Merry? Christmas

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

We Will Live!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

For photos, please visit:

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

Being Validated

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

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

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

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

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

Be Ready!

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

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

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

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

Zen Speaks

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

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

My favorite is the one of A Heavy Load:

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

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

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

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

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

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

To My Niece

Dear Coleen,

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

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

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

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

With love,
Uncle Jonathan

Son Klasuek, One Among Millions

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

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

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

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

The State of the Nation

taken from - monstersandcritics .com

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

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

The differences of political opinions have settled for a moment brought by the calamity and wishing that whoever is red and whoever is yellow (political affiliations) will just be remnants of colours and not political separation and anxiety. Thais need to work together to solve this massive problem of loss, death, and destruction. It is in these times that I have witnessed how people, though scared for the unexpected, have set aside their differences with one common goal, to help each other.

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

Longing to Escape

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

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

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

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

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

Like a Shower

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


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


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


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


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

World Teacher's Day 2011

Seems like yesterday when I started

yet the smiles are still there.

Seems like yesterday when I learned

and the yearnings still abound.

Seems like yesterday when I realized

though I haven't change a single bit.

Seems like yesterday when I vowed

to grow wise and great.

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

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

A Reminder

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

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

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

Dear RM,

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

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

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

God bless, A.B.

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

Leaving With Many

I was always told that I am stern and uninteresting that's why I was never invited to parties since I don't drink as well. I was speaking with a friend and he asked me if I have difficulties connecting with people. I honestly said yes but he didn't believe me. I shared my experiences in the Netherlands to a cousin of mine and he told me that I am so friendly with everyone, including strangers. Like a magnet, I meet opposites.

I visited Puerto Princesa in Palawan, a pristine island in the Philippines and I expected nothing. It was a sort of escape from the noises of the city and the burdening problems at home. It was like an escape from reality.

There were many factors that ruined my stay: late departure, miscommunication with the hotel pick-up, sorry state of my hotel room, and the bad weather. But this entry is not about my complaints, it is about the experience and the memories of the trip.

I met Mark, the trike driver who gave me a brief background of the city. Since I was alone, I dragged him for dinner and told him to stay put and he did. That was one superb dinner at Saris Barrio. I met Marissa and her school mate Virgie along with her two children Alexandre and Marie Claire. What an excellent group! I am grateful for the generosity and kindness showered by the the two children for helping me out during the snorkeling trip, as well as during the fish feeding fancy. I met Ernie, a father and former instructor who stayed put in Palawan after being in Manila since birth, and whose story is quite inspirational. I met Norris and Vincent, who became our tour guides and learned a bit of something from each. Along with the numerous trike drivers, boatmen and hotel staff, I went back home with a smile.

Being alone had some disadvantages but the richness of the trip made me see that I am not what people perceive me as stern and uninteresting. I was told the opposite. I made friends and became a different me.

My Summer Visit

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fallen

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

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

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

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

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

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

A Shower of Blessings

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

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

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

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

The Candy Making Machine

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

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

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

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

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

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

In The Eyes of the Children

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

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

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

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

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

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

To Take Care

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

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

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

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

Summer Artworks

The Great Kapok Tree

Camouflage

Jungle

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

The Rock

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

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

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

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

We Don't Teach These Things

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

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

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

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

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

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

Gone

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

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

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

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

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

(Just an emo post)

A Year End Thank You Note

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

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

Teacher Jonathan,

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

Thank you... A

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

What If?

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

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

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

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


Kudos to all educators!

Growing Moss

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

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

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

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

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

Happy Father's Day!

Cinderella, a Ballet

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

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

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

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

My Home

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Insecurities

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



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



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



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



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



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



So believe and live a beautiful life.

My Former School, A Revisit 2

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

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

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

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

Fond memories.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Steps

First little steps

as we hold on

with little grips of fingers

on your smooth caring hand.



Then moving on

to fall or not

determined to walk

on our own



Those tiny steps

became big ones

from walking off to run

but still off balance



Steady steps became

more of a stride

just with watchful eyes

no arms to longer catch



As we grow, we move

we decide, we took flight

our little steps no more

on our own we fly



We fall, we rise

we stood unabated

we searched, we found

our steps then mastered



With these steps

there will always be

someone walking along side

our destiny



Her hands to hold

when we started our steps

Now her hands to hold

for showing us the way.



To my mom and with

each step of my way

I simply am grateful

for what I am today.

past tenses

zest in life ended

when tribulations emerged

the will to live ceased

the smile withered

worry and stress shouldered

thy heavy load carried

of lost and death faced

hopes all shattered

thy life so soon belittled

nothing becomes highlighted

to thy being attached

meaningless air breathed

aplenty of tears cried

some brave courage mustered

pieces of hope picked

spirits in a way renewed

the time I long waited

to give thy life blessed

of heaven glorified

of spoken voice listened.

My Former School, A Revisit

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

At RMA -

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

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

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

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

Forsake Not

I will not forsake thee

though time had been our foe

it was time that patched the sore

of lost souls all wanting

to go back to its beginning

a start with joyous sparks

lighted with candid galore

but mists of grey and black

envelopes the togetherness

brought fear and unwanted distance

thy absence was my lost

but I will not forsake thee.

(a promise)

To Teach and To Learn

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

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

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

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

Go, teach, learn and prosper!

The Bearings of a Gentleman

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What I Dream For

simple life with great meaning

is all I aspire throughout

simple needs, immaterial

a fruitful existence about.

for to live in simplicity

is without any doubt

less of trials and insecurities

of serenity devout.

a small cottage atop a hill

pristine beauty and green

or a hut that stands still

on a farm with nature serene.

with plants and flowers abloom

of caring, admiring with leisure

purple, blue, pink and red

surrounded with great pleasure.

and when to live a dream

is not but inevitability

not easy but with focus

and profound ability.

Tuesday, April 12

A Short Musical Treat

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

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

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

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

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