Ynarte- Kahit mga Bakla may Manang din

Nakaupo ang bakla sa may malapit sa may pintuan ng kainan kaya nakita niya ang guwapong lalaking noon ay naging kasintahan din niya. Ano nga ba ang dapat na maramdaman niya makalipas ng maraming taon? Galit?Matapos siyang iwan ito upang sumaa umano sa isang tunay na babae. Panghihinayang? Sapagkat pinakawalan niya ang ganito kabonggang lalaki? Ganun naman talaga ang drama ng mga bakla diba? Ipagpapalit din sila ng mga lalaki sa mga tunay na babae o sa mga baklang higit na may pera. Ngunit sa relasyon nila dati ay hindi akmang isiping pera ang naging habol ng lalaki sapagkat mas higit nga itong nakakariwasa kaysa sa kanya. Higit itong mas malalim at puno ng respeto.

Tahimik niyang tinitignan ang lalaki na mag-isa sa isa pang mesa. Waring may hinihintay. Wala namang nagbago sa kanya bagkos ay mukhang sumeryoso at tumanda lamang ito. Mga natural na bahid ng panahon. Kinapa ng bakla ang puso niya kung ano ang dapat na maramdaman. Kinilig siya siyempre kasi hindi niya lubos maisip na magkakarelasyon sila noon ng guwapong lalaking ito. Ano nga ba ang dahilan at natiis siya nito? Sabi noon nung lalaki kasi matalino daw siya, masayahin- walang dull moments. Exactly the words na laging ginagamit ng lalaki kapag tinatanong niya kung bakit siya.

Iniisip ng bakla kung lalapit ba siya at makikipagpansinan sa lalaki. Magkumustahan baga pagkalipas ng ilang taong di pagkikita. Ni hindi nga sila magkaibigan sa Facebook kaya hindi niya batid kung ano na nga ba ang estado ng isat-isa. Sila din ba ang nagkatuluyan nung dahilan kung bakit iniwan siya nito? Kahit kaunti ay nahihiya siyang puntahan ito. Nangangati siyang masagot ang mga tanong niya ngunit pinangungunahan siya ng hiya. Hindi niya alam kung bakit.

Umasa na lang si bakla na sana ay maunang makita siya ng lalaki at kusang lalapit, magkukumustahan at magkukuwentuhan na parang walang nangyari sa kanila. Kalilimutan na sa kanilang huling pagkikita noon ay iniwanan lamang siya ng lalaki at si bakla ay nangngangangawang patago sa halos isang linggo. Walang nakakaalam na noon ayparang mabaliw siya nung iwan siya nito. Pasimple niyang sinusulyapsulyapan ang lalaki. Ngunit matapos ang 10 minuto ay walang nangyari. Ubos na kanina pa ang kanyang kinakain at nakakahiya namang umupo lang siya doon at diladilaan ang mga buto. Nagpasya siyang tumayo na lang at daanan ang lalaki. Ngunit kakatayo pa lamang niya ay dumating na ang hinihintay ng lalaki- ang kanyang mag-ina.

Nagtuloy sa labas ang bakla na hindi alam ang kasalukuyang nararamdaman. Ngumiti na lamang siya at kunwari ay walang nangyari. Kahit sa loob ay lupasay levels na dapat siya, nagpakatatag siya. Ganyan naman na siya dati pa. Kaya siya iniwan at pinagpalait dahil sa pag iinarte niya- gaya na lamang nung kanina. Di bale nang laging nasasaktan basta feel na feel ni baklang ipreserve ang kabirhenan para sa tamang lalaki. Inisip niya, paano kaya kung di siya nag-inarte at pinagbigyan si lalaki sa lahat ng hilig niya? Sila pa din ba hanggang ngayon? Hindi niya alam at malamang ay buong buhay siyang bubulabugin ng katanungang ito. 

Veni, Vedi, Vakla

Reminiscing is my way of destressing. In times when pressure seems to be at my door or when my direction is clouded, I always look back at where I came from and how I came to be and surely i will be reminded of what and where to go. What they say in Tagalog as "di marunong lumingon sa pinanggalingan ay di makakarating sa paroroonan" is very apt for how I deal with my stress. Ironic that despite the fact that my high school life seems to be the most bitter part of my memories, it has always been the best part to revisit.

So I took time after my birthday to go home and look back at all the things. Upon boarding the bus home, i was hit by nostalgia. How many times have I boarded the very same bus line just to go for regional competitions or merely to make some visit to my relatives in Baguio? I have not always been good with traveling, I remember my younger days when I also used to shamelessly vomit. Now I cringe  at the sight of kids vomiting on the bus, leaving their marks just below the window that is so difficult to move up. 

I went to Bontoc and ate at the "official" lunch  destination during division competitions. Was surprised to see the menu still the same with the prices nearly doubling. Nothing much changed in Bontoc, the college and the high school are pretty much the same even the mode of transportation going there. On  a Sunday, vendors will pack the jeeps with their wares leaving little space for your feet to move. Walter Clapp is still as it is- my "official accommodation" during exams and competitions. I also remember an instance when my crush used to be at the other room. 

I went to Tadian to visit my folks, went to Sabangan for the other side of the family and savored Sagada to the fullest. I met some old faces, conversed with them and got some old emotions stirred. Nothing much changed in my hometown. I wish I have the luxury of coming back ever so often to eat my favorite cake at the Coop canteen, to visit Bontoc and stay overnight at the Walter Clapp, to take a dip at the Chico River in Sabangan and do a lot more. 

I realized one thing during this short time- I miss being me. 

Wait I Love My Your Remembrance

I believe that for most of the UP students who stayed at Kalayaan Residence Hall, the friends that they meet there remain to be their friends all throughout their college days or beyond. It is an advantage to have stayed at the dorm for you will be presented daily an opportunity to know some people outside your college. I am always the envy of my classmates who are non-dormers because a lot of people would always greet me. That I can say is one reason why college was not that difficult for a probinsiyano like me.

Inside the UP community are dorms that have communities of their own. True that when you are out of the dorm, you find comfort through familiarity with the fellow dormers. When inside however, factions are there-factions made by special interests, by partner corridors, by religion or by regionalism. Each faction asserting its identity.

I remember barely two weeks into my college life and we had this corridor assembly called upon by the resident assistant. Except for few talkative people, I am not familiar with most of my corridor mates. I was like standing silently while waiting for the assembly when one smiling face made some introductions. He said he is an Ilocano so we immediately started conversing in Ilocano as if we have a lot of common stories to share. My first year went on and I grew to know and appreciate this person as a truly genuine one. He is always sweet, easy to approach, generous and friendly. Even when he joined the fraternity, I did not feel an inch of change from him when it comes to interacting with me. He is a true friend.

All throughout my college days we will occasionally meet at the oval or on the jeep or at the shopping center and we do not fail to take a moment and catch up with the things that have gone with our lives. Even when I was passing by their tambayan and we see each other, he will always wave and smile.

Whenever we see each other we think of our first year days and laugh. We can not do that anymore. Only I can. I look back and not just laugh but be sad why such young soul is taken away from us. I do not question the Lord for the things that happened but I am just human and humans do have emotions. If it is a sin to be sad after all these years, then let me be a sinner as a testament of how dear you are to me as a friend.

"Misautogeny"

I have not been long in the training industry and I am still building my credentials and reputation so I am a bit uneasy when one Igorot organization invited me to conduct a personality development training for them. Not that I am not confident with my craft but I am unsure of the best approach to use. Every good trainer will first study the demographics of the intended audience to calibrate the training and come up with better impact. Ironic that I am one of them yet I am not sure how to deal with them.The fact that I was unpopular and unappreciated back at my hometown may have conditioned me to be too aloof of the idea of doing my thing with my own people.

Among those who attended the training, only the person who recommended my services was aware that I am an Igorot. Even during the introduction, I have not made an effort to tell the crowd where I came from and what my ethnicity is. I am afraid that making it known to them might affect how they view me as a trainer. I am not sure where I have picked that absurdity but it sure stuck in my mind that time.

A day passed and the training went smoothly. There are times that the participants struggled on expressing their thoughts in English or Tagalog but I opted not to reach out using our local vernacular. The revelation only came during the open forum. While soliciting questions from the crowd, this old gentleman kept asking something and had this difficulty to phrase it in English- I was touched by his desire to learn that I forgot my inhibitions. I asked him in the local tongue what he wanted to know and he laughed. Everyone laughed and asked why I know their dialect. I just smiled and asked the old man about his question.

At the end of the training, the moderator asked the leaders to deliver the usual speeches of gratitude to the resource speakers and those who attended. The old gentleman did talk and what he said touched me even more.

 "I am very glad that one among us can do something that you just did"

On some other occasions, these words might be too ordinary to hear. But hearing it from the old man with all the sincerity and respect made me very happy. Somehow the feeling of acceptance and appreciation from someone of your kind made all those doubts go away. I am not sure if a similar group will ever invite me again, but I am sure that should that chance come again- I will have no fears.  

Perks of Graduating from a Small School

Nine long years and I look back at the time when all my emotions were unbridled and all hormones raging- high school graduation. Although I was a nobody there, I am grateful that I studied in a small public high school. Not because I have smaller competition academically but because I was able to build relationships with my classmates. We do keep that special circle of friends but I know all my classmates on a personal level. In a class of less than 60, 2 sections since first year- I share a lot of memories with them. I can still recall the speech of the batch valedictorian stressing how after so many years, we will look back at both the happy and sad memories with a smile.

Being the introvert that I am, I do not have a lot of strong friends. Should I have been in a bigger school with more students, I might have been pushed to the side where nobody can remember me a year after high school. Nine years passed and I still have vivid recollections for each of my former classmates. Graduation day was a sad day for me. Graduations are a bit grand in the barrios, it is an opportunity to show off the cooking skills of mothers. After the ceremonies, all the graduates will go from house to house to partake of what each graduate prepared. Even if each house prepared all the same dishes, there is always room for some. 

Proof to my lack of friends is the number of people who came at my house. Only three of them came and might not have if not for the reason that they are too ashamed not to join me when I was with them the whole picture taking sessions. Looking at my graduation pictures, I have only 2 pictures with my teachers which is a testimony how distant and unpopular I was. Nevertheless I enjoyed high school graduation. It seems to be a portal for me to a wider selection of memories- memories when I was younger and is still dreaming where will I be. True enough, I look at all the memories whether happy or sad with a smile. Those are all the building blocks of what I am right now. 

Arte Mio

There was a time in my career when I felt like I was not needed at all- that what I was doing felt like way below standards. Have you ever felt that dispensable in a job? I decided to resign despite the fact that it was nearing the Yuletide season then. I passed my resignation and the big boss talked to me. He was the prime reason for me to stay on that job as he was gentle yet sharp on the job- caring yet unyielding in his pursuit for excellence. For a first job after college- this sort of a protective boss is a dream come true.

He left the job earlier than I did. He left us individual gifts and cards inscribed with his personal greetings. It was not the ordinary-generic greeting cards sent by bosses to their subordinates. All these years, I occasionally take it out of the box and read it. It never fails to restore my faith in my capabilities and assure me that someone- at least at one point in time is genuinely appreciative of my efforts. I have extended on that job for some months where I believe I have left a good impression- thanks to his letter that inspired me a lot.

Today that I am at crossroads, I took time to read the letter again. I cried just like before. Not because of the fact that I have satisfied my desire for some assurance but because of a deeper realization that I have long ignored. Together with his thought of assuring me that I am doing good is the effort to make me understand that the situation is two way. It should not be all about me- there is also that job i will leave who might value me but failed miserably to show it. I must not always be on the look for the protective boss for why can't I be the protective employee this time? I must not always yearn for explicit appreciation for at the end of the day,  what would matter would be the self fulfillment.

Years and distance might have separated us but he continuously inspires me with this letter that constantly reminds me of humility, of feeling content despite everything, and of sensitivity to others. He had also left me with a set of friends that I know I can keep for life. Like me, they were touched by his warmth. I will never regret having met him. I look to him although he may never knew how much it means to me that our paths crossed once upon a time.

The One That Got Away

How awkward can it be to see that your best friend is bound to be married to the man you have loved the most in your life? I used to laugh at dramas like this for I was thinking that once the mind gets over things, the heart gets over too. I guess I was wrong again for no matter how much I deny the truth, it is true that I feel envious towards a friend who will be marrying soon the one that got away. The endless barrage of "what ifs" still haunt me every time I see them together.

I will not play the part of the bitter gourd who will make the lives of the protagonists miserable by spending everything on my disposal just to prove my pain. For it is just a slight pain- a pinch in the heart that reminds you of possibilities with the one that got away. Endless questions whether you could have been happier and more fulfilled if you could have pushed for your feelings harder. Painful it is but not bitter. I do find joy in the realization that my friend will be happy and that they are fit together. Ironic that you wish them well yet somewhere in your heart you wish that the situation could have been better if partners can be interchanged.

It will be so much fun if they will invite me to their wedding. I might come in full regalia. I might come with the band. I might come with all the boldness I can gather.  I might put my best game face on and greet the newly weds while looking intently at the guy expecting him to react the same way I imagined. Am I sounding bitter now? Maybe not attending at all is a better option. No reasons for them to invite me anyway and no chances for any seed of bitterness within my heart to be liberated. Hoping someday, all the pain that is there no matter how small will be the one that will go away.