
Friday, July 17, 2009
MONEY Management Seminar at Insular Life, Imus, Cavite

Wednesday, May 27, 2009
Deserving Grace
This article was originally published in Mr. Sonny Coloma's column, VECTOR, in the Business World Online on May 22, 2009 (Manila time). He has given Barangay OFW his kind permission to re-publish this article. You may reach him at sonny_coloma@yahoo.com
"The people deserve the kind of government they want" is a timeless maxim on democracy. If we choose wisely and well, we may yet deserve to have a national leader like Isabela Gov. Ma. Grace Cielo Magno Padaca who was honored by the Ramon Magsaysay Memorial Foundation as its 2008 awardee for outstanding public service.
"When I was elected governor in 2004," she told members of the Financial Executives Institute of the Philippines (FINEX) the other day, "I thanked God, saying, ‘Lord I was only joking. I did not expect you to take me seriously!’ "
But after 40 years of the Dy family’s hegemony, voters in Isabela chose wisely and well. Against the three Gs — guns, goons, and gold — they elected a polio-stricken broadcaster as their new leader.
Thus did Ms. Grace complete the transition from 1) CPA -- Certified Public Accountant (she graduated magna cum laude in BS Accountancy from Lyceum University) to 2) CPA -- Courageous Public Announcer (14 years as a broadcaster with Radio Bombo), and finally, to 3) CPA -- Competent Public Administrator (second-term governor of Isabela and Magsaysay laureate).
She was reelected in 2007, with a slimmer winning margin, but she felt vindicated. "This was sweeter than when I first won," she said, "because the people reelected me on the basis of my performance, and not anymore on my promises."
With prudent fiscal management, Isabela was able to pay off more than 80% of its more than half-billion-peso debts to the Land Bank, Philippine National Bank, and DBP.
She increased farm productivity by providing subsidies to rice and corn farmers. Isabela is the largest corn-producing province and the second largest rice producer. Her administration was also able to enroll more than 100,000 Isabelinos in PhilHealth so that they now enjoy medical insurance benefits.
She has introduced transparency and accountability. Awards of contracts and release of checks to contractors are publicized in the provincial capitol. Businesspersons and investors have found it profitable to do business and invest in the province because they need not pay bribes or incur unnecessary costs due to corrupt practices of government officials. She urged people to report to her directly any anomalies in government transactions.
But the road to the governorship was rough, bumpy, and fraught with danger. She was immobilized by polio at the age of three.
Her parents, both educators, gave her many books to read. She recalls reading stories about honesty, industry, truth, and fairness — and these filled her mind with positive thoughts and inspired her to dream of an auspicious future.
One of her dreams was to be a radio announcer, a job where she could be heard even if not seen. She went on to join Bombo Radyo where she had a daily three-hour program from Monday to Saturday. Her focus was "the abusive way by which resources of government were being squandered" by political "gremlins" that "seemed to forget that power is not theirs as a birthright."
Instead of being frustrated about not being able to do anything about irregularities that were being committed openly, she decided to seek public office.
"At least," she mused, "even if I lose, I will have peace of mind." She lost in 2001 and ran again in 2004, aware that she could lose then and probably lose two or three more elections before making significant headway in her crusade for good government.
She had an epiphany: "If fear is contagious, courage is also contagious." She urged her province mates to overcome their fear:
"Huwag kayong maawa sa akin dahil ako’y isang pilay at mahina. Maawa kayo sa inyong mga sarili at sa inyong mga anak kung wala kayong magawa kahit mas malakas at masigla ang inyong katawan kaysa sa akin."
("Don’t pity me because I am paralyzed and weak. Have mercy on yourselves and on your children if you can’t do anything despite the fact that you are healthier than I am.")
"What they saw in me was not my weakness, but my strength," she recalls.
Another important realization on her part is that, "People in government wield tremendous power. With just one signature, I could mobilize millions in pesos in resources. If used judiciously, political power may be harnessed to empower people and lift them from poverty."
Thus, she urged the executives in the audience to go into public service themselves, or encourage those who they know can become competent public servants.
Her speech followed a pitch for voter education especially among the youth. "But if the educated voters do not have credible choices among the candidates, even your best efforts may come to naught," she said.
"Those who think themselves to be too smart to run for public office are doomed to be governed by those who are too dumb. Elect the right people," was her spirited pitch. "Look at me," she said, "I am the embodiment of the power of the people expressed through the ballot."
When asked about her biggest asset and her worst liability, her replies elicited warm applause. She said that her staffers call her "Excel Governor" because she always required spreadsheets depicting relevant information and figures, especially when she deals with requests for assistance from barangay officials. Her attention to details (a discipline she acquired as an accountant) enables her to allocate scarce resources judiciously according to the real needs of her constituents.
But she longs for the gentler and kinder days when, as a private citizen, she received abundant care and attention from friends.
She plods on with great courage and determination. When she first won, only three out of 36 mayors supported her; now, the ratio is reversed. Only three have not reached out to her and two of these are members of the political dynasty that she ousted from power.
She is mindful of the need to build common ground even among erstwhile adversaries. "Maybe my being a dispassionate accountant is also one of my strengths; I never take differences personally against anyone." Instead of wooing political rivals, she said she would rather focus on serving the needs of her province mates.
When will we ever deserve the grace of having a national leader (president, vice president or senator) in the mold of Governor Grace Padaca?
Only when we have the courage to elect competent and dedicated public servants like her — and reject the empty enticements of well-entrenched politicians who have all brought our country and us on the road to perdition.
Comments may be sent to sonny_coloma@yahoo.com
If you would like to send a message to Gov. Grace Padaca you can text her at +63-919-3533-222 or send an email to kayanatin@yahoo.com
Monday, May 11, 2009
Alert OFW Lady Foils NAIA ‘Magician’
by Flori Tuazon
Sweden
She was overjoyed the moment she saw the smiling face of our daughter Melanie. Melanie who has recently learned how to drive had come to fetch her mother from NAIA.
My wife Marilyn spent most of her short visit caring for her sick mother and playing with our young grandchildren.
Time flew and Marilyn had to depart the Philippines on April 26, 2009. Melanie took her mother to NAIA where they said bitter-sweet goodbyes and embraced each other tightly and lovingly.
After checking in at the airline counter, Marilyn proceeded to the Bureau of Immigration area for the usual passport and visa check. She chose to line up behind a counter manned by Immigration Officer ‘Mukhang-Dolyar.’
The name of the immigration officer rang an alarm bell in Marilyn’s head and she wanted to change lanes. But she would have to go to the end of a kilometric line, so she stayed put.
Marilyn keeps her passport in a leather passport wallet with a zipped-up side pocket. Before leaving her mother’s house on that day, she put some dollar bills in the fabulous amount of US$70.00 in the zipped-up side pocket of her leather passport wallet.
Marilyn prayed that her transaction with Immigration Officer ‘Mukhang-Dolyar’ would be uneventful. And so it was, she thought. But she was wrong.
From the immigration counter, Marilyn went directly to her boarding gate. A few minutes after settling down in the departure lounge, she felt thirsty and wanted to buy bottled water. She took her passport wallet from her handbag to pay for the bottle of water. To her embarrassment, there wasn’t any dollar bill in the zipped-up side pocket of her passport wallet. It was empty.
After apologizing to the sales clerk, she sat down and collected her thoughts. As sure as she was sitting there at the NAIA, she knew that she had put US$70 in the zipped-up side pocket of her passport wallet.
Who else aside from her had access to her passport wallet? Immigration Officer ‘Mukhang-Dolyar’!!!
Marilyn rushed out of the departure lounge to go back to the desk of this NAIA ‘magician.’ She nearly bumped into the duty airport police officer whom she promptly asked for assistance. Together, they approached Immigration Officer ‘Mukhang-Dolyar.’
Mr. NAIA ‘Magician’ feigned innocence at first. But my wife Marilyn stepped on her gas pedal, so to speak, and screeched and screamed and shrieked! Soon, a crowd gathered around the desk of Immigration Officer ‘Mukhang-Dolyar.’
Mr. NAIA ‘Magician’ came to the rescue of his invisible twin, Immigration Officer ‘Mukhang-Dolyar.’ He pretended to look for the US dollar bills among his things, then bent down and – surprise! – found the fabulous amount of US$70.00 on the floor. He gave it back to my wife with a sheepish grin.
Mr. Regalado Medalla, the Duty Immigration Supervisor, noticed the commotion and approached the desk of Immigration Officer ‘Mukhang-Dolyar.’ Mr. Medalla asked my wife, the duty airport police officer, and Immigration Officer ‘Mukhang-Dolyar’ to come with him to the Immigration Office in the airport.
My wife Marilyn argued that it was impossible for her dollar bills to fall out of her passport wallet because they were inside the zipped-up side pocket. Accusing Immigration Officer ‘Mukhang-Dolyar’ of theft, Marilyn insisted that her complaint be written down in the airport police blotter.
Mr. Regalado Medalla, the Duty Immigration Supervisor, promised Marilyn that the Immigration Office would pursue the matter and would not let Immigration Officer ‘Mukhang-Dolyar’ off the hook. Mr. Medalla advised Marilyn to follow up her complaint.
As Marilyn was leaving the Immigration Office to catch her flight, Immigration Officer ‘Mukhang-Dolyar’ clasped his hands on his chest and begged Marilyn to have pity on him. He might lose his job.
As Christians, my wife and I do pity Immigration Officer ‘Mukhang-Dolyar.’ We don’t want him to lose his job. But he doesn’t deserve his job as an immigration officer at the NAIA. Surely, there are many upright men and women who can be recruited for the job Mr. ‘Mukhang-Dolyar’ will lose.
Since Mr. ‘Mukhang-Dolyar’ is gifted with sleight of hand, he will surely find a niche as a clown and magician in children’s parties!
Tuesday, April 7, 2009
Please… bring the family with you
I have been working overseas since 1986. For more than 20 years, my children grew from toddlers to kids to adults without me. Now, my eldest got married. When requested for advice to the newly wed, I said: "Please… bring the family with you. There should be no compromise." Why is it that so?
The Wedding
I was excited. I never thought that as a father I would have the chance walking my daughter to the altar resplendent in a Barong Tagalog sewn purposely for the wedding. Forgetting this was a solemn ceremony, I jokingly whispered to my daughter: "Let's walk in a hurry lest the groom might change his mind". But she didn't hear me, she's 29.
As I sat clasping the hands of my wife, I couldn't help remembering the more than 20 years I labored without them – the jewels in my life at my side: my eldest whom I fondly called Honey, Beybs, my second, Iyay, my youngest, and my lovely wife with whom I proudly call 'Agom' which in bicolano dialect literally means 'spouse'.
The Betrothal
It was last December the betrothal was arranged. The entire family of the would-be groom came to our house to get the nod from me and my wife – Mama Nil. It was not a nod only from both of us. I did asked all my brothers and sisters in the area to come; my parents too were with me since noontime so with my foster mother who's too excited and kept guessing what the other family would be saying as if this event was a sort of a negotiation between agreeing parties. The nod was more like a family blessing. Moreover, this is the first a girl in the family would be engaged. I wanted to experience a beautiful Filipino tradition in this century of iphones and nokia.
A day before, I told my wife to tell our daughter to ask the would-be groom how many from his family would come so we could prepare for the exact food to eat. (Gone were those days of my grandfather not knowing how many would eat ordered a whole pig roasted and employed a chef to cook several menus because my would-be uncle and his family were coming to propose engagement to my grandfather's daughter (my auntie). We ended giving foods to our neighbors and friends because the other side brought the same quantity or more). The reply was only three – meaning the would-be groom, the mother and the father. I said in jest the three would be talking to my entire family. But I anticipated more would come and I was right. We had the food enough to feed everyone, not more but not less.
Four months before, that was September, I got a call from the would-be groom that his marriage proposal was accepted by my daughter. He would have anticipated this because he asked his mom to present to my daughter the engagement ring. He was calling to inform me of this formal engagement and they (my daughter and him) were getting married on December. I said fine, they were adults; the engagement was ok with me but would prefer that this be formally announced a week before the wedding date. I planned my vacation to coincide with this event.
I gathered Mama Nil was expecting the call. This kind of arrangement would never pass from MamaNil who knew everything about her kids. The would-be groom hangs up. He was a skilled aircraft mechanic. He was calling from the USA.
After a month, Mama Nil said the deal was off, our daughter returned the engagement ring to the mother of the would-be groom. I believed Mama Nil. My daughter would not talk to me directly about it but she knew where my mind would always say: I believe her and I would be happy where and when she'll be happy. This is true to all my children; this is true from me.
Another month passed and the boy (who was not a would-be groom now) called up. He's calling from the Philippines. He said he resigned from his job, went straight to the bank where my daughter was working to plead that the wedding should push thru but to no avail, my daughter wouldn't budge. The boy was asking for advice. I told him to court my daughter again and show his total admiration. He was marrying a career-woman who knows how to listen, I added. I could not advise him more. I could sense what's going on in my daughter's mind. She didn't need any advice either. Will this be another love story to remember?
Love story at its worst chapter
Five years ago, December 24th, I was more amused than surprised having a catholic priest as a visitor. I thought this would be a peculiar Noche Buena for my family. Though I heard it all from everyone about the issue, I kept mum since I arrived from Riyadh. I waited until this moment to come but did not expect it would be the night before Christmas. The priest was proposing marriage to my eldest. He was ready to quit priesthood after a year. He claimed to have the nod from his Bishop superior. He knew what to do and what to expect. He didn't say his priestly duty is to God.
Indeed, the situation was not ordinary. If this was a sort of love story, the twist was so unusual… un-expected, one for the movies as my foster mother kept telling the folks in my old hometown. I had known this kid since he entered in the seminary. Along those years, I came to know about his family. I didn't expect the relationship (if there was) would come this far. I said to myself, if this is a love story the ending could still be changed. Right now, it is at its worst chapter.
Having lived my entire bachelor-hood in association with priests, I had witnessed some stories which I viewed as a curse. A distant cousin became pregnant by one of our high school priest-professors. She died delivering her newborn. Her mother insisted that the priest bring the child with him. That was again a terrible mistake. Upon seeing the child, the father of the priest had a heart attack. He died on the spot. The priest's siblings dis-avowed him since then. More quarrels followed and the family had never been the same again. This priest asked me to address him as mister when we became classmates in one subject of a graduate program. He said he left priesthood since the tragedy.
To my visitor that night, I told him that I couldn't give my blessing as a father for this kind of relationship. (He's aware the blessing only comes from above) If there is indeed a curse, I pray to God that I absorb all His punishment – even death – and spare my family. I admitted I can't prevent my daughter from living with him if it is with him she would be happy as this is always the desire of every parent – happiness for their child. Out of love, I would close my eyes and turn my head in the opposite direction and wish their union would be a happy ending. But never would I give my blessing, it's useless.
Deep within I was praying to God to guide the two to the right path. I was seeking for the Holy Spirit intervention… to fill our house… of His love on Christmas. I kept telling myself, this would never be like this if ever I was with my family.
I did not see the priest again since he left our house before midnight.
In the Noche Buena, I led the prayer with my family welcoming the birth of Jesus.
More than 20 years ago.
I could not remember the last time I cried but I found my tears flowing when the Philippine Airlines lifted at the Manila International Airport (NAIA now) on February 26, 1986, first flight to Saudi Arabia after the Marcos family fled to Hawaii. 'Twas also my birthday.
Four days before, I asked my wife (she and the kids were in Manila for the despidida) to go home earlier to our province because the political situation in Manila was getting worse. Enrile and Ramos had just announced in the radio that they were pulling out their support to the president. Everyone was talking about civil war, revolution. I thought of the safety of my family. Perhaps, if indeed there would be a civil war, I could manage myself alone. Mama Nil was crying, unmindful of the other bus passengers. Her eyes asking: why can't we be with you? My youngest (only 14 months) hands were waving goodbye (as he was taught); my second daughter in tears (as she would had been every time I would leave, the last after her college graduation knowing she'll come to Saudi with me); and my eldest (at 6 years) who's looking for answers from questions she would only know. I waited until the bus they were riding exited from my view.
What a way to leave my family. My country was in a mess.
Dhahran was my port of entry. The Saudi authorities at the immigration and customs greeted us like heroes. The custom officer congratulated me, shaked my hand and simply put a sticker on top of my luggage. No questions asked. This was not what I heard during the orientation seminar and from what those ex-Saudis who told stories of baggage's being searched and custom authorities looking for banned items. I reached Saudi to begin my life's journey without my family. I never thought this would go on for more than 20 years.
Mama Mary
I was excited even if I was not able to attend the high school graduation of my eldest daughter. My work as an accountant would not permit me to come on graduation day. Nevertheless, I was looking forward to continue my work in Saudi Arabia, now that I have a daughter pursuing a college degree. I could not wait for my daughter to tell me what course she intends to take in college; into what university she would like to enroll; what she had in mind; what she wanted to be. I was prepared to enroll her to any university of her choice.
"Papa, I want to enter the convent and be a nun. I want to serve Mama Mary", these were the first words from my daughter when we sat down to chat. It was like a bombshell I never imagined to hear. Deafening. The sound pierced my ear more than the sound of the scud missile that Sadam Hussein launched to hit Riyadh during the Middle East war.
My mind groped for the right response. I figured the situation calls for calmness and diplomacy with the right combination of words. I was looking at a very young lady who had grown this far without me.
But how to start with, I really had no idea. How I wish this was a mathematical equation which my brain was trained to do - a mental calculation ahead of what my hands could write.
I had nothing against serving Mama Mary but this is not what I expected from my young lady. I wanted her to finish college and have a family. Is it that much to be desired?
Calculating my move and not sure of what to say, I asked why she thought of this vocation. The next one (1) hour or so was a narration of frustrations and longing. To sum it all, my daughter finished high school alone, without me, without her mother's attention, without the love and care of me and Mama Nil. And because of these, she'd rather enter the convent away from us, from her family. She said she'll be more at peace with Mama Mary.
Mama Nil was in tears from hearing all of these. I asked her to get inside our room which she adamantly complied.
I needed a one-on-one situation with my eldest. I needed to make her feel assured of my presence, of my love, of my vision of her future. I wanted to tell my eldest that Mama Mary on earth is Mama Nil and every mother of a daughter like her. That Mama Mary was simply a symbol of a mother's love to her child. That Mama Mary was used to serve as model to every mother. That if she served Mama Nil, she would be serving Mama Mary too! Moreover, I would not argue with her going inside the convent after she finished her college. Now I was interpreting my catechism days but it's God who knows how true or not my words would be.
I didn't know how long I talked. We found each other hugging and I felt her confidence building. She said she would try the entrance exam at Ateneo the next day.
I was relieved. This would not have happened if I was with my family.
Mama Nil squeezed my arm and whispered that the wedding coordinator announced that I should take the bride for a dance.
It was my first dance with my daughter.
Mama Nil
It was our turn to dance, so I took Mama Nil's hands. She's as lovely as we've met 32 years ago.
Mama Nil to everyone, I fondly call her 'Agom' (spouse) and she's the mother of my three kids. Mama Nil never missed her schedule when it comes to our kids. The last glass of milk Mama Nil served to our eldest was the day before her wedding. This is one reason why I never fail to greet Mama Nil on Mother's Day.
Last year, when my youngest was about to graduate from college, I ask the children if I could bring their mother with me in Riyadh. I told everyone that it's about time that Mama Nil and I should re-discover our relationship as husband and wife. I didn't know it was also their plan for their Mama Nil to come with me.
I had a family status in my company – meaning I was entitled to bring my family and I made sure we were together during vacation times – my family coming to Riyadh. Going back to the Philippines, I would often coincide my vacation so that we could be together three (3) months at the most. But this situation had all changed when my eldest on entering high school, decided not to come back to spend holiday with me. Being in the adolescent stage, I could only understand her. The custom in Saudi Arabia would not let her nor any of my family get out of the house without me. The other two siblings agreed and Mama Nil could only afford to follow.
Little did I realize this would be the beginning of what exactly I wanted to avoid – less time with my family, less time with Mama Nil. For the succeeding years, Mama Nil and I could only manage to talk about ourselves for not more than I could stay – 30 or 35 days, the rest of the topic would be all about family, finances and the kids.
I remembered it was Mama Nil's absence as one of the reasons why our eldest would like to enter the convent. In anticipation of our eldest going to college, Mama Nil decided to rent an entire apartment which was a stone's throw from a university located in the next city. The decision was not hers alone. I consented too.
Mama Nil turned the apartment into a bustling boarding house. She had this business to attend to and without us noticing, Mama Nil's presence would only be with the kids on weekends. The day-to-day upbringing and caring for our kids were left to one of my cousins. Our eldest was left alone to mend for herself until her graduation in high school. Sadly, the apartment was never used during the college days of my kids. I asked Mama Nil to re-sell the rights even before our eldest set her foot into college.
Perhaps, this could not have happened if we were together ever since.
Several years ago, I remembered Mama Nil called up and asked me if we were still husband and wife or not separated. I asked why and she responded that that was the news she heard circulating in the town: we were separated and the only thing that bridged us together was the monthly allowance I send. I returned the question to her so she could honestly answer. She hang-off and went straight to the person from whom she got this news. It was war.
This could not have happened if we were together then.
There was a time when a friend could not return the money I lent and Mama Nil was all over me sending text messages almost daily inquiring when she would receive the monthly allowance already overdue because the kids would fail paying for their tuition fees, etc. Lesson learned: I dread to read Mama Nil's text message whenever I had my shortcoming.
But this would never have happened if we were together.
Our first month together was full of enthusiasm. The next was none of the first. We kept finding faults at each other later. We were struggling to work out our relationship. The most obvious was the separate markings on the bed because we slept on the opposite sides. The last straw, I shouted at Mama Nil. This would never have happened had we've been together ever since.
I figured we need to adjust and I had to make the first move. I kneeled down and made a solemn pledge to Mama Nil: I would never leave her again. -fb
Monday, March 9, 2009
Special Envoy Amb. Roy Cimatu visited Nigeria
As it was, Mrs Derpo spoke at length with Gen Cimatu as he arived in Nigeria on March 4, 2009, before proceeding to Abuja.
On March 5th, Gen Cimatu is said to have met with the Foreign Affairs minister of Nigeria to discuss security situation of OFWs. The Nigerian Foreign Affairs Minister reportedly told Gen Cimatu that everything is okay with filipinos in Nigeria, except in Oil areas.
Later in the day, Gen Cimatu went to the compound of Julius Berger Construction company, where majority of expat employees are Filipinos. Gen Cimatu was guided by Engr Lito Nocum, the head of Filipino association in Abuja, in touring the accommodations for Filipinos.
Gen Cimatu quipped that he'd never seen so many cars outside the embassy belonging to OFWs. He compared Nigeria to Lebanon. To which an OFW said in jest, "walang pong DH sa Nigeria kasi".
Gen Cimatu wrapped-up his visit to Nigeria with a meeting with Filipinos in Ikeja, Lagos. He was met by the Philippine Barangay Society in Nigeria (PBSN) chairperson (and Banaag 2008 Awardee). Mrs Esperanza Derpo in the airport, and to the PBSN clubhouse in Ikeja.
Gen. Cimatu reiterated his observation that he was impressed at the job positions of Filipinos (managers and supervisors), and the salary/accommodations they have in Nigeria.
When asked what would be his recommendation to the President, Gen Cimatu gamely said that it's obvious from his "body language" that he will recommend for the lifting of the ban.
Gen. Cimatu was accompanied by Consul-Gen Alex LaMadrid on his trip to Abuja and Lagos.
Nigeria is home to almost 5,000 OFWs employed in oil & gas, telecoms, construction, manufacturing and services sectors. Filipinos have been in Nigeria since the early 70's.
Sunday, March 8, 2009
Efren Peñaflorida: Kariton Klasrum (onli in da Pilipins)
This is quoted from the CNN Story entitled, "Pushcart classes help break gang chain."
Efren Peñaflorida,27,founded Dynamic Teen Company in Cavite City in 1997. The teen volunteers take the Kariton Klasrum to unwashed, unshod, and unschooled kids in the least likely learning environments such as public markets, cemeteries, slums, and prison.
Many overseas Filipino workers (OFWs) take the plunge and brave separation from their families because they feel that there is no hope in the Philippines.
After working abroad for many years, many OFWs would like to go home for good. But the bleak socioeconomic situation and unstable political conditions stop them. It's a hopeless situation, they say.
Has Kuya Ef , as the kids call him, ever thought of becoming an OFW? Would he apply as an office clerk in a Saudi company? or a bellboy in a Dubai hotel? or a teacher in Singapore?
Probably not. Kuya Ef has found his 'acres of diamonds' right there in the midst of misery where he lives. As a teacher myself, I am humbled by Efren's selfless example.
Fellow OFWs, let's take heart. We have many more skills and many more resources than Efren and his teen volunteers.
We need not be afraid of going home sooner or later. Let's remember Efren's words, "You are the change that you dream, and I am the change that I dream..."
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
An OFW as a Philippine Tourist
I worked in Singapore in 2008 without going home for a whole year. I’d feel homesick every now and then, but there was plenty of work to occupy myself… To make up for lost time, I splurged my annual leave and spent most of December 2008 with my extended family members as well as friends. One of the things we did together was tour Luzon from south to north.
It was wonderful getting re-acquainted with my grandkids as well as exploring my own country and heritage. No small thanks to my Malaysian friends Soo Fun and Michael who came to visit for a week.
True, traffic jams are everywhere in Manila and other big cities. But the strawberry jam and the ube jam of the Good Shepherd Sisters in Baguio City and Tagaytay City are enticing, tempting, and mouth-watering rewards, enough to make you exclaim, “It’s a glimpse of heaven!”
Soo Fun loved pearl jewelry and had a grand time shopping for pearl presents as well as pearl keepsakes for herself. She and my daughter-in-law shopped till the shops closed!
Tagaytay was cool and windy although less cold than Baguio. Because it was a little cloudy, our view of Taal Volcano was not as sharp as on a clear day. It was also too windy to stay outdoors and contemplate the volcano in the middle of the lake.
My son insisted that we go to Angono, Rizal. He fondly remembers his art excursion to Angono when he was a college student at San Beda College in Mendiola, Manila.
