Jogging Afterwork

I have always wanted to jog afterwork in Makati.  Today, it came true.  Though my muscles seem to be aching now, it was worth all the physical sacrifice!  Not only was I able to exercise but the experience was also a wonderful encounter with different kinds of people and canines. Different folks with different strokes - some am sure were way older than us but I swear could last longer on the track.  I especially like the dogs who had shoes on. Hope I can see cats too.  Saw one but it was a "pusakal" which crossed the street in all agility.  Still cute to my eyes. That made me think for a sec how different the animal was from the dogs who were stylishly littering the park with nannies holding their leashes.  The park was also nice with all the lights hanging from the trees and the weather was cool that it was so tempting just to sit and linger for awhile after our several rounds of jogging and brisk walking. Hope this becomes a habit - an addicting one, ha ha!!!

My early monday morning today...

I am an NPA - no permanent address.  Ever since the family moved to Cavite,  I have been living in several areas in Manila nearest to my place of work.  When the company moved to Ortigas, I rented a room together with 2 friends in Mandaluyong.  When we went further north and moved to Libis, I decided to move in with my sister and her family in Commonwealth.  Then I went back to Makati, I now live with my other sister and her family who rents an apartment in Las Pinas.  Even on weekends, I live semi permanently with my youngest sister in her house which she bought via PAGIBIG in a subdivision near our parents' house.  As she is a single parent, I accompany her on weekends while my father stays with her on weekdays.  Plus, I also enjoy the peace and quiet of her place as our other abode where my parents' stay isn't exactly a quiet one but nonetheless homey with my parents living there.

Mondays. I would usually be coming from Dasmarinas, Cavite.  I wake up at 430am and make sure that I am out of the house by 530am.  This is to beat the traffic during  Mondays which seems to triple along this specific route from the South to Makati. I swear I can die bored, worried and just exasperated while waiting for the traffic to ease up.

My commute would start with a short P7 trike ride to the main road then another short P7 jeepney ride to where the vans cue going to Makati.  I don't know what so special about this morning but I seemed to have a sentimental encounter with the Filipino culture as I was riding the jeepney.  You see, from our place is an adjacent major wet market in Cavite called Kadiwa. So early in the morning you don't necessarily indulge in the quiteness of this odd hour.  It is actually about a 10-minute bout of riding in a slow moving jeepney that  hopes to fill its seats with passengers from the wet market (needless to say, it involves a fleet of jeepneys with the same purpose in mind stretching the usual 2-minute ride or less passing through that section to 10 minutes) and a fervent wish that none of their pales or baskets with wet goodies touch my pants (if you know what I mean).

Anyway, this morning, it was a bit different.  I actually enjoyed watching the people from the wet market with their pales and baskets of merchandise as they were boarding the jeepney.  There was a couple and an elderly woman who caught my attention.  Both have more than their hands can handle but, nonetheless, comfortably seated as if none of these things matter.  Far from me as whenever I commute from SM with bags that more than my hands can carry, I would try to tie everything up so that I can still hold on to them while eagerly waiting to reach my destination.

The woman had her back on her husband's breast, leaning lovingly on him and her husband sitting sturdily with one hand on the handle bar as if to make sure he was being a strong support to her wife.  The elderly woman beside me, with all the white hairs, wrinkles and a seemingly frail body, defied what was obvious with the way she strongly paced herself and gazed around her as if she could see things a mile away.  I saw these and pondered upon these things and I realized, how Filipino this scene before me was.  It brought back memories of childhood when my mother would go to the market beating the sun to its rising as she would be back at home just before it starts beaming.  I would remember the satisfaction in her face as if she nailed something really good that day. 

I felt the same way again this morning.  Seeing these people done with their marketing early in the morning when most would still be asleep.  An air of triumph hovered as I see them seated on the jeepneys with all their pales and baskets in place.  Nope, none of these brushed my pants, thank the Lord!  But I thank God more for their faces and how much it felt good just seeing how wonderful they looked having done with this chore early in the morning.

It must have been the jeepney's interior lightning... but  they really looked  and it really felt so dramatically good this morning having seen this very Filipino slice of life.

Talitha Koume

So now I am again writing. It's been quite a long time since I wrote. I had several posted in my Friendster account, which I deactivated and some of which duplicated in my Mutliply account, which I rarely visit nowadays. While the worlwide web is something so awesome,it could be so overwhelming that you can really get exasperated at times. Too many sites to see, even if they are your very own, can leave one so tired like you're being fed with too much of everything.

But I think blogging is something that I should get the hang of. I know I find respite in writing. I know that I was somehow blessed with a gift to articulate, at least, with the written words. I was thinking of writing TagLish but I guess our English training in High School way back in the 80s (St. Joseph's Academy of Las Pinas, batch 1986- yeah!!!!) is so entrenched in my system that I feel a pang of dissatisfaction whenever I think of doing it. I can still see our teacher telling us, "it's either you do it in straight English or just in Pilipino." But I guess eventually I would. When probably I am just so into it that finding the write English terminologies would be a betrayal of my expression. But for now, it's the good old sacred policy.. give me a day or two.. if I would blog that often.

Okay, before I totally detour I would just like to re-route this back to the topic of my first blog (at least in this site..), Talitha Koume. I love that expression. If ever, by God's stroke of miracle I am blessed with a daughter, I will name her that. Talitha Koume. I believe it's Hebrew (anyone who would chance upon this blog is welcome to correct itif my memory did not serve me right) meaning "Get up little girl." Such expression of hope! What makes this all the more meaningful is the story behind it and who said it.

For Christians out there, specially Sunday Schoolers ( I was one, still have a visual memory, though hazy now, of me sitting right there in front of my teacher during my first Sunday School class, I was 5 or 6 then), this probably sound familiar. This was a story of Jesus being led to the house of a man called Jairus whose daughter died. Jesus said, no she didn't die, she was just sleeping. He went into the house of Jairus, held the girl by the hand ( or something like that) and said, "Talitha Koume".. " Get up little girl.." and she woke up and stood up.

I love this phrase because it is a conviction coming from God and His very words that made the girl get up. I think in our life's journey there is a lot falling down happening. Many people will witness that happen. Your loved ones, your family, your friends, your enemies... some will not have the courage to challenge it.. some will even push or pull you further down... including yourself. And so you fall down big time. There will be a lot of those moments when you can't simply get up and you just stay down.

I guess what I am saying is that I do have a lot of those moments. Sometimes, I would even want to shut it all out and wish to be taken home. Just go home. Some friends are already there anyway. Would be nice to be reunited... But I am still breathing. And for as long as I am alive, I guess God would always want me to get up. The beauty of that He will never tire to tell me to get up and He would give me the strength to get up.

Before God I am just a little girl who will always stumble even if I am walking with His hand in mine. And He will always be there to tell me, "Talitha Koume... get up little girl."

And so, I guess, I would be doing a lot of getting up in this site. Hopefully, as I am encouraged in this exercise of expression so will be those who would happen to read it.

May we hear those words clearly in our walk.."Talitha Koume.."