My funeral will be a party!

Gone are the days when mourners would wear all black or all white clothes while walking the streets to the sad tune of “Hindi Kita Malilimutan.” There’s just something wrong with this scenario. I mean, death is not the end of life. It is the beginning of a new life, a life of freedom, freedom from pain, diseases and whatever other burden life has to offer. So, it's not something to cry about, it's something to celebrate!

If I were to die, I wouldn’t want people crying during my funeral. If they do or did love me, then they ought to be happy that I have gone. With all the things I’ve been through, I guess death is the easiest way out for me. Not that I want to die now, I’m just saying that to be free from life’s crazy ways I have to be dead, and since I am not dead yet, then here I am, still wrecking my brain of how I can deal with life. So, if death do come to take me, isn’t it just fair that the people who claims to love me be happy because I am finally free?

As for the clothes, please spare me the cliché of wearing black and white. These colors are just too gloomy for my taste. I know I like black, but not for funerals, the emotion is heavy enough during such even especially with everyone crying that adding black to it makes it unbearably sad. White, on the other hand, is one shade that I never have been fond of. My high school uniform was all-white and that gave me four years of laundry nightmare! I can never wear white properly, which is basically my dense reason for not wanting white in my funeral. I like green, blue, pink, purple, yellow also, even red. Just let go of the gloomy colors and bring in the rainbow!

I love music and it is an important part of my life, thus, I want the music in my funeral to be beautiful, hip, and cool. When I say beautiful, hip, and cool, I would mean those sounds that I enjoy listening to like EBTG, VST and Co. Apo Hiking Society, Indigo Girls, etc. etc. I have a collection so selecting music wouldn’t be that hard.

I still want the old school parade of people from my house (or wherever the wake would be) to the church. But instead of walking slowly while sniffing, I want street dancing and singing. Hear me! I am not joking! This is true! I want the people joining my funeral to be dancing in the street as they march towards the church. I am yet to think of a good song, but as of now, I think I like “Awitin mo” by VST and Co. (is my title right?)  

I also don’t want the balloons that some mourners would send up to the sky for wishes. I want pompoms, fireworks, and those ribbons that pop out of tubes (I don’t know what they are called). All these while shouting “Bye Bye Kyo! Have fun!”

But you know, until last Monday I was still wondering why I was spared from death twice, but after watching “A Little Bit of Heaven,” a movie about a dying woman, I realized that I wasn’t ready. The universe, the Supreme Being, God, will not take anyone who is not ready and by not ready I mean I haven’t done the things I want and need to do. The upside of this is that I have more years to live because I still haven’t figured out until now what I want and I still couldn’t clearly lay down what I need. The downside, however, is that I don’t know if I ever will be, and I don’t want to live to be a hundred. I, however, know one thing for sure; and that is how my deathbed would look like. I have this clearly painted in my head. I have my kids beside me and that’s all I see.

Nevertheless, regardless of when and how I will die, I still want to make it clear that I don’t care if I would be cremated or buried six feet under. I leave that decision to my family. What matters is the after funeral party! I’d be free, so it’s fair to party!

Happiness is the only career path

I was once again faced with a dilemma. I was recently accepted in a very prestigious school to teach ESL to Koreans for the whole of July. I was ecstatic when I was told that I got the post. Why shouldn't I be?  From the more than 20 applicants they received, only nine  were accepted and I was one of them.  So, I was pretty much contented with this job until another offer came my way. My former school offered me a part-time teaching gig.

Naturally, I weighed the pros and the cons based on the usual criteria:  salary, security, opportunities, and I even included pride based on which school name would look better in my resume. Then, like what I always do when I have a dilemma, I consulted my friends and some members o f my family.  Their initial reactions were almost the same, except for this one friend of mine.

While everyone I talked to asked me either which school would look better in my resume or which one would give a better salary, or which one would be healthier for me, this one friend of mine asked me a trivial question: "What would make you happy?"

Silence….

I couldn't answer. I very well know what makes me happy when it comes to my love life, my family, and in most other areas of my life, but apparently, except for my career.  The question kept repeating in my head, it lingered like a bee: What would make me happy?

When I was much younger I always thought salary matters very much when choosing a career. A lot of opportunities for high salaries came my way. I got involved in jobs that really pay well. But none of them really made me happy. I'm pretty sure salary won't make me happy, for if it could, I would never have left the corporate world for teaching.

Please don't get me wrong. I am not saying that money doesn't matter, it does. How would I be able to buy my needs if I don't have it? What I am saying is , when you have a high salary, it doesn’t necessarily mean you are happy. I've met a lot of people earning six digit salaries, but kept on complaining day in and day out about how stressful their work is or how they never really get to do the things they want.  Some would even bluntly say that they are not happy, but they stay in the job. So, this only proves that while salary is important for survival, it is not the primary means for happiness in a job.

Then there's the issue of resumes that would brag of a very colorful employment history with highlights on the names of organizations or companies served. Who wouldn't want to work in a prestigious company? I'm pretty sure I'd like to. But the name of the company is not a guarantee that I would be happy. I've met a lot of people working for top companies in the country. They are proud indeed, but some of them are not really that happy mostly because of the workload and the expectations they face most everyday. So, I don't think that the school's name is going to make me that happy either. If the name really did matter, I would have never turned my back on those two very prestigious school where I was called in to teach a few years back. But I did, and I only felt a very insignificant amount of regret which faded in about two or three days after I made the decision of letting go.

I have tried reflecting on the other factors that most people consider when applying for a job. I've looked into benefits, opportunities, location, etc. But, none of them made me happy.  What I'm saying is, none of these is my cup of tea.

I guess you're now thinking that no job will ever make me happy. I was thinking the same a few nights ago. But it hit me suddenly, "sometimes we stay in a job not because of the system, not because of the benefits, not even for the company name or the salary. We stay in job, no matter the stress because of the people that surrounds us." This was said to me by the first dean that I worked for, who later became a very good friend to me.

I felt so stupid once this line crawled out of my memory bank. How could I not have realized it? How could I have missed the one thing that has always made me happy in a job?

My primary source of happiness in a job is the same source of happiness in my love life and in my family--good relationship and communication. I love communicating with people, I enjoy being around them, especially people who cares for me, loves me, considers me a family and who I feel the same way for. This is probably why communication is my major. I also always go for a good relationship. I am never productive in a workplace where I am in conflict with people or merely just treated as an acquaintance.  A good relationship matters to me.

Happiness is the prime consideration when finding a job. To some people it is salary that would make them happy. To some it would the prestige. I, for sure, am happiest where the people I consider my family is. Whichever the source of happiness would be, what matters is we are happy.  Happiness, I would say, is the only career path. Whatever job we may have, the only path to fulfillment would be happiness.

The only question left now is, will the people I love be happy with me around again. Well, it's for them to know and for me to find out...very soon. 

Random Ino: Mga Sumakop sa Pilipinas

Ino: di ba maraming sumakop sa atin, Spain, Japan, America, China
Mama: hindi tayo sinakop ng China anak
Ino: Ba't maraming Chinese dito?

Life is "Sinigang"

I just finished reading the manuscript of the book that my friend Philip will be launching in August of this year. It’s been so long since I last read Filipino essays. It’s not because I don’t enjoy then, in fact I do enjoy them, it was just I was very busy getting sick. Anyway, this collection made me realize how I missed doing it so much.

I have always known Philip to be a good writer; I’ve always respected him for that. But owing to the fact that he is more than 10 years younger than I am, I’ve always perceived him to be a pampered boy; someone who lacks experience; someone whose childhood was spent boringly inside the house. But after reading his manuscript, I realized he was not the one lacking in experience, it was I.

The book entitled Sinigang Formula is a collection of Philip’s Filipino essays. In this collection, Philip tells of his experiences as a young boy, a student, a friend, a teacher, a man in love, a father, and a person struggling to be independent. He used simple words that every Filipino, regardless of age, would understand, and experiences that a lot of people could relate to.

I must admit, I was initially ambivalent about the title since it sounded so much like a recipe book. Sinigang, by the way, is a Filipino delicacy. It could have pork, beef, fish or chicken as main ingredient and it has a soup made sour by tamarind. It also has vegetables like taro, okra and a lot of others that people could think of putting in it. (I put tomato in my Sinigang, which to some would be weird) This delicacy is best eaten during rainy days but of course, for people who love it so much like Philip does, it would be worth enjoying regardless the weather. After Philip explained the title in the foreword of his book, I was very much enlightened. It was indeed a recipe book, but not for food, but for writing personal essays and for looking at life.

Since the collection mostly speaks of Philip’s life, some people might say “What the hell do I care about his life?” But then again, this book is more than just his stories. It’s something that would encourage readers to look back and recall events in their lives that they have forgotten but are worth remembering. I, for one, felt this after reading the whole collection. I was able to recall episodes in my life. Episodes that I usually could not vividly recall, nor could I put into paper; probably because I didn’t exert much effort or maybe because I just never thought they were valuable. 

My personal favorite would be Philip’s stories about his teaching experiences, maybe because I am a teacher myself. I love the way he described how he envied his students who would come in on the first day of classes wearing brand new clothes and using new school supplies while he was wearing an old pair of shoes and an old set of clothes; and at the same time was struggling to make ends meet. The teaching profession does not really come with a good salary.

I also admired Philip for bravely admitting that he was once told by students how his class was so boring; how some would shout “Uwian na! Uwian na!” at the first sight of him; how he got pissed at students who would retouch their make-ups during class; how he fell for one of his students. While I was reading these stories, I had flashbacks to my classrooms trying to picture what my students were doing while I was rendering a lecture.

I also enjoyed Philip’s essay on his childhood experiences; how he was so disappointed when his mother found a love letter that he wrote for his crush, and how he would rent a pedicab and pick up passengers just to earn enough money to buy Fanta. I realized how I missed out on some areas of my childhood, or maybe I am just too old to remember.

Philip’s life is simple, some would even say it is typical, but he treasured it so much that he even made essays about it to keep the memories alive. This is basically the effect of his collection—to encourage readers to keep their memories alive the best way they can. His essays would make a reader feel that writing personal essays is not difficult after all. It does not require unfathomable words. It could be simple yet interesting. It simply has to have the basic ingredients—experience and the heart to share it. It also follows a simple formula and this is to narrate; just tell the story in the same way we would tell stories to our friends.

I guess when this book launches in August I would not have second thoughts in buying it. Not because Philip is my friend, but because this book is a collection of a person’s life that was bravely shared to everyone. But of course, I would love it even better if Philip would just give me a copy for free.

Kudos to my friend Philip Anorico! Thank you for hinting me to brush up on my reading.

A line from Philip's collection:

“Inggit na inggit ako sa mga bata. Bago ang uniporme nila. Pati na mga gamit. Nangangamoy plastic cover at Crayola sa klasrum. Wala silang kamalay-malay sa pinagdaraanan ko noon.” ~ Titser 101—Usapang Uniporme