My Habibi

First encountered the word when I was in Sierra Leone, a call of endearment thrown my way by my then love of my life. It sounded very exotic, me having no understanding of Arabic word whatsoever, and I felt so much loved.

Habibi is an Arabic word directly translating as “my baby” or “my darling”; Habibti is feminine form of habibi, which means “my love”

Arriving in Palestine early this year, the first recognizable word I heard was Habibi, and I was culture shocked to hear it spoken between men — whoa! Only to be told I interpreted the exchanges wrongly (and maybe with malice) and should let it pass. I did, or so I thought, but I am not over it.

The word means my beloved, and in normal conversation, it is normally used between close friends of the same or opposite gender or between couples romantically involved.

For us non-Arabs, it can be (in English)  “my friend / bro / sis” when used among friends, or “my love / baby” when used romantically. In Tagalog, it can be “pare” for men and no idea what can it be for women 🙂

After being here for a while, I can let it rest and accept it as part of the normal conversations in taxi, offices, and meetings but I will keep the first impression and feelings I had when I first heard it nine years ago.

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I discovered too that there are books of the same title that tells stories about love … from the looks of it, maybe I should get then and start reading about my love …

 

Habibi bt Naomi Shihab Nye

The day after Liyana got her first real kiss, her life changed forever. Not because of the kiss, but because it was the day her father announced that the family was moving from St. Louis all the way to Palestine. 

 

Habibi by Craig Thompson

Habibi gives us a love story of astounding resonance: a parable about our relationship to the natural world, the cultural divide between the first and third worlds, the common heritage of Christianity and Islam, and, most potently, the magic of storytelling.

My dear habibti … hope you enjoy reading!

Learning from a Child

“The soul is healed by being with children.” ~ Fyodor Dostoyevsky

Having no children of my own, I am not without them around my life. In fact, I have one living with us even before she was born, and having a child around, made life easier for all of us especially my parents.

I learned that children are a good healer …

When before my parents were regular visitor of our family hospital emergency room with all sorts of ails, but after the arrival of A all aches and pains were gone and both my parents were always heard arguing whose turn it is to carry the little bundle of joy. With that, it reduced the visits to the emergency room from weekly to almost none in one year.

I learned that children are good diffuser when tensions are palpable in the room …

A’s mother was a child herself when she stumbled in our house one Christmas season. Clueless of what would become of her – delivering a child out of wedlock and in an unfamiliar place. My parents were not sold to the idea that me and my cousin will take full responsibility of both the mother and child and gave all the possible scenario of what could be — the “bleak” version.

Especially my Mom, she’s clear pf what should be done once A was born – to return them to their family and be done with it. Or so we thought! As soon as A was born my mom was the first visitor in the hospital taking charge of how-to being the only one seasoned in the art of child-care, to bark orders on how to take care of a baby.

After a couple of hours, all misgivings were gone and telling everyone that wants to listen that she’s a grandmother and that the baby will grow up in our house.

I learned too the children could be an enabler …

Since Mom passed away, Dad’s best friend now is A. They are inseparable except when she has to go to school.

As age progressed Dad’s health has been closely monitored and his doctors are happy because he’s able to control his medical conditions and very disciplined when it comes to diet. But when A whine, saying she’s never given enough food to eat (well I asked them not to give cookies after 3pm or she’ll be like pokemon-go character you cannot make her stop until you kick-her) Dad would easily relent and before we knew it both of them are enjoying jarful of the forbidden crumbs.

But above all children can love without condition …

Because of their innocence, they are capable of loving without inhibitions and condition except if she’s first honor I will have to buy her Barbie’s dream house … oh boy! 

In our race against time, we forget to be like a child – we try very hard to be an adult when situations can be settled without so much fuss like a child wanting to get on to the next color in the m&m bottle.

Maybe the world will be a better place if we try harder to be more tolerant, to love unconditionally, to not want more than what we need and to learn to give back and show respect where respect is due.

“A baby is God’s opinion that the world should go on.”
― Carl Sandburg

 

On The Third Day it brings with it HOPE

New year brings new hope no doubt about it but it also brings with it the unrequited memories of last year and years before that, whether you or for you and not necessarily love but more often than not it is about it.

The new year seems like a beacon that reminds us that we have to renew what needs to be done and if not then to dump it and move on.

Yes, move on.

A lot of us, me included, cannot leave some of our past(s) behind. We hold on to what should have, could have and would have been if only … we have that tendencies to overthink of the future that we forget to remember that we are actually at present.

The present, not wrapped in red glittery sheet with a bow, but an open gift that renews ones hope everyday that life will be different if only we choose it to be.

So on the third day of twenty sixteen, my true self gave to me is HOPE that

… life will be good

… challenges will be tolerable

… friendship will be real

… love would be unconditional

… freedom is sweet

… peace is possible

… travel will be far and wide

… kindness is eternal

… courage is in me and in you

… fighting is over

… surrender is godly

… differences are tolerated

… charity begins with me

Right here, right now!

Slow down, take time to reflect … it’s almost Christmas

I just came back from another work related trip helping people get over the devastation brought forth by the earthquake last April and May in Nepal. Every country in that situation, we always have to work according to schedule — to make sure we get to the next stage on time.

Time is always so important to catch these days … people seem to be not having enough of it. Sure I have a lot at the moment but when I look around, when I try to meet up with people, mostly tells me “maybe next time” or “let’s re-schedule“.

The next stage after my work was done in Nepal will require more time – development work takes time, needs a lot of trial to get it right and sometimes we don’t have enough of it until we move on to the next job.

But life is not a job – it has to be lived. We cannot always be slaved to time and say “we do this for our family, to have a good life etc.“. Sure, I agree but then, I am sure one can manage to slow down time and have something more meaningful especially for the season.

As I observe, now that I am back, and back here at home people are busy catching up with everything to reach the deadline for the coming of Jesus, the birth of our Lord. But is it really for that, that we are running after time?

We are moving too fast that many of us forget that we need to slow down to reflect what the season is for — a time to share our lives and love for others, a time to reconnect, a time to be a better person.

But it seems where I live, people are too busy to care —

Waking up early to reach the bus station before traffic catch them in the middle and be late.

Going home too late to let the traffic ebb or to have time in the night to find what else can be wrapped up as present now that malls have extended their opening time.

Rushing out on weekend to catch up on the remaining days to do the shopping that cannot be done on weekdays because were too consumed with work.

I am just saying that now its barely five days till Christmas Day, we should take the time to slow down and reflect on how we want to celebrate this year … whom we celebrate it with … and why we celebrate it.

May you find the star in your Christmas this year … Merry Christmas.

Besties I Call Quinta Girls

I told a friend that Timor Leste does not evoke any artistic desires in my heart. I don’t feel inspired to write poems which I often do in other countries except when I see the sunrise and sunset in the horizon of Sunda Sea.

The history of the country is heavy like most countries I worked in the past. The story of death and desperation is written  in almost all the books and non-fiction materials I came across with while there and it breaks my heart, and I tried as much as I can to understand where the people I encountered in my work are coming from when I started to deal with the Timorese — I am not always successful because people are complex and like every human I make mistakes. At some point the government advised the people not to write their report summaries with the story of the atrocities committed to them as the introduction instead to talk about their resilience of overcoming their adversities and become the one of the youngest democratic nation in the world. They became an independent nation in 2002 as the eastern half of the Timor Island.

The lack of literary inspiration was soon over shadowed by finding good friends that can be there to listen to you vent when the going gets tough and laugh with you at the silliest joke. The poems were instead replaced by memories and images of the times we spent together that I will cherish until the next time.

Coming from different background and with different responsibilities the girls and I bonded over evenings of stories, dancing, photography, karaoke, shopping, drinking and of course food. We took road trips. We supported each others work until we parted as besties after our contracts and missions are completed.

Over those Thursday dinner the regular became the Quinta Girls (and the boys became Domingo Boys much later). A name we coined because we sort of regularly meet towards the end of the week – Thursday and plan the weekend to unwind from the week that was and relax before the next week. We brought whatever we can on the table and started chatting, sharing stories and there are times we cook from scratch and finish off with good dancing or music. Eventually my house shared with A became known as the Quinta house – one and two since we moved twice in the almost 4 years I was in Timor Leste. 

The girls are experts in different field — human resource development, photography and film directing, monitoring and evaluation, agriculture, HIV / AIDS, rural development, organizational development, aqua culture, social inclusion, project management, disability, climate change, people and culture, video editing, grant management.  Name it most of the girls (and boys) have opinion on issues affecting world peace but we definitely know how to have fun.

But above and beyond our professional backgrounds, we became good friends until it was time for us to leave and move on to the next mission, to home, get married and become parents. Still in touch, updating each other and catching up on each others adventure after Timor Leste.

This is one of the perks of being an expat — finding gems in the rough and in my time there these gems are the sisters, friends I collectively call Quinta girls 🙂

❤

I Am Green With Love

Green

Is the color of hope in countries where there is strife

Is the color of the morning when the dew on the grass is ready to water the ground

Is the color of love when you share your life to others

Is the color of the ground where we walk together

Green 

Is the color of the rainbow after the rain

Is the color of life from the mothers womb

Is the color of politics that is selfless

Is the color of the water that gives life to the living

Green 

Has the power to invoke in us humanity

Has the ability to make us love one another

Is the color of our heroes

Is the color of war

Green 

Is my life

Is the air

Is you

Is me

Green 

I Don’t Speak Korean

One evening, I had a very light, unusual conversation with the local project manager (visiting from Pyongyang) and my translator. Normally after dinner I am not allowed to wander outside the boundaries of my bungalow  and so are they. But that evening, we all decided to hang outside our houses – spring weather was really nice and talk about life in North Korea, how it is to be a translator and about why I am there, which was to work.

You see, North Korea is known for it being backwards, hermit and anything our country is not. Maybe the country is but not the people, especially those that knows better, those that had seen an alternative life(style). They are not behind, not hermit but secretive – yes.

When I had my orientation, I was told that I am not allowed to socialize with my handler (translator) and driver when out in the field. Including not inviting them to watch movies with me or share my books.(I think I talked a little bit about how is the life like in the Other Korea so go check it out) But when you’re with them all the time, you have no choice but to share a little bit of yourself, break the rules and not to expect anything in return.  Not in North Korea, they are very calculated – never share their feelings (not even smile), they report everything to the “higher powers”, they write everything and they have I think their own code.

Scary? yes but understandable. It was due to the kind of environment they have and the “propaganda” that bombards them everyday of their life. From the time they wake up to the time they sleep they have to relive everything in their Juche Principles even though I know some of them are rebelling (at least those that knows the difference) most have no choice, most it’s the only life they know.

That evening, we had fun. It was light moments of discussion, some laughter, and as the night progressed, I was surprised with a new topic Ro (the project manager) started talking about TRUST and their experience working with foreigners.

The main character in our discussion was my translator Yu. Lovely girl in her early twenties then (now she’s married and have a child). He was saying that I should trust my translator (maybe trying to convince me to put my guard down).  They talked about why it’s important to assign translator to us – there’s the sugar coated reasons and the most obvious one 나는 코란의 언어를 사용하지 않는 (I don’t speak Korean) and the real reason — we cannot be trusted! 😀 😀 😀 and the feeling was mutual (for the latter), at least in the beginning.

– we bring colonial ideals and we belong to the capitalist world (they are socialist for those who doesn’t know)

– we are bad influence (mainly evolving around our lifestyle choices — which I think was similar to theirs but they don’t want to admit to it)

– we watch movies, read books that gives bad influence (Gabriel Garcia Marquez a bad influence? K-pop maybe but they were not “in” yet that time)

– we are simply foreigners, we cannot be trusted (what can I do but at least I am not American)

The first 3 months (I only stayed for 7 months) I was paranoid with how I mingle with my local partners, including the cleaners in my house but overtime as the familiarity with each other becomes deeper it dissipated and I started to forget I am in North Korea and the two constant people in my life there are “spies”. I didn’t put my guard down  – I have no reason to be in the first place – guarded I mean. I am not there to be naughty only to be nice. I was there to be part of the foreign statistics who go there to help them (said without opening the mouth).

with my now friends — Mr. Cha and Yu Sun at Bujon County. We are sitting on top of the remaining ice from the last winter

 

The big revelation of the night was when they told me what they though of my boss, whose been there for a good 2 years when I arrived and I think stayed a total of 7 years (or maybe I am exaggerating).

“She’s like a submarine … she knows more than what she’s letting us know”

Hmmmm… what can I say? I didn’t know where that was that coming from but then again that was their opinion, I didn’t have to agree or disagree to it and in fact I didn’t discuss it with my boss — I think I forgot about it until now.

The last topic was forgotten (at least by me), we never talked about it again or had the chance to have a night out again :).

Life goes back to business as usual the following morning.

Towards the end of my stay, I stopped caring about their presence in my life, my translator Yu Sun and driver Mr. Cha became good friends and if she reported all my questions and all the things I said in my 7 months there, I am sure she would have completed several notebooks — I talk a lot and I am like a cat, always curious, the same for Mr. Cha.

I miss my time there and the people I met no doubt but whether I like working there again in the same situation maybe “I have to think about it”.

My take on my life there … I believe that everybody is free, you are free to do whatever you like, to think, to read what you fancy, to watch silly movies and express yourself. It is easy to be afraid of things you don’t know. The same for the people who have never been there – I don’t say I know any better, because 7 months of being there does not make me an expert but one thing I know they are no different than you and me, only the circumstances are. So no reason to be afraid.

Trust is all that matters next to LOVE of course!

Reflection at the End of the Broom

This is an old post I salvaged from blogs I closed. It was written after I cleaned my house during a long holiday in 2013.

It is funny how one can find meaning and be reflective on simple chores like house cleaning.

When you live temporarily as an expat, you meet people in all aspect of your stay there and all of them are transient like you. You gain friends and acquaintances and some maybe enemies but still they are part of your circle. When they start moving on and you’re staying you start to think that the cycle of friendship will start over and over until it was your time to move on. It can be sad.

Selfish thoughts I guess, but then again like many of us we are all just passing in this world might as well celebrate everyone you meet and cherish the time shared. Agree?

How many of you become reflective when doing household chores? Maybe 1 or no one … but yesterday, I became one, to not only tackle the dirt under my bed or the webs along the walls and ceiling but I also tackled what had become of my life in the last couple of years at the end of the broom.

As I sweep all the dust, my life came flashing back … all the events, the people I encountered and the WHO I am now.

Maybe it’s part of being in the fourth decade of being alive that one becomes emotive and contemplative, thinking what am I here for or what is my “purpose in life” kind of thoughts … what is really my purpose?

Twenty-eleven and twenty-twelve was a year of goodbye of people I met when I first arrived in Timor Leste in 2010. Slowly they moved on … life was full for the good two years and now it’s slowly trickled. It is hard when you became attached to things or people, it’s hard to throw them away or to forget them because of the good times. The short time you are together it was all good times, no pretensions, no hidden agenda, all in one clean slate and it was fun … but they have to move on and I opted to stay.

As I continue with my chores making sure I get all the dust from the corners … I moved furniture’s and moved them back or re-arrange them for a fresh start,  just like with the people I meet in my life: move them closer or out of my life.

I made lifelong friends, a handful of them while living in a transient world as I did, but I also met people who remains to be names or images in my collections of photos of the happy times and will never prosper to become “close” friends after we cross the path in this part of the world, but its fine, at least they have been part of your life and that is all that matters.

As I continue cleaning, I realized that how we clean and re-arrange our house is like with our life really … you get to a point where you can’t stand it anymore, that you have to take down the drapes or pick up the broom and start sweeping. Everything seems new because now you can see over the dust. It’s time have a fresh start. The same with your life … you get to a point where you have to see what’s important and what’s not and start pursuing a better life, with less clutter and more clarity.

Now I am done. The drapes are up, the sheets are flat, pillows are puffed and furniture are re-arranged, the house is clean! So is my life. I am ready to embark into the world of people again after the holidays … to meet, to mingle and create again memories of new people I will encounter and establish lasting friendship of those that stayed on.

Till the next time I am tempted to clean my house … but for now I have to be satisfied with what I have!

Boas Festa do Pascoa! (2013)

For the Daily Prompt: Sweeping Motions