Are you a ‘Philippine’?

Amusement was written all over my face when I first heard this question in Jakarta airport. For fear of being asked more questions though which might lead to deportation, I just opted to merely nod my head in agreement. The next time I was asked this question was in an international Christian school where I would be spending two years of my life as a teacher. I then launched into lengthy discussion what the people in the Philippines are called. I explained that the country where I came from is called as Philippines but the people are called as Filipinos.

Soon enough though, I got tired explaining. Indonesians simply refer Filipinos as ‘Philippine’. Who started it? I have no vaguest idea.

However, what the ‘Philippine’ means to this country was slowly unfolded for almost four months of my stay here. I was in Carrefour with a friend one time and I was inquiring about modem when I was asked again that famous question, ‘Are you a Philippine?’ Of course, I just smiled and said yes. One of them scurried off looking for somebody who can talk to me in English. Something was very evident- respect and admiration.

The warmth hospitality of Indonesians whenever they ask me if I am a Philippine did not end in the airport, groceries, or in the school where I am teaching.

It was during the end of the year holiday last June that I was able to completely grasp what the word Philippine means for them. Being left alone in the huge house was not in my vocabulary so I endured the travel almost everyday just to stay with my friends in Citra Garden and City Resort. I traveled by taxi and though I have this habit of pretending to sleep as soon as I give the address for fear of being asked so many questions, the effort was futile. Taxi drivers in Indonesia have this warm personality that they seem to know that I am, a Philippine. As soon as I nod my head, the smile is instant, the respect is written all over their faces.

One taxi driver who knows how to speak little English told me, ‘Philippine’ teachers are very good. They speak English so clearly and all those who come from the Philippines are teachers.

The conversation with that driver was only the beginning of many other encounters affirming his statement. It’s overwhelming how highly respected the Filipinos are in this country. In my four months of stay here, I noticed that Filipinos have two kinds of jobs here- either teachers or administrators. It is no wonder then that Filipinos are receiving this kind of deference from this country.

When I traveled to Singapore twice for processing of my papers, I did miss that instantaneous smile and admiration whenever I affirm that I am indeed a Philippine.

The high regard for Filipinos is highly evident in this country. If it were not for the warmth hospitality of the Indonesians, I would have found it impossibly difficult to adjust in a country where most people don’t speak English. But, their always ready smile helped me a lot with my adjustment here. The kindness emanates from school to roads, and odd places where you would never expect to find good people. Surprisingly, I am in a foreign country but I feel safer traveling even late at night knowing how much respect we are getting here.

I have only spent four months here, but the love and kindness of the Indonesians has rubbed off this wave of inspiration in me to spread the richness of their culture, the kindness of their heart, and the simplicity of their lives.

Now, I no longer feel amused whenever I receive that kind of question. Early today, after spending days in a friend's house and on my way back to my own place, the taxi driver told me, "Oh, Philippine. Very good ya." I just smiled kindly at him. I know Philippine connotes something which I must be so proud of- respect. 

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Crossroads of Destiny (My Student's Essay about Me)

I promised myself that once I return to blogging, I would do it regularly. However, this day was such a busy day so I never had time to write a new blog entry. While cleaning up my files, I found this feature written by my former 3rd year high school student, Chryz Angelo Jonathan Bagsic, currently a college of medicine student at the University of the Philippines. His words are truly gems of wisdom so I decided to post it here...

Again, thank you Chryz for this.

Crossroads of Destiny

Chryz Angelo Jonathan Bagsic 

Students happily chatting and rushing. Bells ringing. Everything brand new: pencils, books, bags, pens and others. Everyone was seemingly nervous while introducing themselves. What day is it? It is the first day of class.

The same scenario occurred on that unforgettable day when I was in grade six. I was surrounded by a crowd of happy faces, but that did not bother me at all. What bothered me most was my dark complexion, with a dry and flaky skin; obviously, a result of the sun’s scorching rays. In other words, I was sunburnt.

I was busily chatting with my friends when an astounding lady in black entered. She was wearing a black coat and black slacks. I half- expected her to wear black glasses, as part of her motif. She looked so professional and high- esteemed. The way she entered our room froze the noisy class, and automatically made us greeted her with a smile on our faces… an angel who manifested in her human form.

She introduced herself as Niña A. Buena from Naga City. She was our new adviser. She was beautiful, though I felt like she imposed an unreasonable strictness. She told stories about herself, her former students, and her life and experiences in Naga, along with all her talents and abilities, much like a walking curriculum vitae. At first, I felt like she was boasting but soon, I learned that all things she said would be helpful someday.

That year marked the blossoming of a happy year. We had a really pleasant experience with each other. However, she may be extremely temperamental at times, often leading to her saying the class- renowned words of hers, “Ignatius! My God!” Despite her usual indignation and anger at St. Ignatius, my section, we eventually learned to love her as our second mother.

Her loving nature easily encapsulates our worrying and afraid heart, and so, we felt very comfortable. She is very caring, and to some extent, let me use the word “vigilant”, for our safety. She motivates us most of the time, by using various quotes from blockbuster movies like, “There are no accidents in life.” from Kung Fu Panda; and “With great power comes great responsibility.” from Spiderman. She is really amazing, for she is able to enchant our last year in the lower grades with a special spark which made us eager to learn more.

“There are no accidents in life.” That’s what she always says. She is a true perfectionist, and she taught me a great thing” never to use “etc.” for it means “end of thinking capacity.”

Well, till I reached second year high school, Teacher Niña was my teacher, and she really touched my life. She is one splendid teacher, overly dedicated to nurture the abilities and talents of her students. The way she entered my life was sudden, but she instantly touched it with flocks of motivation and quotations. Truly, the deep friendship this eleemosynary woman created will never fade, and will be cherished through the years.

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Faces of Poverty

Clad in dirty clothes, oversized shirts, and barefooted, they walked in groups or sometimes wander alone like lost children in a big city. Mothers carry their babies staring at you with begging eyes. Other times, you would hear them knocking at the car windows singing while entreating for alms. It was a sight so repulsive that looking at them is such a big sore in the eyes.

Now, don’t get me wrong. I have nothing against them nor do they look so gross because of their appearance. It is their situation which somehow fills me with incredulity as I think of what the government is doing to alleviate their quandaries in life. Though truth be told, no government can totally eradicate these impoverished people, I can’t help but to think also what can be done to at least ease their malady. 

The same thing is true in the Philippines where poverty can be seen in many people in the streets. The faces of destitution are too much to comprehend. Poverty is the greatest illness of the society. If it can’t be addressed, it is the very thing that would bring down the country.

Whenever I look at these unfortunate people in the streets and some major roads of Indonesia, I can’t help but to wonder how can one be a catalyst for change to combat this infirmity of the society. Perhaps, something may be started with a simple practice of sensitivity. Now, don’t ask me how to do it because it is something that must come from the heart.

Poverty comes in different forms. But, the worst kind is seen with the poverty in spirit. Something that we need to focus on if we want to address the different issues of these less fortunate people not only here in Indonesia but in other countries facing the same difficulty.

I wish that I can look at their faces one day no longer feeling the pity but hope.

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Traverse in Diversity (First Time in Indonesia as an Expat)

More than a month after gazing at the city of lights from the window of the plane bound to bring me in Indonesia on that fateful night of April 22, I couldn’t help but to reminisce the indescribable feeling that enveloped me at that time. I remember wiping my tears when I thought of my Mother whom I have taken cared of for many years and I needed to leave in the Philippines. The uncertainties of what the country would bring me were too overwhelming to even think about. I am starting anew in a foreign country and the experience might be a bit heady but definitely exhilarating.

For one month, I was transported into the world of discovery as my eyes were awakened with different cultures and languages. I must admit that when I first laid eyes in Indonesia, I fell in love with the people. I remember asking the security guard the moment we finished in immigration how far is the place that I was supposed to stay in. He replied in Bahasa, a language so foreign to me and yet I could feel his kindness so whether I understood him or not didn’t really matter.

Taken in Makassar, one of the provinces of Indonesia. The trip was a treat from one of the parents of our students. 

The next experience was being enclosed in an elevator with people speaking in Bahasa, English and Chinese- the three languages that seem to be commonly spoken here.

The first ride in the taxi alone was very challenging also. The driver couldn’t understand English and we both resorted to silence after I gave him the address of the school where I needed to go. The next instructions were given using hand signals. However, challenging as it may, there was never a time that I met a taxi driver who was rude or disrespectful. 

That seemed to be the common trait of Indonesians as I vividly recall last May 1 when the driver of the school car braved the traffic and some flooded roads on the way to the apartment where I was staying. He drove in silence though tired since it was already late at night but never did he utter a complaint or frowned even when the car halted several times.

For one month now, I go to school dealing with people speaking different languages- Bahasa, English, Chinese, Thai, and of course, Filipino. The challenge that dealing with different languages pose seemed to be nothing compared with facing differences in cultures. Everyday, I need to remind myself that respect is the key to understanding. There are times that the acts may be somehow rude in the perspective of the Filipinos especially how I was raised, but I am learning to embrace everything as part of God’s magnificent plans for me. I learned not to harbor ill feelings since most of the times, the people I meet are kind and good-hearted people especially the Indonesians. It's overwhelming how much respect they have for Filipino teachers.

Everyday, I wake up with a thankful heart for being in this country. I met new friends, found new families, and my faith to God is further being deepened.

Being in an international school is both a blessing and a challenge. I take everything in stride and I appreciate more the blessings since I know that I would learn in the process. I am thankful that I don’t need to traverse alone in diversities of languages and cultures. I am blessed to be part of a community where I would not only grow intellectually but most especially spiritually.

Cliché as it may sound, the roads are truly long and arduous. But, I know, God’s graces would continue to be with me and make each day a blessing in diversity.

Being an expat in Indonesia has given me so many opportunities more than I could ever imagine.

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Blaming God Vs Faith

Dear God,

As futile as it may sound, I want to say sorry for constantly blaming you in everything bad that happened to me. It seems such a long time ago when I started doing it that I lost count of the instances I needed to blame you so as to feel better.

I vividly remember that first time I was crying feeling so despondent when I was about six years old because of being scolded by my brother. I blamed you then. At my age, I was thinking that ‘God’ could do everything so you must be responsible for my pain.

That time when my mother brought me to this rich relative and she was showing off high-tech appliances, I blamed you then. Why did you not make us richer so we could have things like what they enjoyed?

When my two sisters and I had chicken pox and I had the most severe case, I blamed you then. How could you see me suffering with all the blisters on my little body?

During one of the times that I was walking on the way to school, and my shoe opened up. I looked up and sighed blaming you again. Why couldn’t you give me enough to have a decent life?

When disappointments over family matters came in succession and I was feeling helpless to do anything about them, I blamed you then. I was old enough to understand things but not wise enough to acknowledge you had nothing to do with our problems since we were responsible for our own actions.

During one essay writing contest and I was praying so intently to win because of the prize and I failed, I blamed you then. How could you deny me of the very things I needed so badly?

When I had barely enough to finance my college education, I blamed you then. How could you repudiate something I was dreaming of since I was a kid?

On that cold night of December 19, 2002, when I got home from a grand Christmas party and I saw my father lifeless in his room covered with a blanket, I blamed you then. I was too angry. Why did you not even let me say my final goodbye to him?

With tears flooding my sheet in the hospital, I blamed you then. Why did you inflict me with a silent scourge that brought me the biggest and the most profound kind of pain ever imaginable physically and mentally?

Then, came one of the biggest blows. My brother died and again I was not able to say my goodbye. With bleeding heart, I blamed you then. Why did you take him 30 minutes before we arrived in the hospital?

More disappointments. More tears. More pains. More sufferings. More blame.

However, never was it known that you leave me whenever I lay the blame on your shoulders. Never that you made me feel that I needed to take the brunt of the blows of life alone. I failed to acknowledge everything that you have done for me because I was too busy blaming you.

I forgot that with all their flaws and imperfections, you have given me a family who have accepted me and supported me in everything. I forgot that without them, I wouldn’t have survived all the ordeals of my life.

I forgot also, that I lost counts of the times that you listened to my prayers to succeed in everything I do. After that essay writing contest wherein I failed, you have given me much more than I would pray for. Medals, trophies, certificates, rare recognitions, YOU gave them all to me. There was even a time that I thought, what? I won? Really? Is God playing favorite? Too many times that winning was impossible yet you made them happen. Because of Your unfailing love for me, you have built these stairways that would pave way for my dreams in life.

I was too busy blaming you that I failed to acknowledge the wisdom of everything. Life is much more colorful and beautiful because of all those intricacies I needed to go through.

I did not only finish college but also my Masters degree. Since graduation, you did not give me any difficulty at all in looking for a job. I had my first job like a dream-a director who was like a father, school officials who are good friends, and co-teachers who made me feel many times they were proud of my accomplishments. After three days of officially resigning, you have opened another door for me to rediscover myself in my second job. Then offer came right after I submitted my resignation letter in my second job. You are too busy making me feel blessed that I lost sight of what is truly essential. Being thankful in all my blessings in life.

But, with all the blames, I never lost faith in You. You have silently held my hands to assure me that you’re busy working for what is good for me. I didn’t get all the paradise of life. But, You did make me feel that I didn’t need to go through difficult times alone.

Dear God, life is a lot better because of You. Life in the future will definitely be more challenging. Probably more pains and disappointments. Maybe my expectations will be crushed to the ground with nothing but bitter regrets left in my heart. But, I know one thing will remain constant, You.

I’m sorry for all the blames. Now, I am ready to move on in another chapter of my life. Thank you for making me strong and never giving up on me.

Love,
Your ‘Not Anymore Lost Child’

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