ouch! my boo-boo (04/28/09)

Ouch! my boo-boo
Maria Reylan M. Garcia

Ouch. It stabbed like a murderer’s knife as if lacerating every bit of tissue. Ouch. The intense agony radiated throughout my lower abdomen. Ouch. Drops of sweat began to dampen my forehead, and I was getting paler and paler by the moment. Ouch. I am in terrible cramping pain. Curse this monthly cycle. I grieve with several other females who suffer dysmenorrhea; as if monthly blood stains and the added discomfort of soaked pads aren’t bad enough. Nevertheless, analgesics are as popular as sanitary pads. But, I often would refuse to take. No,

I’m not a masochist, but I would like to feel the pain for little longer while it still last. Call me a nut-head, but somewhere in my mind, that pain assures me that this month I’m having my menses, and that is a good thing.

The pain assures me that I am still alive.

Pain is something that most people dread, since it’s the complete opposite of comfort that everyone longs for. Whether it be physical pain or that which evolved from emotions, pain remains the most unsought feeling. Today, pain is attributed to costly hospital bills, marital separations and the rise of the golden era of analgesics. Although each people may vary in pain tolerance, which means one might handle the pain more lightly than another who would wail out for a shot of morphine just for a boo-boo. Yet, all with no exceptions ask and seek for a relief when the pain is already weakening him. We continue to drive ourselves to a detour away from pain. This detour may be a capsule of analgesia, an all-out confession that you haven’t had in many years, a handshake with a former rival, or the most peaceful yet worst, eternal rest.

But, pain isn’t all that bad. Scientists believe that pain is our body’s way of securing its own safety. Pain warns us of injury, protects us from further injury and prevents the body from too much activity enabling it to restore to its normal healthy state.

The bonus part is, if we lived through the pain, we become stronger

Just think, what if we don’t feel the pain of a touching a hot stove? We might be surprised part of our skin is burning making us susceptible to quick entry of infection. What if we don’t feel the pain of a clogged artery? We might be surprised that we lay flat on the floor, cold and lifeless because of total stoppage of blood flow, thus the heart gives up. What if people don’t get hurt when their husbands, wives or fiancés cheat on them or becomes too insensitive? We might be surprised that promiscuity will fly high and no one will ever believe on loyalty, since its okay to betray because the other one doesn’t seem to care enough to be faithful or truthful. What if there is no pain? We might be surprised that soon enough, there would be no life, no one would go up to mommy and ask her to kiss the boo-boo.

When we indeed feet the pain, we are reminded that what we did hurt and it’s up to us if we would intend to feel that pain again or go the opposite route and be anesthetized, be painless. If you feel pain, that is indeed too bad and really, you should be pitied. But, I believe that as long as we feel pain, this also means we still have something to fight for in order to feel at ease.

The bonus part is, if we lived through the pain, we become stronger.

We become assured that when that pain comes again we know we have the ability to possibly conquer it the second, third or fourth time around.

I may have little of other else’s shares of pains in life. What I may perceive as an excruciating pain may just be a prick of a needle for others, but like them, I have felt the pain, I simply have lived through it, and I have gotten stronger like them, though not as equally strong. Yet, I have gotten stronger.

Life is an irony. When we are in pain, for the present time, we seek for dependence. We use analgesics. We use anesthesia. We call on to mommy to kiss the boo-boo on our head. We call on to our friends to hear their comforting words whenever another guy breaks our heart. When in pain, we are weak. After the pain becomes a memory, we become braver.

Ouch. It still hurts. I took a tablet of analgesic a few minutes ago, now I have to bear the pain for several more minutes until it takes effect. Ouch. I’m still quite helpless. I reached for my mother’s hand. She smiled. Ouch. It still hurt. I smiled and hummed the song “If I were a boy….”

Soon the pain will be away. I know. It keeps coming back every month.

But, every month it reminds me, I still continue to live through it.

* * *

I am glad that our modern heroes, our OFWs have been reading and pouring out comments to my previous articles. Many thanks to Mr. Randy Bataanon and Engr. Cel Ramos. You do our country proud!

* * *

I'd like to greet a belated Happy Birthday to my Tatay, Engr. Reyno B. Garcia, who has lived through a lot of pains but still remains strong, and is getting stronger each year.

squids-on-a-stick (04/21/09)

Squids-on-a-Stick
Maria Reylan M. Garcia

Back in elementary, I always get dismayed whenever Lent was observed. It meant the canteen will serve less pork barbeques and more of squids-on-a-stick. That I have to be extra behaved because, according to my CLE (Christian Living Education) teacher, Papa Jesus died for my sake.

Lent meant torture for my playful age because it meant less television hours and more hours of visiting the school chapel. Even Eucharistic songs at Sundays tend to be duller and the energetic melodies that I look forward to, the Alleluia and Gloria were, for the meantime, postponed. All the more do I get bummed when Holy Week comes, since this happens to commemorate the saddest week in Jesus Christ’s life.

Eating nothing but fish for an entire week was okay, but my favorite cartoon channels off air for three days? It was torture, I felt like I was nailed on the cross.

Silly me, though I could not blame my young self. James Fowler, a child development theorist said during those years I was still under the Mythic-Literal faith, which meant I did not completely understand the core and essence of religious rites and customs. For as long as I prayed to my guardian angel every night before I sleep and not make fun of others, I was being a good child of God.

But, gradually as life began to present problems other than homework, my faith, my real faith also grew. Soon, Lent and Holy Week became more important to me. Soon, I understood my CLE teacher why I have to “extra behave.” Jesus died for my sake, for my sins. I saw the Holy Week as equally, no even—more significant than Christmas.

This may be the reason why I was much affected by news reports flooding the televisions and radios during the solemn week. Showbiz personalities raging havoc in Boracay. Actresses mouth-trashing and throwing shot glasses at some night club. Ramp models grabbing guns from security guards. Father, forgive them for they do not know what they are doing.

While I was at home, reflecting on Santino’s kindhearted generosity to a drunkard magician, some people were crowding the Boracay Police Station with foul accusations of one another. Holy week was supposedly commemorated not just for relaxation but also for reflection. Holy week is not commemorated for bikinis and violence.

I have nothing against people using the Holy Week for vacation. Family ties are actually strengthened with a few days at the beach. Since mom and dad have no work, they can certainly bond with the kids and cope with what they have missed for the past months. That’s a good thing. But to drown yourselves in alcohol, partying ‘til you drop and engaging in promiscuity while some people literally nail themselves to the cross, or let themselves be whipped ‘til they bleed and engaging in abstinence and fasting, you’ve gone too far.

I am aware that not everyone celebrates Holy Week, I am aware that not everyone shares the same religion. But I am Christian, I am a Catholic. I couldn’t stand people desecrating the week when my Savior was crucified to death just to save the lives of these same insensitive people.

Last Easter Sunday, I went to hear mass and the good priest’s homily was about the three Rs that should be done during Lent, most especially at Holy Week. These are Relax, Reflect and Renew. Most people perfected the first R, some did the second R, but a few considered doing the third. Whether you’re a Christian or any other sect of faith, I guess we all need to observe these three things once in a while. The Holy Week was one of the best times to observe them, since we were all free from work and school.

At times, we need to gather broken selves, think about how we can be better, and then eventually vow to practice our renewed and reborn selves.

I am guilty of not being able to fully fulfill the three Rs, but in one way or another, I had shed some tears and felt an awakening pain inside my heart. I realized my faults, I realized their consequences. As a Christian, as a Catholic, every moment my Lord’s portrait of suffering was flashed on the TV screen or simply came across my mind, I wanted to rush unto him and help him carry the cross that was actually never his. As a human being, as a person regardless of denomination and beliefs, every moment I see the man called Jesus Christ, I wanted to still rush onto him, help with the 50kg cross and maybe change the already confused and wasted world.

Every time it’s Lent, every time Holy week comes I still feel dismayed. But not because of less pork barbeque at the canteen. But because one man suffered and died for my sake, for everyone else’s sake and many don't seem to care.

* * *

Birthday greetings to my brother Ramon, who's entering the world of adolescence at 12 years old.

pregnant at 17 (04/14/09)

Pregnant at 17
Maria Reylan M. Garcia

She was young at 17. Her brown eyes were to every girl’s envy. With one look, she can bring a one-woman man down on his knees. Make-up enhances her charm.

The blush on her cheek and the gloss on her lips bring out a smile, a grin that goes right at you saying ‘talk to me’. Her hair would bring shampoo models to shame. Her dress and her shoes were in harmony to her beauty. She may seem perfect at first glance, but wait until you see the problem she bears.

Quite recently, she's been feeling weak and nauseated. Teary-eyed every night,her parents lecture her. It's because she is pregnant. She's going to be a mother at 17.

Teen pregnancy these days sounds like a female teenager’s fashion like skinny jeans, colorful bottles of nail polish, or multiple shades of eye shadows. It has become part of teen culture because the incidence of teenage sexual activities have increased over the years. Some 75 percent of those below age 19 being already, as they themselves admit, “active.”

I happen to understand that within a human’s growth and development reaching adolescence or teenage entails the heightened increase of sexual interest, sexual maturity, and well... everything sexual. The topic of peer conversations shifts from harmless arguments of who has the best Pokemon collectibles to condoms, birth control pills, abortion, one-night stands and sex.

Yet, curiosity kills the cat. Thousands of 17-year-old mothers stopped schooling, ended their social lives, isolating themselves, depressed and hesitant to start over. They are afraid of what society may brand them as. Sure, some might have a more liberated approach, that since it is rampant, it can’t hurt. Since, the father of her baby agreed to marry her and be young couples still quite dependent upon their respective parents, it can’t hurt. But, I believe that a part of their lives, a portion of their innocent youth has been piled into a bucket of regret and could have been more rewarding and less of a headache to their families.

Look at several young parents today. Some might present themselves as happy and very well adapted, but there are nights when each teen mother or father face themselves in the mirror thinking about slapping their own faces and remembering that hormone-filled and clumsy night. Look at several young parents today. At the mall, their peers seethem walking around cradling a baby in their arms. The peers pause and try to look sympathetic and tell the young parent how cute the baby is. They go separate ways, the young parent a little uncomfortable, missing out on a whole day of fun gimmick. The peers walk into a cinema, temporarily forgetting the fate of their friend. The young parent walks to the grocery store, along aisle three at the infant milk’s section.

Part of my Normal Obstetrics lectures, I have come to realize that an entire sexual intercourse can pleasurably take place in some ten minutes. Too short to risk your entire life and door-opening chances for, right? Yes, we are young and reckless and all we think about is everything that could bring us into euphoria, into what we blindly, deafly and dumbly regard as happiness and satisfaction. But, think about it while hormones haven’t got the better of you. Are you indeed willing to spend a few minutes of pleasure in exchange of a potentially problematic lifetime? And if you do have contraceptives and elate yourselves without getting tummies bloated and innocent fetuses being born out of purely “accidents”, can you still walk upright with intact morals and face your parents with sincerity? Think about it. You still haven’t finished school, you still live under your parents’ house, still cries to mom when you have troubles with your boyfriend and still have your dad paying for your monthly phone bills. Where’s your simple debt of gratitude, simple shame I might add, to simply come home and wail out to your already high-blood parents’ that ‘I’m pregnant.’

I had my duties in the delivery room and I concretely saw what pregnant women undergo. After forty weeks of nothing but mood shifts, lower back pains, distorted body image, stretch marks, and possible depression, a woman has to undergo several hours more of intense pain during increasing contractions during her date of delivery. Plus, not to mention the very possibility of developing complications that may be life-threatening. I had patients at their 30’s who still couldn’t get the hang of pregnancy and delivery. Then I wondered, how much more a 17-year old?

I appeal to you my fellow youth, there is always a time for everything. It’s hard to get pregnant when it is still not the time.

It’s hard to have a family when it is still not the time.

But, everything remains two-sided. Teen pregnancy isn’t just a result of teen rebellion. Teen pregnancy may also be a cry for help from weakly-guided teenagers. Teen pregnancy can be the outcome of the obnoxious crime of rape. I still admire the several young mothers, you’re courage to continue bearing the child, denying the very thought of abortion, is above all admirable. Yes, what else can we do if the act has been done? I am advocating for the prevention of teen pregnancy, but I am still pro-life. Teen would-be fathers and mothers, the fetus has nothing to do with the irresponsibility you have done.

I appeal to you my fellow youth, do not resort to abortion. I appeal to you parents, don’t push away your children who have gone astray. This should be the proper time and venue for you to be a parent to them. This is indeed a cry for help. You have brought them up for so many years now, and just for a single mistake you’ll give up on those many years and disown them? Please, we need your help, we had and always will.

She was young, at 17 and pregnant. Help her.

But don’t follow her example.

Save the Earth (04/07/09)

Save the Earth

Maria Reylan M. Garcia

As we pray at night for a better tomorrow, we need to act, too. We need to plant trees. We need to stop smoking....

I was three years old when I first saw the picture of the earth in an encyclopedia where Mickey Mouse was in an astronaut’s suit floating beside the blue planet. All I could think of at that very moment was how the earth resembled the blue bouncing rubber ball of my jackstone set.

I was in elementary when I first saw the satellite image of the earth. I wondered at how a single planet can support the billions of lives in it.

Until today, I continue to marvel at the beauty of Mother Earth. But alongside is the uncertainty and fear of how much longer it will resemble my blue bouncing rubber ball and how long can it support those that live in it.

Save the Earth. This tagline has undoubtedly been used countless of times. But, as time progressed, the earth’s need to be saved worsens. Environmentalists conceived almost every creative idea to gather the support of the majority since the earth’s disease gradually becomes systemic and irreversible.

Last March 28, 2009 from 8:30 to 9:30 in the evening, some ten million Filipinos decided to switch off their lights and unnecessary appliances for an hour to show their support for the earth. They joined other countries for Earth Hour. They opted to save the earth, even for just an hour. I hope soon, it may evolve into more than just an annual event. I hope it may evolve into a habit, a daily routine. If we could spend the 23 hours with ease, an hour without television or air-conditioners won’t hurt.

This global activity only proved that the global community can actually work together to bring back the long lost pristine ecosystem. But I just could not understand why others seem not to care. It seems so simple to realize that if we continue on polluting the earth, we will soon lose the only home that can support us. I don’t know much about economics or how world trade commences, but I am aware that some industries won’t permit to go for renewable energy because they earn big from smog-producing energy sources. I am aware that they want to grow filthy rich and famous. But, pardon me; our lives are at stake here. Once the earth explodes and suffer fatal climate disturbances, she won’t consider anything, she won’t care how much you have or who you are.

Think about it, the earth is the only planet with chocolates, with white-sand beaches, with cute fluffy puppies and the only planet we have.

We dream of big things. These dreams were the mother of technology and progress, but when dreams were splattered with greed and self-centered interests, they become roots of extinction and global warming.

In one way or another we have contributed. Once in our lives we have forgotten to turn of the lights when not in use, threw a candy wrapper on the sidewalks, used a bottle of hairspray, and we occasionally fart. But, sad to say we are also the patients to this malady.

We were tasked as stewards of all the creations, living or non-living.

As we pray at night for a better tomorrow, we need to act, too. We need to plant trees. We need to stop smoking. We need to reduce, reuse and recycle. We need to use fluorescent lamps instead of incandescent light bulbs because they last longer and are 75 percent more efficient in saving energy. We need to make use of paper more efficiently. We need to stop eating gas-producing foods to prevent massive production of carbon dioxide. We need to campaign for our government to enforce the use of renewable energy. We need to tell others to do something for the earth everyday.

The earth has been letting us live for millions of years now. It’s about time we pay back and let her live millions of years more.

Save the earth.

Truly, I’m not joking.

It is the only planet with chocolates.

White-Out (03/31/09)

White-Out

Maria Reylan M. Garcia

In order to survive and continue to thrive as a living being, I need three essentials. These are oxygen to which without I’ll be cold and blue literally, food to which absence I’ll be malnourished and eventually be swarmed by flies and my correction tape otherwise popularly known as the white-out. Yes, the white-out, taking form of both a strip of tape and ounces of fluid, it had whitened the dimmest and the messiest set of scribbles I have written. I had relied on it since high school when Trigonometry spilled the worst blots of ink and even until now, when my minimum-of-ten-pages Nursing Process have sent my spastic left hand berserk, committing jerky errors every two seconds. To whoever had conceived the brilliant idea of my white redeemer, hear my words of gratitude: You’re such a kindhearted person. You made the world a better place.

I use white-outs more frequent than I use my hairbrush. From this utter reality, one may realize how roughly careless I am when it comes to writing on paper. That may be the reason why I write my column articles directly on the computer; otherwise I might have used up all the white-out in the world. This dependence placed me into a life threatening challenge when I entered my Nursing course, since during examinations we are not allowed to have erasures of any forms: white-outs, rubber erasers even re-tracings. It may appear that on every exam that I have taken, I have already risked my very life. I turn frustrated every time I would shade the wrong selection while completely aware of the mistake, if I could just bring out my white-out and make things white—I mean right.

We learn from our mistakes. The basic idea of committing an error so that the same carelessness won’t recur again in the future has been the wall of confidence for many, has been the ray of hope for failures. But, then it came across me, what if we won’t have the
future to regain and correct our errors? We are too confident that someday we will be able to prove ourselves right. I am too confident that for every word I misspell the white out will simply be some few flicks away. Soon, I begin to disregard to battle off carelessness because I am assured that even though I spelled public schools as pubic schools, in a matter of seconds I can spare myself from foolish shame. Because I knew that wrong things can be made right, I took for granted on making the right things.

But, to err is human. We can’t escape the fact that we are imperfect, that we at times would take a detour on a no U-turn zone, that we at times would shade the wrong selection at an examination, that we at times would mutter awful remarks and impulsive prejudice that are in the end completely contrary. I honestly believe that we should not
just let this human characteristic to be the reason for why we are so. I don’t think our tendency to commit mistakes would be enough reason for us to stop trying to avoid mistakes. I don’t think our potential to commit errors would be a justifiable reason for us to confidently say, “I’ll do better next time.” I believe we must find ways to prevent making mistakes, learning from them should be the last resort.

I cannot imagine myself as a registered nurse who made a mistake on recording the vital signs of the patient or charting the wrong medications given. Lucky for me if the error was discovered before things get worse and life threatening. But, there are times, there are certain moments in our lives that mistakes aren’t part of the choices, that there is no room for error. Right now, I am guilty of still using the white-out, but somehow I have loosened my reliance. I treat every article, essay or even things-to-do list as one of my Nursing exams that as much as possible I must not make erasures, I must not make
mistakes. Besides it would be a waste of some drops of ink to rewrite and possibly some few sheets of paper too.

Mistakes indeed are present to remind us that we must do better the second time around, but mistakes must not prevent us from doing well the first time. Yet, I still am in deep gratitude to the creator of the white-out, because sometimes my tendency to misspell public to pubic can bring me to trouble.

White-outs are always available in office supplies, but the opportunities to do things right for the first time might not always be.

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did some few revisions...

I did some few changes to my blog, editing a few typos and... well, adding a few pictures.
How's your summer coming along?

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Feels like summer (03/24/09)

Feels like Summer

By: Maria Reylan M. Garcia

In less than a week, everything will change.

Everything will be entirely different the moment it comes.

No one will be able to stop its domination.

Every person, young or old, will bow revering its radiance. It will force a new type of dress code that requires moreshow of skin. It will leave many no choice but to plunge themselves into the watery depths. But beware, the youth will be its power, they will deem it as their new master, forgetting the scholastic regime.Yet some will take chances and pacify its power, but neither sun-blocklotions nor ice creams will be worthy enough to wage war. In less than a week, we will meet our conqueror; we will meet Summer.

If it may appear that I have attributed summer to some sci-fi movie where every one gets captured by sun-loving UFOs. But, summer is indeed a power, a dominion, and for a few months of its reign, we willfully accept to be colonized. I am at awe at how summer could radically change our very lifestyle; fashion, food preferences,vacation destinations, the speed of our electric fans, the thermostat level of our air conditioners. It is like a maddening fad that gives us no options but to follow since it offers fun, relaxation and enough reason to wear sunglasses without being tagged as having sore-eyes.And we who are still in white uniforms and black school shoes define summer as the temporary freedom before graduation. I could now sleep until noontime without tardy slips stuck on my face. I could now choose to laze myself around the television without feeling anxious for an exam the next day.

I could now relieve myself of the pressures of schoolwork and convert them into a big bowl of icy halo-halo. I get apprehensive and so excited even just thinking about it. Those ten months even with a breather of Christmas and semestral breaks mixes caffeine to combat those drowsy eyes, ball pen inks regardless of color and laundry detergent for the white uniforms into a cauldron that boils with stress and a cry for a longer break.

Yet I wonder, the moment we reach even just halfway of our vacation,we begin to miss our routines. We begin to feel quite bored about sleeping and waking up late. We begin to feel quite not so entertained with the same shows on television. We begin to feel quite awkward without the stress behind work and school.

The cycle lives on, the moment we enrolled ourselves for the next semester we begin to miss vacation and the moment we throw ourselves into the comforts of vacation we begin to miss school. You simply can’t have both at the same time.I used to dream about dividing the 12 months equally for school and vacation, that way it will satisfy both the drive to work and the urgeto relax. But then I realized if you’ll have equal amounts of fun andstress, you won’t be able to realize each of their worth, there will be lesser longing.

We sorely long for vacation since it is seldom and rare. We miss our routines since it has been a huge part of our day today. We won’t long for vacation if it comes that often and in a longer span. We won’t miss our routines if it would not appear as routines since it covers just about the same span as our vacation.Life will be more fun if we continue to long and miss, to anticipate and to yearn. The best that we could do to combat momentarily our longing is to make the bets out of each while they last. Spend summer as if it will never come again.

Do your work with the fear of losing it. That is why when it is vacation, we rest and that means we don’t bring our work into family outings or cram our hearts out for the next semester’s subjects. That is why when it is schooldays and working days, we study and we work and that means we minimize our leisure to maximize our time.

This summer, you have no reason but to relax, chill and have fun because in a few months you’ll have all the time to cram, be stressed and have everything but fun.

In less than a week, everything will change.

Get your summer on!

Is education enough? (03/17/09)

Is Education enough?
By: Maria Reylan M. Garica

Jose Rizal believed that through education the country receives light.

His advocacy on literacy will permanently be printed together with the genius rhymes of his poems and deep-cutting attacks of his essays.Throughout our history, Rizal foretold about the glory that was inherent in schoolbags and chalkboards. We came to know Filipino scientists who wowed the world of new breakthroughs, Filipino health practitioners who serve as foundations to health care agencies of other nations, and Filipino diplomats who showed versatility and globalc ompetitiveness. These, they were because of the undying belief of that man embossed in the silver one peso coin. For many years, many had inculcated that education equals success, that a diploma istant amount to a loaded bank account. For many years, many had believed education can solve poverty.

But, look around, does it really?

We all know the typical story.

A poverty-stricken family residing in afoul and polluted slum, sleeping in a mosquito infested room whose ceilings drip when it rains, decides to stop living the poor life. The mother and father were just elementary graduates, mother washes clothes for a living, and father has no stable job. Yet, they convened to work harder. One night, while their fourth year high school daughter was scribbling her trigonometry assignment, they approached her and brainwashed—advised her to take up some course that will lead her to an immigrant visa and foreign currencies. Daughter agrees and the rest of her younger siblings stopped school, yet she promised that when she would finally end up abroad she’ll be financing her siblings’ education. Family becomes apprehensive and excited for future balikbayan boxes and imported chocolates. Daughter studied hard denying even romantic suitors, finished college then took up and passed the board exam, yet eventually ended up in the bulk of the unemployed.The daughter received education, the family believed in education and yet there they remain all itchy and sweaty from mosquito bites and dripping ceilings.

As I see it, education alone can’t shed the maximum amount of light to the country as it can’t even just to a simple family. Rizal might have said and died for the belief, because in histime there were more demand and opportunities than supply and risk-takers. Today, our country can’t provide ample job opportunities and some nations are projecting to close doors for human services imports in the near future.

We have a lot of job applicants with less hirable positions. This is certainly the survival of the fittest,those who are willing to exhaust all means just to attain that valued stamp on their passports or simply impress extensively the employer will garner greater chances of getting hired or earning more.I still believe that education is by far an essential towards success and one’s very ability to thrive. Yet, I am now certain that it isn’t only education that will pull you through.

There are a lot of cum laudes jobless, there are a lot of doctoral degree holders underemployed, there are a lot of educated people who haven’t received light, the light that could feed their hungry families and cover up the holes in their dripping ceilings. Since I am not yet in the battlefield I don’t exactly know what it takes to rise above and reach for the coveted employment. But I do know that determination and willingness to move on despite misfortunes and u-turns will soon reward you of better pastures.

The primary reason for some underemployed and unemployed graduates is once they had a few downturns during their job-seeking course; they’ll just give up and settle for mediocrity.We are too ascertained that education can take us heights. Well, yes it indeed can but together with the spirit, a dash of luck and faith.I am quite frightened that one day when I graduate I’ll end up like some who can’t explore their limits and further their enkindled education through actual practice.

I am quite frightened that I may end up frustrated, that after all those four and more years of sleepless nights and financial investment I’ll end up spending the rest of my productive life paying off the capital, hopelessly in search of profits.I simply mean, we need more jobs, jobs that fit our education.Filipino education, behind those poor facilities and termite-infested classrooms, can still be considered as quality. When we graduate we’re ready for the outside world, but today the outside world seems not ready for us.Rizal is right when he said; through education the country receives light.

But such light today is just flickering we need more to set it beaming and flourishing.

To all the graduates, I wish you the best of luck for your futurecareers. Strive hard to employ. When in doubt, pray and when about togive up just think about your siblings who stopped schooling for youto finish your own and most especially your dripping ceiling backhome.
________________________________________________________
I would like to commend my little brother, Ramon Ariel Ken M. Garcia for graduating as the Valedictorian of the Elementary graduating classof Colegio de las Hijas de Jesus. May he spare himself of beingunemployed one day.

Happy Graduation Batch 2009!

Friends and Chocolate Mousses (03/10/09)

Friends and Chocolate Mousses
(A sequel to Friends and Blueberry Cheesecakes)
By: Maria Reylan M. Garcia

There it was, neatly sliced on the edges. A thick layer of foamy chocolate on top of a lush crust of brownie garnished with soft delectable mallows, it was heaven on a dessert plate.

It was Chocolate Mousse. I get the same tingles on the taste buds each time I brought the fork nearer to my tongue? My first year college classmates opted to surprise my 18th birthday with this heaven-sent delight. The cakebox was covered in scribbles of black permanent marker as if screaming their birthday greetings with all the excitement and an unwavering hope for a lunch treat.

For many years, it was apparent to my liking that Chocolate Mousse is just the second best thing next to Blueberry Cheesecakes, but for that time being, simply because it was given by such special persons, Chocolate Mousse became my number one. It’s amazing how friends could make cakes a lot sweeter.

Friends, why have the world so suddenly see them as special? They’re not blood nor share the same surnames, but they are treated in the same level as family. They are strangers from the same school,neighborhood or work. Strangers who gradually became reasons why we whistle a tune while going to work, why we have barbeque parties, and why we bother to wear our uniforms and skittle to our early morning classes. They are special because unlike our families who are bounded by birth certificates, friends can easily break and do away without the relationship anytime, but in the end they choose not too and just
stay right beside.

Friendship doesn’t have any reason to remain and grow except friendship itself. Like cakes and desserts, these friends come in different flavors, colors and sizes but their taste proves tobe common, the taste of acceptance and trust.

You might have friends like Marinel, who never fails to be forever frank and genuine; someone who would simply fight for her principle sat any cost yet melts like cheese at the sight of some cute chinito guy. Treasure her, you’ll be aware of your mistakes and together you laugh or cry at them and continue living agreeing to be better the next time around.

Have come to know a Christopher? A wise and practical adviser who’s every statement you truly consider as relevant and who won’t let a day pass without making you giggle as he struggles for prioritizing between a box of doughnuts or a cup of halo-halo. Be glad you are friends with him; you’ll be able to make better decisions each day.

Then, there is someone like Janine, who can brighten up your dimmesthours with her cheerful smiles and unmatched words of encouragement.You’re lucky you know her, by then you’ll never loose faith and trust of what is to come.

You’ll be happy you made friends with a Jayzon; a talented, energetic and hilarious leader who can amazingly be objective and sensitive to the needs of others at the same time. Keep him close, he’ll teach you how to stand on your feet while assuring you his untiring loyalty.

Sometime in your life, you might meet people like Kevin, Janus and Ryan who are the best set of lunch mates and the best set of people to have a conversation with. Take care of them,they’ll expand your thoughts to the wackiest and yet the most enlightening.

Ever met a Rose Anne, a Monika or an April? They can scold you a thousand times for the right reasons, yet never can you grow a slight ounce of regret for befriending them. Be pleased they’re your friends; they’ll show the most concern and give the best set of hugs in the world.

You might be best friends with some persons like Tracy and Hope. They are simply the most family-oriented and kindhearted people you’ll meet, who’ll be at your refuge 24/7 since they almost treat you like family. Don’t ever let them go, they’ll remind you of your family and the love you must give back.

Look around and you might know someone like Clever and Julian. Though more feminine than they should be, they defend their friends like no other gentleman can. It’s great you have them; you’ll always be assured that someone indeed pledges to protect you against any other enemy.These are among the many types of friends that exist in this world,they each possess qualities which led you to hang-out, watch movies,have a sleep-over or pour your deepest secrets with them
Friends are persons who would always want the best for you. Friends are persons who have the courage to tell you to shut up when it’s enough or simply because your breath stinks. Friends are persons, who don’t exactly wipe your tears since tissues are quite abundant, they simply sit at your side and cry along hoping after sometime you’ll laugh at the problem and move on. This is my way of thanking those remarkable set of people who remain to be my friends.

Blueberry Cheesecake tastes better.



But, Chocolate Mousse will always be more special.


BSN WanBee, my friends I thank you for choosing to stay with me.

Turning 18 (03/03/09)

Turning 18
Maria Reylan M. Garcia

18 years and a day ago at 5:10 in the afternoon inside a room that smelled nothing more but blood, sweat and alcohol, a shrill cry was heard and both the anxious obstetrician and the exhausted mother heaved a sigh of relief.

A few minutes later, the man who couldn't stop pacing the distance outside the room's hallway, was informed tha the just became a father. On that very moment, a 3.6 kilogram toothless and salivating infant added another tally to the world's already increasing population. Years later, the same baby turned into a talkative toddler who loved Disney fairy tales and once mistook a blue crayon for a piece of French fries, fortunately the crayon was non-toxic. Several birthday cakes later, the toddler grew to be a pony-tailed grade-schooler who couldn't go home without borrowing Goosebumps from the library. Hormones rushed and a few years more the grade-schooler entered the storm of adolescence, had some competition and dealt with bright red pimples.

Soon enough, the adolescent turned legal and it has been a day since this young adult decided to breathe and started living.I'm now 18 years old, and the previous paragraph was the closest thing next to my autobiography. I finally reached the age of freedom, and of legality. 18 is an age looked forward to by agitated youth because some singles since birth are now allowed to have boyfriends, several get to drive their own cars whether second-hand or custom made and liberty-minded others are now unchained of the bondage of parental control. 18 is a highly anticipated age, more so to would-be ladies who give hotels and gown renting-shops a reason to stay in the
business.

18, without any doubt, is an age of privilege and autonomy.Yet, this statement might be lacking an important thought.True, now at 18 I can get drunk in night clubs and watch R-18 movie sand no one won't have the authority to scold me off. But, this isn't just the case. At 18, one may have the license, but alongside is the accountability that other 18 year olds and older have failed to realize. The duty tailing the right of suffrage makes you the instant person to be blamed whenever a lousy and good-for-nothing politician steps into office.

The accountability behind the superiority over the underage impels you to act always as their role model. The increasing set of expectations beneath the facade of freedom obligates you to become more mature and wiser in each decision. 18, without any doubt,is an age of liability and responsibility. Besides, once 18, you can now be put to jail for violating the law, no social worker will be rooting for you anymore.To those who will be, are and have been 18, there are two sides of a coin. Don't give this age as an excuse to disrespect your parents and disregard their reminders. You may be in the same boat as they are now, but they have been in this boat longer than you have, surviving through fiercer waves and currents that you did.

Don't abuse the privilege of this age to be immoral, you spent your childhood bombarded with values and grown in right conduct. It is a pity to giveaway a strong foundation in exchange for drowning yourselves in alcohol. Don't make this age as the justification for being reckless with your decisions, you may be becoming older but you aren't becoming mature.A lot have misinterpreted the age of 18 to be the prize of a less free childhood. In some ways, it might be rewarding since you get to make your own decisions. But these decisions are all the more subject to fiercer criticisms because the rest of society expects them to be more reasonable, more practical, more logical and more realistic.

When a child cries over not getting what he wants, it seems cute and pitiful.When an 18 year old or older shed tears over not getting what he wants, it appears dumb and weak.Adulthood, I believe isn't measured in numbers, so does maturity.There are many people I know who are 18 or even older who aren't mature and not worthy to be called as adults. They take the privilege of being grown up but leave behind the responsibilities.18 tells me that sooner I'll be faced with bigger and harder crossroads. Sometime soon I might be passing the nursing licensure exam and handle lives of patients risking my own license along the way. Sometime soon I might become a wife and a mother, rearing a family and carefully raising my children until they too reach 18.

Sometime soon I'll be swimming in the pool of real life that entails real sacrifices and risks, and that crying and tantrums aren't ways to settle them.It was 18 years and a day ago that I decided to cry when the obstetrician slapped my butt and live. I don't have any regrets, since there were special persons and events that honed reasons more than enough to keep on living.

It was a day ago that Reylan turned 18.

I hope everyone's okay with that.

Free Water (02/24/09)

Free Water
By: Maria Reylan M. Garcia

I get all excited every time I have free periods after lunchtime.
Without any concerns of time pressure for the afternoon classes, I'll grab the opportunity to escape from the domineering walls of the university and walk my way to an eatery at a classmate's boardinghouse. I love eating at a carinderia, since I get to spend less and eat more. Imagine, a medium-sized cup of sautéed vegetables, a small plate of kangkong shoots immersed in shrimp paste and vinegar and a cup and a half of hot steamed rice costs less than fifty pesos. All the more was it heaven on earth when you'll realize drinking water isfree. These may be the reasons why I was smothered in disappointment when last week I realized that the drinking water is now being sold at two pesos per glass.

Not to mention, a few pesos increase in some of my favorite dishes. I was in the midst of believing other pessimists,that indeed nothing in this materialistic world is free of charge.Happiness of an affordable lunch with free water refills fades into a belt-tightening blur. But, I never gave in. Hope is still not lost.No, I'm not going to discuss about price hikes and the damaging value of peso. I'm not going to talk about the economic turmoil that our desperately poor country is facing. I frankly don't have a nutshell on National Economics, I sometimes can't even count my change right.Happiness today is associated with money.

You can have the yummiest food, the most fashionable wardrobe, or the latest gadgets as long as your credit cards are loaded. Kids my age find immeasurable fulfillment in half a day's shopping of signature clothes or several hours of online gaming, both equally draining their pockets in exchange for the feeling of euphoria.

Happiness today is superficial and appears to be exclusively for those who can afford.

But never shall I forget the cliché; The Best Things in Life are Free.

Even though our world might be enclosed in a dome of salable joy and bliss, the best things actually remains 100% discounted. You'll spend thousands of pesos preparing for a night out with the trendiest style of outfit , several thousands more with treating your so-called friends some drinks so they'll think you're cool, plus some additional hundreds to pull off your flirting schemes and end up on a date with the hottest person in the club. But, wait, can't you have stayed at home with your younger brother who was pleading all week so both of you could watch the partial lunar eclipse and right after watch a random movie aired on TV? You'll spend nothing by wearing your comfy pajamas, you'll waste nothing by being with your little brother who'll think you're the best sister in the world, plus splurge nothing to have priceless giggles and shrieks while watching a horror flick.

A smile, a hug, a kiss, some words of encouragement and a simple hello, these are all free of charge but we often times disregard their value and focus more on the tagged and bar-coded ones.

You'll spend almost a thousand on a fresh bouquet of carefully picked roses for your monthsary gift to your girlfriend, several hundreds more with a romantic dinner date in a classy restaurant, and while you're at it some cheesy lines and pathetic alibis for forgetting her birthday.

But, hold on, can't you just have smiled at her everyday showering her with nothing but kind praises and part ways with a warming hug? You'll spend nothing when you bring her to a good mood everyday with your smile, squander nothing when you let her feel that you love her not
just in special occasions but in every moment of every day.A compliment to a friend who had a new haircut, a prayer for an ill family member, a hand to warm an anxious shoulder and a few minutes of looking up in the heavens to view the majestic cloud formations; these all costs Php 0.00. But I tell you, these things bring more happiness and peace.

The night with your friends at a night out exists for just a couple of hours, and once you all recovered from hang-overs everything will be as is, they'll still be the same make-up thickened faces you see everyday who only treats you special because you're loaded. The night with your little brother though exists in just a few hours as well, you'll wake up tomorrow with a stronger bond, you'll have another movie to laugh or maul about, and you both have seen a rare astrological phenomenon together. And I guess he'll be a less annoying little brother.We don't need to be promotional products like bite size hotdogs sandwiched in crackers in order to be free.

My friends let us remember that life still offers us a great deal of a bargain. These material experiences may let us be elated and "happy" for a while, but once their expired, terminated, canceled and over so does the "happiness".Those simple acts, thoughts and words may not have the same grandiose initial impact, but once their over and done, we will always look forward to do them again because a tingling and strange feeling remains.

Let us not wait for the time when these free things become priced and beyond our budget. Let us not wait for moments when hug sare rated at 5 pesos per minute, prayers are sold per verse, little brother's laughs are loaned, and a sweetheart's kiss needs a down payment.I'm still dismayed that the eatery sells the previously free water at Php 2.00.

Yet, I'm just glad everything else important to me is free.

The best things in life are still free.

Chocolate tastes like love (02/17/09)

Chocolate tastes like love
By: Maria Reylan M. Garcia

You know why chocolates are considered to be love drugs?

It is because they contain a substance called anandamide. Anandamide increases our heart rate which mimics the same hundred beats per second that takes place every time we would confess that we are in love. Thus, hopeful continue to flood the doorsteps of their sweethearts with boxes and boxes of dark sweet delights to ever remind them of that bone-tingling, spine-numbing and euphoric feeling. I happen to have eaten several tons of chocolate since birth, varying from milk to dark, peanut to almond core, and imported to local chocnuts. But,never have I had the same heart pounding and over the moon feeling for someone romantically; maybe just a couple of blushes on the cheek and weakening of the knees, but none at par with wedding bells and to die for relationships.

Yes, this Valentine's day I was single, and I'm guessing I will continue to be for quite a while.

Love like chocolates gives us an unexplainable feeling of content and longing, of security and thrill, of reality and fantasy, all occurring at the moment we take the first bite and the first kiss.

But is love confined to the definition of pleasure, elation and increased heart rate?

Almost three-fourths of my peers already have their special someone. They already have someone who'll carry their shoulder bags after fetching them from school. They already have someone to blame for not studying for tomorrow's long quiz because they were up all night texting love notes on unlimited service. They already have someone to show off and brag about; winning the game,who's got the hottest girlfriend?

But these definitions are all superficial. Treating your boyfriends and girlfriends as if they are like accessories and personal assistants isn't love.I admire those youth who hold relationships that are constructive.Those young couples who instead of rummaging the chances of good education, study together and inspiring each other to strive hard and make each of their parents proud and all the more agree to their relationship. Love is a gift intended to make a person and never to break him. It is like those profile skins on friendster or those gadgets on facebook that makes your page more beautiful and inviting.

Love brings out the best in a person. If what you are into doesn't, it only means it isn't love that's holding you two together.A lot of philosophers and experienced dating gurus have tried and failed to concretely define love, but none can grasp the immense totality of its meaning. But, here's a simple understanding of a soon to be 18 year old who have had only two dates during the entire course of her life. Love, for me, is when you have seen all the weaknesses and limitations of the other, but still you continue to be with that person. You don't know what's holding you back, since everything abou thim has already been tainted and unsatisfactory to you. This something that you don't know is love.I once thought that I have loved. I used to have an intense crush on a classmate back in elementary that went on until early first year college. Every time I would see his face, I get all tingly and kilig.Especially the part when I found out he also had a crush on me back in Grade 6.

But, it wasn't long before I found myself devastated of knowing he already has a girlfriend during 2nd year high school, and has been occasionally single but often times in a relationship sincethen. I still have a little bit of blushes for him, but this isn't strong enough to hold my loyalty. Then, I realized that it wasn't love. Those were just plain teenage hormones.I don't have any problems with youth who dates a hundred of guys or flings with multiple gals a day. It is all part of the process of knowing yourself and looking for that right one. My only thought is,don't be in a hurry to proclaim to the world that he'll or she'll be your very last. Because of this you become either abusive or obsessive of that person. Take time to know him better, know her faults further.It is in the darkness that you can see light. It is when she shares her darkest and vomit-worthy secrets that will let you decide whether you'll stay or be disgusted of her.

You know love isn't a right, so you can't force it out from anybody so you really need to earn it through taking time to know each other.Love doesn't wish the negative of the other. If he tries to abuse you or go over the limits, it isn't love. If he doesn't respect your chastity as a woman, if she treats you as a slave tending to her every whim, it isn't love. The moment that you still agree to stay with that person even if you're tainted and wasted, you may already be in love with him or her. But, then again, he or she might not feel the same way. Better think twice. Love is a social process, thus it needs to be reciprocal. We have the capacity to love and we have the need to beloved.

This Valentine's I have enjoyed eating some bars of chocolates all to myself while studying for a post test for next week, once in a while thinking how complicated love is.

Love creates something when all that's left is nothing.

Yes, I made that definition myself.
__________________________________________________________________

Many thanks to an anonymous sender who shared the same anti-cheating advocacy as I do.

99 checks (02/10/09)

99 checks
By: Maria Reylan M. Garcia

When I was in Grade 2, I could not forget how Elementary Mathematics would drive me nuts, especially those dreaded fractions.Since then I already suck at Math, and that might be the reason why for our periodical exams, I decided to sacrifice some few hours of watching Pokemon just to perfect the art of finding LCDs (least common denominator). On the day of the exams, somehow I managed to remain confident that I can add and subtract fractions even with dissimilar denominators, blindfolded or hanged upside down.

My seatmate may have shared the same opinion as he moved his desk a few inches closer to mine. I don't recall if I was daydreaming but, I honestly saw his neck extended to a length which I deemed to be humanly impossible. My second grade self knew he copied off me, he cheated. Then, came the day when my math teacher handed out the results, I got a high score. I was quite pleased until she called my attention, she told me with stern eyes that she has two of my test papers. There were two test papers with my name scribbled on the first page. It wasn't long until we realized my seatmate copied not only my answers but my name as well. What a loser. He stinks more at math and he cheats.

In my column, I may have written more than one article on cheating.

This time, I'll do it once more. Just recently I felt as ifI was back in second grade.

Only this time it was a midterm examination on a subject I believe I was good at since it did not
involve numbers. It was indeed depressing as the exam could rip fully functional brains into sorry lifeless pieces. I found the test difficult and some significant persons at the back row might share the same opinion. I wasn't cheated per se, since I was at the front row,but I was disgusted at how cheating in classrooms nowadays can get so disturbing. I saw some significant persons at the back row, flipping the pages of our textbook and copying the unmistakable answers on the blank items of our exam. They took the opportunity while our proctor wasn't aware or should I say was trying not to be aware. After we checked our test papers, it amused me to find out how everyone at the back row got more than half of what others in the front row got. I scored at 99. They scored at 122 and they were discretely bragging about it.

Pathetic.

I'm sorry, but how low can they possibly get? They'll trade in their principles for grades. If I could only mention their names, but I wouldn't sink lower than they already are. It was unfair on my behalf and others who decided to take risks and ample amount of sacrifices. I stayed awake until wee hours the night before the exam,forcing in all information into my head. I planned to go about my midterm exams as clean and as worthy as I can. Although I got 99,those 99 checks were legally and legitimately mine. I just wonder what portion of the 122 checks they owned honestly. Then again, some guilty others would say they too studied hard but since they didn't retain that much, their mere effort would already be a passport to let them cheat without fear of culpability. I don't care even if you did not sleep the entire night before the exams. The point is you cheated and that is wrong. Robin Hood will always be among the villains even if what he stole from the rich he gave to the poor.

The reason, the circumstances nor the ends don't justify the means.My fellow youth, your actions define your breeding. Don't put to shame the good names your parents have invested much on. Cheating may just be a simple child's play but when caught, you'll be subject to critical opinions that may unclothe every single piece of principle you have. If you still have an ounce left of love to your parents,save them from shame. Corrupt officials, crime lords, black market merchants they all rooted from simple acts of cheating.

Yet, I don't want to place all the blame on those significant persons at the back row. I respect my elders, but our proctor didn't exactly perform what he was tasked to do. Most of the time, people cheat because the atmosphere is welcoming and has the aura that says,you'll never get caught. Some people tolerate cheating because they thought it would be a good deed to help others pass their exams. Some people ignore petty crimes because they thought it would be a virtue to lessen the burden of complexities. Well, if that is so, who needs rules? Who needs morals? My friends, I'm no wise man, but I am absolutely certain you're not helping those poor unfortunate souls.You're giving them the ways and means to perpetuate the vicious cycle. Cheating will never be right. If ever I may sound biased since those significant persons at the back row got so much higher than I did; I'm sorry I don't. Here I am proclaiming that I'm contented of my score, 99/142.

At least, I can sleep soundly every night, and I have spared my family's name from being lured into the hot-list of cheaters.

Cheaters are such pathetic losers!!!

Obama and Ina (02/03/09)

Obama and Ina
By: Maria Reylan M. Garcia

Yes, We can.

This campaign slogan has been too many times abused andclichéd. It dominated the newsstands in bold-written headlines andrevolutionized the definition of catchy titles for cover stories. Yet,it has also been the cry and the source of hope for the millions ofpeople around the world who deemed for change. Yes, We can. This isthe campaign slogan of the 44th President of the United States ofAmerica, Barack Hussein Obama, Jr. The mere shadow of this Hawaii-bornlawyer can bring a beacon of optimism not only to his nation, but toeach individual who waited so long for change. Obama made the union ofskin color clearer as the first Black American President.

His powerfulspeeches satisfied the long lost dreams of society and boosted up thetiny spec of hope into a possible reality.I could not agree more with the majority. Obama is more than qualifiedto reside in the White House. He graduated law in the prestigiousHarvard Law School and even became the first black president of thepublication, Harvard Law Review that stirred up media and made himknown to the bigger crowd. I am inspired with his unmistakable honestywhen he confessed of his teenage drug experiences. I am certain hisseven years as a State legislator of Illinois and around three yearsas a U.S Senator would give him more than ample experience to run theland flowing of fast food chains.

But, his accomplishments, hisoverwhelming speeches, nor his envied height of 6'1 ½'' were not thereasons why my youthful spirit is at rest with him.There is but one underlying reason that compelled me to admirePresident Obama. He is a family man. For me, that reason is goodenough to put his country and my world's trust in his shoulders.President Obama and I have one thing in common; we're both hooked, notto drugs, but to the Harry Potter Series.

Yet, I liked him more whenMichelle, his wife, revealed that President Obama would spend time toread the series to his two daughters, Malia and Sasha, also fans ofthe series. For someone who has his daily schedule submerged inmeetings, conferences and ribbon-cutting ceremonies, he all the whileproved he was a better dad to his kids.I read in an online article that President Obama once had an unhealthyhabit, smoking. Although this fact wouldn't be a turn-off to millionsof his supporters, it could have been for me. But, not until I knewthat he stopped smoking on the advice of his wife.

I get giggles everytime I see Mr. and Mrs. Obama publicly displaying their fondness ofeach other, it seemed genuine. For someone who has been proclaimed asthe most superior and powerful leader of the world, he all the whileproved he was a better husband to his wife.He is a family man, and I know he's more than ready to lead and be thestrength of a larger family, his country and the world.

Just recently,I watched the Filipino novelty film, Ang Tanging Ina N'yong Lahat,starring Ai-Ai de las Alas. And yes, I laughed at the weirdestcombinations of proverbs and her impeccable obsession formulti-colored hair dyes. Filipinos really are suckers for corny jokesand odd humor. I was appalled that a governess can right there andthen be inaugurated as the president of the country. But Filipinosproduced the films with the best morals. Ina in the movie said,running a country is like running a family. I could not agree more. Aman's ultimate success is not completely measured in the million'sworth of bank accounts or high-ranking positions, but in the end itboils down with his relationship with his family.The country is made up of millions of families which share the sameamount of suffering, triumphs and hopes. It would be too soon forsomeone to lead a country while his kids are seeking for a father toput them to sleep while reading bedtime stories. It would be too soonfor someone to lead a country while his wife is yearning for a husbandto put up personal conversations with while spoiling each other withhugs and kisses.

There is a reason why the family is the basic unit ofsociety. I believe that one can't be a good president, unless he firstbecomes a good father and a good husband.

Barack Obama is a family man; a good father, a loving husband.

That's enough reason to place the world's trust in him.

Good luck (01/27/09)

Good Luck
By: Maria Reylan M. Garcia

Last two minutes. For a second, I thought my eyes were gettingblurrier than they already are. I saw my clinical instructor transforminto a stout man dressed in a black and white shirt tucked in a loosepair of trousers with a silver whistle hanging from his neck. The anxiety rose up as if I was aiming for the winning three-point shot ina basketball championship. I was taking an exam, and I still have twomore questions left unanswered. The choices weren't of any help, sincethey all sound almost similar.

My brain tried to help me out, andgeared to ultimate function, but the nerve cells appeared to transmitsenseless information. Last one minute. I had no choice, although itwasn't my habit I relied on its temptation. I heaved a deep breathand, Ini.. mini.. miny.. moe... The tip of my pen landed twice onletter A for the first number, and letter C for the second. Though Iwas heavy-hearted I subdued myself and wrote my wild guesses. I reliedthose two questions on pure luck.

Luck, for some people, is already listed in their roster of basicneeds in surviving life's jungle. The growing demand for reliable FengShui experts sets furniture into the most unusual positions in yourliving room, assuring you that placing your couch just a few meters onthe left of your toilet bowl will bring you good tidings. The eternalmarket of psychic hotlines and sidewalk fortune tellers foresees theimmortality of their crystal balls, guaranteeing you that Mr. Right will be the 999th man you'll meet tomorrow. The emergence ofhoroscopes in almost every print media have given others more reasonsto read the entertainment section other than the comic strips, makingthem believe that the pinching Scorpio will find great acquaintancewith double-team Gemini. Our lifestyle today had been one way oranother tainted by the belief of luck.

As I would see it, we would usually rely on luck when all that's leftis luck itself. I had no clue on what to answer on those two items onmy exam, even if my brain could have suffered countless episodes ofseizures, it won't be of any help. My old noodle has failed me. I amafraid of taking chances and I want to be always sure. In short, Iain't a risk-taker. But since I'd rather have the 25% of getting rightthan leaving those two items blank and tremble at 0% chance, I usedthe last sixty seconds to chant and hum the melody of pure luck. Theidea of luck may seem reckless, unsure and in most cases unfair. If one person gets the luck, the other one will certainly suffermisfortune.

Those multi-million winners of lotteries may certainly beobjects of jealously for some unfortunate gamblers. Those apprehensivecontestants on any game show which involves spinning wheels or 26brief cases would certainly keep their fingers cross after making sucha wild and bold decision to deny the hundred thousand offer and go forthe million. But, the idea of luck gives life more flavor and zest;you keep going on because you wanted to achieve that luck. Luck, inone way or another, in the quest for it, strengthens hope.I would often hear people say, "Luck is on your side." Then I thoughtof how luck came to be on anyone's side.

The world revolves around thegive-and-receive principle; you receive luck but you have to givesomething as well. Those who have luck tailing their behinds mighthave done something to deserve such luck. They could have suffered alot in the past, extended help and assistance to others or refrainedfrom doing mischievousness. A successful restaurant owner who wouldn'thave less than five hundred hungry customers per day could havesuffered a decade of struggle to the extent of eating less than threetimes day.

We need to work for luck, standing there; stagnant andstationary, it won't get you anywhere. Even if you spend your lifetimeinside a casino, just standing inside a casino with all the chancesand opportunities for you to have tens of thousands in one gamble, butyou didn't take risks, luck may never find his way to you.I must have done something good before our exam, that when we checkedour papers, I got a perfect score, getting correct on every itemincluding those two significant ones that were out of pure luck. Itmay have also been the three consecutive daily quizzes I had thatweren't satisfactory to my satisfaction, thus I suffered someconsiderable amount of regret and misery. But whatever the case, I knew I deserved that luck.

Yet, I won't always rely on it. I'll justmake sure that I have done everything and exhausted all until I'll seek for its help.

For whatever you are going to do later,I wish you Good luck.

Where did I come from? (01/20/09)

Where did I come from?
By: Maria Reylan M. Garcia

Every parent would agree with me that one of their biggest dilemmas inchild-raising would often start with their toddler's question, Wheredid I come from? There goes the story of an old flying stork withinfants swaddled in white muslin hanging on his long bill, droppingthem off to an expectant couple's doorstep. Then, here come themisleading explanations: you were there fruit of our love, you weregiven to us by God, and you were an angel sent from heaven. Parents may each have their own style of reason or in other cases, their ownstyle of evading the question. Soon, the child will grow up, learnreproductive anatomy and physiology, then realize that those raginghormones were the culprits of his existence.

But I am certain, that the day I understood that a wiggling flagellumof a motile sperm has to defy the pressures of temperature, acidityand even his fellow sperms just to fertilize an anxious ovum, I simplysmiled, a bit disgusted if I have to be extra honest. I did not smilebecause my malicious device has been tuned up to work, but I smilebecause having a baby is one of the few miracles that could happen insomeone's life.Just when the womb begins to inflate, begins the expectant mother'sagonizing forty or so weeks of pregnancy and the father's never endinganxiety. I studied Normal Obstetrics just a few days ago, andthroughout the three trimesters of pregnancy, may mark the happiestand most disturbing phase of a couple's life.

I don't intend to give apre-natal counseling and how-to-do tips, but I intend to emphasize the
very reason why we, children need to respect and love back ourparents.Imagine, an unknown woman to you, who never knew your future flaws andlimitations, who never knew you could hurt her so much with yourimpeccable attitude, could love you so much and bear to risk her lifefor you to have life. They say the pain felt in labor and deliveryamounts to tenfold the throbbing discomfort of constipation, and yetour mothers pushed without second thoughts. They say the complicationsof eclampsia that could leave your mother in coma, the possibility ofmiscarriage, and the psychological depression are to be feared whenhaving a baby, and yet our mothers conquered without doubts.Imagine, a stranger, a man unknown to you, who never knew yourunending days of buy me this and buy me that, who never knew you candisappoint him with your reckless stunts, could love you so much andstand on his strong feet to raise a family. They say fathers don'thave their share of sacrifices during pregnancy, that they won't feelexcruciating contractions and early morning sickness. But, they dohave their own psychological battles of accepting the responsibility,the lifetime vocation of raising a family rather than a single man whocan enjoy night outs without restrictions.

Indeed it is a miracle how a man and a woman could give life and loveto a toothless, drooling and bald stranger. The rise and fall ofproblems doesn't end in your first birthday, for as long as you willlive your problems, your confusions, your tantrums will all be placeupon your parents' shoulders. I feel sad of the thousands of childrenwho went astray from their parents. I understand that they sometimes could misunderstand us, forget our personal space, or hinder our verysource relaxation, but you know, even how strict and austere yourparents our, their love remains true and untainted.

They have been in our shoes and we still haven't been in theirs, as my mother wouldalways say "Mabal-an mo na lang na kung Nanay ka naman". The very factthat they let you live is already a strong indication of their love.They could opt to abort you to get free from all the futureresponsibilities, but they chose to let you live, they chose to feelthe pain and confusion of parenthood.

When we were shown a live video of a woman giving birth in a deliveryroom, most of my classmates were astonished and gave some considerableshrieks and giggles. But, I was there at the back of the classroom,with little teardrops jerking from the side of my eyes. Not because I was scared that one day I'll be in that woman's position, grieving inpain; but, because I have that same kind of woman waiting for me athome everyday, loving me more each day, since almost eighteen yearsago.

Where did you come from?
Stop whining and follow your parents.

Force (01/13/09)

Force
by Maria Reylan M. Garcia

A legend was told about two heavenly supremes, the Sun and the Wind, who seem to have an eternal rivalry unto who reign more powerful. One day, both decided to settle the dispute once and for all through a simple contest. They looked down on the face of the earth and saw a man walking towards the wheat fields. The Sun and the Wind both agreed that whoever could let the man take off his hat would emerge as victor. The impulsive Wind went first; blew hard and relentlessly hoping to tip off the man's hat. But, the man only clung more to his hat, he didn't want his head cold. The patient Sun came next; shone brightly over the man and waited for the result with a warm smile. Soon the man's head was drenched in sweat and eventually took off his hat. From then on, the Sun gained the throne of most powerful in the heavens.

I once thought that the moral of the story was man's preference of being warm rather than cold. I could not blame myself after being on suspension for frozen delights after my traumatic tonsillitis. Biased, I know. But, after resuming to my tower-high ice cream fantasies, I realized that the moral was, not everything can be gained through force. The Wind was rash and thought that the hat will come off the man's head through might and force. But it didn't. Nevertheless, the Sun remained calm and achieved victory through a more tolerant course. Our nature of persistence in order to get what we want predisposes ourselves unto developing the much talked about OC (obsessive-compulsive) personality. I won't deny that I submit to raging temper, boiling blood, ruthless nerves and in some occasions, impeccable tantrums.

I took two subjects of Physics, one from high school and unfortunately another requisite one for college. I may suck at anything that has to do with numbers, but surprisingly I did pretty well in both Physics. If I remember correctly, Force is defined in Physics as a physical influence that changes a position of an object with mass. How related it is with a layman's view of force; it is indeed an influence that drastically pulls or pushes something according to someone's whim. But, Physics again tells us that too much force causes too much pressure, because both are directly proportional. Pressure is the result of force divided by a unit of area. Indeed, the more we force something, the more it becomes pressured and hopefully it won't reach the point when it couldn't hold further pressure and just simply rupture and burst.

Forcing a child to excel academically given her limited capacity in studying could later on give her episodes of misery and eventually breakdown. She may be profound in athletics but mom wanted her little girl to carry out her long lost dreams of becoming valedictorian. So mom forces the little girl to study beyond her limits. I won't be surprised if the little girl would become rebellious in the end or put her life in a totally opposite route. Forcing yourself to be as beautiful, dashing and perfectly figured as the skinny and slim models posing for men's magazines given your impossible fate of reaching a size two may later on bring you internal conflicts and false self-esteem. Good, if you have gained what you wanted. The mother and the little girl may feel jubilant and on Mt. Everest's highest peak if the little girl turn out to be topnotch of the board exams one day. You may internalize all the happiness in the world if despite your flat nose and weight problem after intense artificial methods have kicked Jessica Alba's off her beauty throne.

But what if even with all the might and force, you still didn't get what you wanted. Like the Wind, you'll end up questioning yourself if you are really powerful, strong or good enough. Goodbye self-esteem and optimism. Take the example of the Sun, doing what he does best of shining brightly; in the end he took home the bacon. You can excel in athletics as well. You can be beautiful even if you're plus sized. You can be appealing with your flaws, if you just know how to make the best of them.

Then, Physics blurts out in defense that force is not all bad, that an increase in force will result to an increase in work done. But, let me add that it will only happen if movement is present. Because work is equal to force multiplied by the distance moved by the object. Force is indeed helpful in one way or another, but too much of it can cause a destructive pressure that may hurt us in the end. This is what Physics taught me.

You can't get everything through force.
Take the Wind's case as an example.
Learn to be patient and tolerant.

Old Skul (01/06/09)

Old Skul
By: Maria Reylan M. Garcia

A true noypi wouldn't be caught dead without a cell phone. Yes, he doesn't care whether he can barely eat three times a day as long as he could squeeze his number for a 24-hour period of unlimited text messaging. This noypi, the lean mean non-stop texting machine, may be the primary reason why his country was informally dubbed as the texting capital of the world. I believe the noypi may have immortalized the fad of text messaging, that owning a cellular phone, regardless of the brand or model, has been a requirement and integrated in his culture. It wasn't long until English teachers became alarmed of the apparent conception and birth of a new language, the Txt language. 160 characters equals one peso, this may primarily explain why the noypi relied on shortcuts; the reason why we would ask wer na u? and get the reply coming na me. At first glance, it appears practical and reminiscent of the old telegram we were once used to, but the Txt language is just one of the several mirrors reflecting the noypi's habit of using shortcuts.

I always thought that shortcuts were just applicable for out of town road trips and in troubleshooting lagging computers with ctrl + alt + delete. But it seems shortcuts progressed into a unique profession of fixing, not with broken pipes or rusty appliances, but with processing documents especially on government offices, those shortcut advocates called fixers. A noypi, on one of his occasional Juan-tamad syndrome attacks would pay a fixer a certain amount in exchange of facilitating his NBI clearance or business license for a faster release. The Westerners may have spread the infectious addiction to fast foods and sachet and canned foods. I was surprised seeing at a grocery store dinuguan, menudo and afritada individually packed in sachets bearing proudly the advertisement: ready-to-cook, just add hot water. First, it was the coffee, then came the noodles and now lunch too?

Forgive me, dear comrades of my generation for further exploiting the secrets to our award winning reports and researches. How do we really do it? The benefits of the commands copy (ctrl + c) and paste (ctrl + v) and the free access to countless web pages draped in research and report heaven. A little flick of the finger muscle to highlight the relevant data and presto the era of shortcut research has been discovered. More than the Txt language, literal word shortcuts has been giving our English teachers and Etymologists relentless migraines. The name Boracay has already been commercialized from its old non-shortcut term Boracay Islands, but we were persistent Boracay then became the white-sand paradise called Bora. As if jaundice wasn't enough to diagnose the disease formerly called hepatitis, but the horde was ruthless and slashed the bones out of the word leaving the so called hepa.

I am not completely against shortcuts as it has made easier the lives of many including mine. I could not imagine texting all my thoughts to a friend in complete sentences consisting of more than twenty words per sentence with mere five pesos to spare. But, sometimes it is better to do it old school and value the significance of why they were before we came and compressed them into minimum scale. Researching especially, long ago when computers were still blurry visions, students would go to libraries and locate the topics manually using the long forgotten indices and table of contents to aid them. But today, some students don't even know where their public libraries are located but knows the best internet cafes in each succeeding block. Internet plagiarism is now rampant, please be aware that copying most of what you have not written is a crime. Moreover, some so called researchers would pass their so called researches without even understanding even a fragment of it; they simple copy, paste, print and pass. Unlike the old school way when you really have to understand or to the laziest, even just skim the general concept of the chapter so you'll know what to jot down.

I have nothing against fixers, as long as they keep things legal. But you know, at times it is more rewarding to have that business license on your palm through personal labor and patience. More would be the reason why your business has to be successful and flourishing so as to not put the long hours of standing in line to waste. I have nothing against fast foods or ready-to-cook foods, I would often times munch on them on a busy meal. But, there's nothing like home made meals, although they would take time but as they say, it's worth the wait.

I am guilty of using the Txt language, but I have been constantly trying to establish complete messages if ever I could and given the enough load.

Shortcuts are indeed helpful and practical.
No questions there.
Oldo, ders nothng lyk d old skul.

I would like to greet the two most amazing person's in my life, a happy 19th anniversary. Reyno and Llane Garcia.

New Year's Resolution (12/30/08)

New Year's Resolution
Maria Reylan M. Garcia


I remember back in grade school, when I still prefer pigtails sprouting from every corner of my head than a coveted cute guy's cell phone number. An abounding enthusiasm fueled me every time we go back to school after Christmas vacation. There were eternal chitchats of experiences from family reunions, whether the godparents had remembered to be more generous during the holidays or have just been excessively frugal and bitter. Some proudly expose their unfortunate fingers mourning for the lost of a brave Mr. Thumbman or a daring little Pinky. But what I was looking forward to the most was the sharing of our New Year's Resolution in front of the whole class. Everybody then, gets a chance to be a politician a couple of times in their lives. I spend almost a week of my vacation perfecting my resolution list filling up every space of a half lengthwise piece of intermediate paper, back to back. I was so geared up to start my year right. I was vibrant with childlike hope of changing for the better.


Everyone makes resolutions, although not all put it on writing, some just keep those to-do lists scribbled in their minds. Everyone makes resolutions to emancipate change. Change is universal, this mainly presents the reality that man seeks for improvement and doesn't satisfy himself with mediocrity. If there is a room to modify in order to gain more, if there is a space to remodel in order to profit more, then man would be tempted to aspire, to dream, to hope. Alexander Grahambell might have gotten tired in walking almost half a mile to order a pepperoni pizza and decided to include inventing a telephone to cater for delivery service a part of his New Year's resolution. The ancient cave men may have gotten annoyed with dragging bulky mammoth meat on their own and decided to include creating wheels as part of their New Year's resolution. The desire for change has been a catalyst for progress and it has given birth to almost everything visual and tangible in today's society.

These made me realize that a list of New Year's Resolution could be the start of the step-by-step building of what was long been the popular answer of beauty pageant titlists, unity and world peace. Too ideal? Too childlike? True, but all big and huge starts small. Next year, I promise to obey what mommy says especially with finishing completely my meals because not everyone can eat like I do. A ten-year old swears to accomplish this task the next year, what if he could? He'll learn to appreciate his economic luck and soon grow to be a one in a million politician who'll serve the people the way mommy taught him how to. Next year, I'll spend less on fabulous dresses and chic jeans even if their on sale and spend more for my school requirements to help dad save up for the much harder times. A college student promises to survive on two pairs of jeans, what if she can? She'll graduate and save her country from one count of unemployment and soon turn out as a professional, useful and productive. There are millions—rather billions of resolutions and if all of them were accomplished, a radical change, a global change might take place.


But, then again reality pinches and slaps me hard on the face every time I pop out with a deranged hope-hungry idea. It takes time, a long long time until everyone will be able to comply with their to-do lists and mark them as done. But, I hope this year several others would join my ten year old self's enthusiasm in accomplishing some New Year's resolutions. By then, the world can change bit by bit and would hopefully accumulate in the end until one amazing New Year when everybody has no more resolutions to make. But since it may be next to impossible, I'll just be at peace with the reality. Besides New Years are a lot more meaningful if we have some list of things to do for the next 365 days. Just like the fireworks painting the evening sky with multi-color masterpieces, our lives can be that beautiful and ideal. But just as short as the display would last are also our earthly lives, so we must really take some time to have our resolutions and deem for change even just step by step so we can reach the full blast and radiance that we were destined to become.

A few others have started fulfilling their resolutions before us. A cool salt-picking peace advocate named Gandhi, a groovy democrat called Mandela, a sweet and charming generous lady named Agnes a.k.a Teresa; it's time we follow their lead and roll for change even just step by step.

Next year, I hope to touch more lives through the simple medium of my pen. I have more resolutions from where it came from, but right now I'm starting to accomplish this one.

Make your New Year's Resolution.
Then start getting them done.
Happy 2009!