans are dramatic and very appealing. She is a talented artist and each page evokes the emotions and feelings most likely wanted by the author John Light to express.

I have heard about a safe shelter built for flower seeds and things from nature. The world is getting ready for some changes. It is saddening to know that most will be lost and even with our tremendous work of future preservation and conservation, the change is inevitable.

The beauty of yesteryears could be maintained if we do our contribution. It need not be big, for little deeds put together is a heap.

Not Funny

2010-07-01T01:00:00.000-07:00

I was reading a book to my students when suddenly two of the girls started giggling. I stopped as I was reading a serious part of the story where the girl was crying and telling her grand mom about the situation. I asked the girls the reason for the giggling and they said, "The story is sad but your face is funny."

I was in a play many years ago and I enjoyed that moment of my life where I get to play multiple roles and be seen by my students and people I work with. It was a blast afterwards. I walked around the school campus and everyone would just remarked, "Great job! You were so funny!"

I met a person years ago and he enjoys my company so much not because of the wisdom I could impart but because I give him the most funny faces ever as answer to his illogical remarks and observations. I remember him asking me to do the face over and over again. "Please do it, you look so funny!"

I could have been a clown, working in a circus and surrounded by many people. I could have been an entertainer or a comedian in a cafe bar because of my wit and sense of humour. I could be an emcee because of my quick remarks and banters.

My life is not a carnival of events. It is a facade. I may be puckered up and painted with a giant smile on my face but I am always hurting inside. Just like a comedian who has the knack to make people laugh, I am but a simple person whose dark moments shine during quiet times. I am also beset with worries. Just like the emcee whose life is probably filled with excitement and news, I am but a print whose relevance is only at the moment.

Despite the funny face I can muster, I am the complete opposite when I am alone. I cry watching movies when I hear words of wisdom about family, about friendships, and about love. I simply dismiss togetherness seen when I spend dinner time at food courts. I walk without stop when I visit markets passing groups of friends or people being together. I choose to stay home rather than socialize because I am tired to share.

I lost something along the way. I long for something I don't have or had missed. I am born different. I am a paradox and a master of disguise. Simply put, the things in my life are not fun and not funny at all.

Adverbs

2010-06-27T01:00:00.000-07:00

Abruptly,
without any warnings
unmanageable tears.

Bitterly,
the image projected
monstrous in retrospect.

Continuosly,
the eerie silence of loneliness
permeates what's not invited.

Deliberately,
ways made to simply lure
ends to empty roads.

Evidently,
no amount of sensitivity
could soften rational minds.

Fictitiously,
the image portrayed
is but a fairy tale.

Gradually,
the sight of togetherness
bring nothing but pain.

Haltingly,
skips and turns make none
of logic but confusion.

Incidentally,
these bickering falls
to deaf ears unwanted.

Justifiably,
in the quest for peace
death is the answer.

Sometimes we just surrender...
or we teach ourselves to stop.

No Thank You?

2010-06-21T01:00:00.000-07:00

When the day was over and we were dismissed earlier than usual, the people in my school hurriedly picked their things and headed to their day's plan: home, lunch dates, children affairs, and others. I remained in school for another hour because I have nowhere to go.

Later, I decided that going back home early and do my household chores would be better rather than feeling low and thinking of incompetence. I was expecting some grateful remarks from a couple of parents whose children were my greatest challenge this year but to no avail. It was an expectation and when it wasn't met, I felt bad. I retreated to my garden.

When I swept the fallen leaves in the garden, it reminded me of the children that passed through my care. As I gathered the leaves in a heap, I remembered building the skills and knowledge throughout the span of a school year. So that when the yard was cleaned, I appreciated my effort and I felt better.

Maybe the art of saying thank you is dying for some of the great demands of everyday make the parents appreciate less and less. Anyway, at the end of the day I am still glad that some of the children walked away that day saying, "Thank you for being my teacher!" with great, big hugs.

To Cut a Rose

2010-06-15T01:00:00.000-07:00

Given to me by my housekeeper, the rose was neglected as it was overpowered by the surrounding plants. So when I started clearing the space, I found this rose plant and nurtured it again. The plant is now bigger and flowering continuosly for months now.

Now, it is known that once a rose wither and turn brown, it is time to cut the withered part so that new stems may grow. Now, I do this religiously because I have taken for granted a beauty that had been growing in my garden for two years.

During my quiet moments, I suddenly realized that there had been many instances in my life that I had neglected and cut off my ties with people that cares for me and that I care. Busy? No, but it was the mere fatigue and stress of everyday living that rots me away. This is a realization and a wake up call. I am being selfish.

Though roses have thorns, the roses in my life had been always there in good times and bad times. My friends had made promises to support me wherever and whenever I needed them. They are always around and I do feel their presence though sometimes, I simply care less.

My roses in life continue to bloom around so I am thankful for their continued assistance. Thank you once again for being there: family, friends, colleagues, students, and parents.

Summing the Year Up

2010-06-07T16:42:00.000-07:00

There will be two words most appropriate to describe the school year that just ended - difficult and out most challenging. In a way, I started with new students still on the lookout for friends, or should I say, friendships even though the children were in the same class last school year.

With all the difficulties come the expectation that one day, all these will have a result and results were then accomplished. The children had opened up, are confident than ever, more verbal and polished in words, had achieved a better insight of what the world is about and what to expect in a bigger school. The tools that were laid became their instruments to move forward and be what they are right now. It might not be the knowledge but the skills that played a big role towards their positive development.

I will look back at the school year and smile. The hardships I encountered with each and every whims, tricky situations, unresolved issues, behavioural challenges and the like will serve as a scaffold for improving my craft, thus for me, to become a better teacher and a more responsible person.

I would like to acknowledge all the help and support from the parents and teachers around me. I would like to send my appreciation and wishes of good luck to all my students. I would like to dedicate the whole year to the Almighty for making my students thirst for knowledge and for making me hunger for perfection.

The Way You See Things

2010-06-04T01:00:00.000-07:00

Negate the positive
thy toil in life
to see the badness
in rift and strife.

Oh such changes
however pure
impress you not
for there is no cure.

A glass half full
is no good to see
it's always half empty
you won't let it be.

The fondness inside
of people galore
pick up the silliness
no space for candor.

Thy smile I see
is fake to the brim
for your vision has
no light, oh so dim.

For each around you
is a person so rich
so bright a spark
you extinguish the wick.

So life is full of bounty
of candor and glee
yet your vision is blurred
one direction to see.

Not all around is bad. There will always be something good, one just have to see through it.

A Garden Poem

2010-05-30T01:00:00.000-07:00

Fusing art and literacy, the children in my class did a wonderful poem to celebrate our project on "A Dialogue With Nature". Simple yet meaningful, the art piece brings joy and a feeling of contentment.

Hello, Goodbye!

2010-05-23T01:00:00.000-07:00

An e-mail, a call
from long time absence.

Surprise, recall
a logical sequence.

A meet, to seek
each company's pleasure.

A date, complete
to treat like a treasure.

A day, a week
smiles and exchanges.

To make, to seek
our living collages.

The time, the end
abrupt and so sudden

A foe, a friend
used then forgotten.

In Your Absence

2010-05-14T01:00:00.000-07:00

Make your presence felt
in the midst of many unknown faces.

Raise your soul through
in the quiet solitude of unspoken bliss.

Shine your beacon bright
to lead me to your guided path.

Manifest your love pure
delight that fills the empty vessel.

Share your wisdom deep
to make me see life's paradoxes.

Deliver your good intents
so as to bridge gaps widening.

Dawn your soul within
the deep embers of my existence.

Your presence miss,
your absence felt,
your coming most awaited.

Mother, One and Only

2010-05-09T01:00:00.000-07:00

"I have a surprise for you mom. A necklace!"
"How small!"
"Would you like me to put it around you."
"It doesn't matter."
"Ok, here you are. Bye!"

I left my mom's place bitter and crying. I just couldn't stand the snobbish acceptance every time I have something to give her. My heart was being slashed for each and every word I heard.

"Ma, some money to keep. By the way, where's the necklace I gave you?"
"You gave me one? I don't recall."
"Mom, I gave you one and you didn't even say thank you."
"I don't remember."

Again, I turned my back and cried. This time, the tears were really running down my cheeks not because she wasn't interested with the necklace but because she is losing her memory. She is becoming sickly caused by her many years of battle with diabetes, a tumor growing inside her breast, and cataract. I retreated to my silent mode , still with tears in my eyes as I leave the house. It was unbearable.

I remember my mom teaching me how to draw pictures when I was young. I remember drawing a cockroach and had never forgotten the steps she showed me. I remember my mom waking up early in the morning so as to prepare breakfast, help us with our school uniforms and send us to the school bus. I remember her running to the streets when she heard that I was hit by a bus. I remember her sobbing when my dad was mad at her for being beautiful.

I remember lots of things but she doesn't anymore. The memories we built throughout these lifetime will cease to exist. Good that there were photographs and stories that had kept the memories intact so that when we have the time to sit down again, I'll show the photos and tell her the stories and reminisce all the good times.

I do regret not being with her all the time, in sickness, in pain, and even in good health. My chosen path was brought about by my inner desire to escape and build my own life. Yet in my separation with her, she is always thought of and loved for all eternity. She brought me up to become a fine individual who love, care, and respect not only the people around me but also God.

I dedicate the day to her marvellous life as a mother to me, HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY!

Turning Grey

2010-05-05T01:00:00.000-07:00

The discussion that permeates the air was not really disturbing but it was an awareness that people age. It was actually pleasant to talk about growing old. The apprehensions of having grey hair, sagging body parts, memory relapse and the lost of friends are topics of the natural order. They are part of what is to happen to everyone.

The mystery that surrounds the dying tree had been a welcome discussion among the children in my class. Most suggested plenty of sun and rain for the tree to grow back its leaves. Some even suggested making paper leaves to hang or glue among the tree's branches. Everyone was concerned about its condition but they all understood that if the tree is sickly or old, then there was a tendency for the tree to die. The tree had given us shade from the scorching heat of the afternoon sun during outside play. The tree had given us flowers during its blooming season. The tree had given us joy as we recreated its shadows through art and during our study about gardens.

Our growth as a person is a celebration of our existence in this world. Our learning throughout are the glory we seek and earn. Our fellowship with people is the glue towards individuality and uniqueness. Our journeys are measures of our being human and humane. Our contributions become crowns of respect, commitment and responsibility.

The greatest part of growing old is the attitude towards it. We grow old and we should strive to grow old gracefully. We look at the world not as a burden but as a journey towards what is best not only for ourselves but also for others.

The tree in the school's garden served its purpose. Our lives should serve a purpose as well. It is in living that we learn to accept death. It is dying that we begin eternal life.