When Was The Last Time

When was the last time I’ve seen their faces? When was the last time I’ve heard their voices. When was the last time I dined with them? When was the last time I’ve embraced, kissed and told her how much I love them?

There are so much things going on in my mind, so much questions that need answers. Simple questions that you thought you have the ready answers but wait until you put the emotions into the equation. You would then realize how complicated the simple questions as what you have thought.

You relied with the advancement of technology in the areas of communications, mobile, internet, and others, as a relief to fill the void inside of you. Anxiously waiting for the day that you thought you can devote for them to reconnect. The day comes only to find out they don’t even blink in your radar screen and you start asking and telling yourself, “Did they ever missed me?”, “Did they ever realize that I am away?”, "Did they ever thought about me when they are in laughters?" or worst “Being away from them doesn’t make any difference anymore”.

So frustrated, depressed and disheartened. But still they don’t understand your frustrations. What they see only is your frustrations, but not the cause of your frustrations.

I don’t want to entertain the thought that they have grown and used to with my absence. This has been the case as I have spent four-fifths of my family life away from them. You may call it a denial… But that’s the only way I know, for at least in my thoughts someone’s waiting for me, someone is missing and longing for my presence.

Then I can tell myself, I will see their faces again, I will hear their voices again, I will dine with them again, I will embrace, kiss and tell how much I love them again….face to face.

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The Valedictory Address

As I was trying to find some files that I need from my external drive, I stumbled upon my daughter’s valedictory address. I ignored it and continue to look for the files I need. Besides, I have fallen out with my daughter as a result of her wrong priorities. But strangely enough, it seems that someone is whispering behind my ears to open my daughter’s valedictory address.

I might have opened it unconsciously and began reading.

As I was progressing to read her valedictory address, my thoughts are all coming back to me when she told me the good news of topping her class, just like a flashbacks from the movie. I remember how happy and proud we were. My wife and I started to build dreams of her growing up pursuing her own dreams and attaining all the success in her life.

Halfway through her valedictory address, my flashbacks of great dreams for my daughter seem to become vague, hazy and sketchy. As I continue, I began to realize that her valedictory address is becoming more and more an irony from reality.

What went wrong? I asked myself over and over and over….

Jae’s Valedictory Address.

Our beloved principal, Our Guest of Honor, dear guests, Parents, Teachers, Friends, and fellow Graduates, good evening.

Before I begin, I would like to thank the many, many people who have invested their time and energy into me over the years of my life. Without their assistance and nurturing spirits, I doubt that I’d be behind this podium delivering this speech today.

Tonight we have gathered to honor the labor and love of these teachers, and the dedication of our supporters; to recollect on the year with smiles and laughter, and finally, to say goodbye at this conclusion of a school year.

It is a privilege for me to speak on behalf of the class of 2006. I consider myself very fortunate to be part of such an exceptional group of people, a group that came together in June 2000, nervous and excited about entering those 'big doors' representing new challenges, and providing us with lasting friendships and memories.

It has been several weeks since I first learned that I would have the honor of speaking here tonight. After the initial euphoric rush of joy and gratitude, only one emotion remained: Panic. This is not the fear of speaking in front of a crowd. No, the root of this panic is far more sinister; I began to realize that NOW is the time for one last look around our beautiful campus before we march out from her ever-welcoming Gate.

As we step out from the gate of our alma matter, a new chapter unfolds before us, just like a book. The only difference is, our very lives are the epic tales inscribed in every page of the “book of life” we are about to author.

Tonight we will turn the final page of the introduction to the stories of our lives, but the tales are far from finished. The characters and individuals that we’ve written into being, will continue to live and will fill the remainder of our pages in the collective book of life with the intricacies and complexities of a ripened reality.

Strong individuals will lead the fights, win the wars, make the money, cure the diseases, and write the stories while the weaker ones will blindly follow. Fill our pages with wonderful deeds and accomplishments, so that others may follow us. Even the most seemingly insignificant act, if it improves the life of another human being, is worth performing for it can only affect our future for the better.

There is no way to tell what the future holds in store for us. We cannot examine the pages of the days to come, but we can read the pages of the days that are here. Some chapters are fascinating, dramatic, or even mildly amusing; some are heartbreaking, sad, and disappointing to read. Some chapters are long winded, while others are extremely short. When a writer fails to finish his or her story, there is always a new one waiting to fill the void.

The book of life continues to expand, with ink flowing ever onward, filling page after page with the stories of all who ever lived and touch our lives. It contains no appendices, so there is no place for special mentions, corrections, additions, or clarifications. We have only one chance to set pen to paper, and make our contributions to the book that we all share.

The future is but ink in the pen; it is our duty, the writer, to decide how the strokes will fall upon the pages of our story, and what structure the final tale will take.

Now that our time together is winding down, it seems too simple, too trite to say "I will miss you." When we were all flooded with endless successions of papers during our finals, I knew April 5th would be a day of joy, a culmination long anticipated. Yes, I knew this day would be a day of great relief and satisfaction. But as many times as the words "April 6th" have crept into my mind, I have rejected them, hoping to find some happier thought to hold back the tears from the corners of my eyes. Yes, I will miss you, because I have grown to know the friendship that we share. Tomorrow, April 6th, we will hurt. Next week, we will still hurt. But over the coming months, that ache of absence will transform into the peaceful, deep certitude. We never knew whether we would see our classmates again, but we could pray that by God's will, the way would be opened for us to come together.

To all of us who now leave at the conclusion of this year, the most wonderful year in my whole life, to my friends...thank you.

I would like to thank particularly those people who have made our memories here most worthwhile: all the parents and relatives who have put forth support and sacrifices for our six years' endeavors, the teachers who inspire us and forced us to go on when we’re about to quit and who have invested much time and effort to guide and shape us into the person we are today, and will become, our class advisers who are untiringly guiding us in our journey and the school administration for its constant leadership. And finally, I would personally like to thank my class, for despite many difficulties we might have encountered, individually or collectively, you all managed to make me feel like I was part of something great.

Thank you and farewell.

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Lunch-over

After one year and eight months on the job, it’s my first time to have lunch-over with some of my colleagues, IV, JM, RC and DD.

While trying to coordinate some issues at work with IV, I did not notice that it is already past noon. It was IV who invited me to join them for lunch at her office. She’s bragging and wanted to share her cooking, green bean sauté with bitter gourd and seasoned with fish sauce. Being an expat, you miss home cooked local cuisine such as “ginisang monggo at ampalaya” matching with a crunchy sweet “dilis” (dried anchovies) that IV packed for lunch.

I hurried back to my office and took my lunch to have it over at IV’s office. We were joined by JM, DD and RC. IV and DD bring their own lunch while the rest of us are catered by our company cook.

Funny enough, our cook is not a cook. Guess what … he is an electrician. So you would not be surprised how many complains about the menu, remember my post chicken all the way, not to mention the cooking. I am not complaining but just wondering if he is really cooking or electrocuting.

DD’s packed lunch is cheesy hotdog and fried dried squid, more like a breakfast huh!

Over lunch, cliché as might have been, we’re discussing about our local home recipes that we miss back home. Some variation of the “ginisang monggo”, Tagalong version, Kapampangan version and Ilocano version. I learned something today, the 2 variations of the Kapampangan version. First is the variation of the celery instead of the usual bitter gourd. Second is the variation where you blend the “monggo” to almost a puree. Must be yummy and I can’t wait to try it at home.

The discussion has shifted to dried fish, a famous product from the Ilocandia and the Visayan region. You’ll never get enough of dried fish once you’ve tried, you would definitely asking for more. Specially the dried young belt fish, thinly butterfly-sliced. But those who are not from these regions doesn’t know the process of fish drying, the old fashion way, which is still wide practiced.

Ohh-ohh!! DD just learned it today and she’s offering now her one kilogram dried squid she asked our colleague to buy for her, and yes for free. Any takers??

Anyway, I enjoyed having lunch-over with my colleagues for the first time.

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Chicken All The Way

Last week we were treated by our caterer with what I call chicken-torture. And to justify my allegation of a chicken-torture, just imagine from Saturday to Thursday there are six lunches and out of six, we were treated with 4 chicken meals. When I opened my lunch box yesterday (Thursday), it’s chicken again. “Man, its chicken all the way”. I was so mad that I stared hard, so hard that the chicken got up and make a chicken-run for its life….Naaah!!!

This chicken cannot amuse me even if it did a chicken dance by the tune of “chicken all the way”. What choice I have but to take my chicken lunch. Though, I was smiling while having my lunch, not because I like my chicken but because I remember a joke about chicken. It was told by a Singaporean friend. As you should know Singapore is a chicken-rice crazy country.

Here is the joke.

A childhood friends, a boy and a girl, likes to eat chicken rice. In any given occasion, it is certain that they have chicken rice for breakfast, lunch or dinner.

If they go to school, their parents prepare them pack snacks, and guess what, its chicken. Chicken burger, chicken nuggets, chicken rolls, etc.

This has been their way from pre-school to grade school and until they finished their primary schooling. Nothing much had changed up to their secondary schooling. They still eat their chicken snacks together. Buy chicken rice for lunch. They also visit McDonalds or KFC during weekends.

One day, the girl suddenly stops eating chicken. And the boy was very surprised, and does not understand why. He approached his friend and asked why she doesn’t eat chicken anymore. It’s been their favorite since childhood, why she suddenly dislikes chicken.

The girl said, “All these years we’ve been eating chicken and something wrong is happening to me”. Still the boy cannot understand what his friend is trying to tell him.

The girl said, “Come, I’ll show you something”. They went to a secluded place and the girl showed her friend what she was worried about. “You see this, because of so much eating chicken, I am growing feathers”, showing her private part to her friend. The boy said, “It can’t be the chicken”. Then they start arguing and parted their ways without resolving their argument.

A few weeks past, the boy called the girl. He said she was right and he also stops eating chicken. The girl asked what happen. The boys said that he wants to show her something.

And so they met and the boy showed what he wanted to show to his friend. The girl was very surprised, she said, “Whooaa!!! Your case is worst than mine, you don’t only have feathers, you also have gizzard!”

Recalling the above joke over and over, I didn’t notice I already finished my chicken lunch. I hope it won’t grow me some feather or gizzard for that matter.

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Alone in the corner

When alone in the corner, sometimes I was wondering why my other colleagues, be it present or past colleagues, can easily start a conversation among themselves. Some of them I also admire because they are approachable by others even if they are just recently been acquainted.

Sometimes I am being left out while they are horsing around, exchanging jokes, relating memorable and happy times, sharing foods or inviting each other to each others place while I sit alone in the corner. Sometimes I feel that I am being avoided.

I was asking myself, “why are not they talking to me?” And if ever they talk to me, sometimes I feel that they are in a hurry to disengage.

Am I rude? Am I self-centered? Am I domineering? Or maybe too old fashioned? Or maybe I don’t belong in their generation…. Duhh!! Or maybe I don’t share with their interests and vice versa. Am I introvert?

But my friends, those who know me very well, can attest that the foregoing are not my traits. On the contrary, I’m friendly, helpful, approachable and a jolly person. Now what is wrong with me then?

Few days back I asked my wife, why? And in candidness, she honestly said that there is nothing wrong with me. But before I can start tap-dancing, she blurted the spoiler words…EXCEPT THAT…

Except that I look too serious, with sharp and penetrating eyes. Except that I have so little words but forceful voice. She said that sometimes I sound like quarrelling with someone when in fact, I’m just talking normally.

My wife’s observation is further supported by our Pakistani driver. This evening while he was driving me home he asked me, “Mr. Jhun why you always angry?” “What do you mean I’m always angry?”, I asked.

“Mr. Jhun why you do not smile?”. “You are a very good person but you always look angry”, he continues with a smile. I just said I’m having a headache just to stop his questioning. Not believing what I just said he said “Why everyday headache?” I thought this could be a long discussion. I wish to reach home now.

I said, “If you always smile and smiling alone by yourself without any reason, then you will look like crazy.” “You want to look crazy or angry”, I said. He glanced at me while driving then his smile slowly disappears. I guessed he choose to look angry. I reached home without anymore word from him.

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Pacquiao – Hatton Fight Too Short

For weeks I have been anticipating Pacquiao - Hatton fight looking forward for a good and equally matched pugilist. The long wait was over only to find out that its over. That’s how quick the fight was.

I did not watch a live telecast of the fight but just tried to follow through the running account of the Pacquiao – Hatton fight from inquirer sports (online). I woke up just in time Michael Buffer is belting his famous line, “Let’s get ready to rumbleeee!!!”.

When the running account registers that the first round is about to begin, I went for a quick shower just in time when the fight will start getting intense, as I thought. But to my surprise, when I came out from the shower, it is already over.

That’s how fast and furious Manny’s fist demolishing Hatton. So fitting was Hatton ring name “Hitman” as Manny hit him with his lethal punches landing 73 out of 127. Most fitting ring name for Hatton would be Sleepman as he literally sleep in the center of the ring.

My first thought was Mayweather Sr’s big mouth eating his own words.

Secondly, I wonder what will happen to the Brits who sold their houses and emptied their banks to bet on Hatton, as Hatton urged them to do so guaranteeing his victory.

Manny Pacquiao has done it again making the Filipino race proud and etching his name in the annals of boxing greats.

One thing that I wish though, that Manny Pacquiao will not dip its hands in the dirty pots of politics. If his real intention is to help the people, he can do so in many ways but politics.

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Swine Flu

I just received this informative booklet about swine flu in my email from our IT administrator. I thought of posting it here as my little way of stopping the spread of swine flu.

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