A Painful Tradition

Filipino lads have only one fear they have to inevitably face in their boyhood lest deal with the shame, and the endless teasing of contemporaries -

“TULI” (circumcision)

Bata: "Wa nay sakit te? Mura ra na siya pinaakan sa hulmigas noh?

“Hunahunaa nga kas-a ra ni sa atoa mga lalaki, ang mga babaye manganak pa, mas sakit pa gani na.”

(Just think that this is just one time we guys have to go through, unlike the women – they have to give birth to a baby and not just one baby, which is even more painful than this.)

“Human ani, adto ka manimaws sa babaye ha?”

(After this, you take your revenge on girls.)

“Maayo nang karon ka matuli kay kung sa sunod naka muanhi sa barangay hall, lahi na imung apilan, Ms. Gay na.”

The curse of uncircumcision... or so they say...

(It’s better that you be circumcised now otherwise the next time you come here in the barangay hall, the only thing you would be joining is Ms. Gay pangeant.)

“Antusa na kay, nah, di jud ka mutubo.”

(Bear with it, or else you won’t grow.)

“…okay, pwede na jud ka maka-uyab kay tuli naka”

(Okay, you can now have a girlfriend ’cause you’re already circumcised.)

Hearing these absurd things from grown-ups who were restraining young boys from freaking out while their penises were being mutilated, made me contemplate for a very good reason that I was the one holding the scissors and sutures in the first place.

• For experience – that’s one thing.
• For their benefit – doubtful.

I would have just given a non-committal chuckle but honestly I had a hard time to mechanically go on with that “charitable” act amidst their drowning squeals of fear and pain. And I could not even personally empathize with them because I had mine done by a complete medical professional entourage and a handful of anesthesia; while the health center could only provide them with just barely enough for a brave 7 year-old boy to make the procedure… well… almost painless.

But nonetheless, I went on with it, trying to believe the tradition could do them more good than useless as it is… saving them from taboo and giving them the macho in the Filipino society. Though they have to scream like girls and say stuff that I could just laugh at:

Boy: Mama… Sakit kaayo! Agay!!!  Mama!!! MAMA!!!

Mama: Naa ra ko diri uy!!!

Boy: Lolaaaaa… Lolaaaaaa!!!

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Boy1: “Agaaay! De nako!!! Uli nakoooo!!!

Sir1: Last nalang ni nga tahi dong.

(on the other side of the table) Sir2 to Boy2: Ingna ko kung sakit ha?

Boy2 (covering his eyes): “Sir sakto na sir! Sakit na kaayo sir! Last naman to nga tahi! Last napud na ron?!

Sir2: “Gipalos pa gani ning imu!

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Boy1: Paeta!!! Waaaaaaahuhuhu! Sakeeeeet!!! Kapoy nako! Kapoy nako!

Boy2: Sabaa nimu uy! Wa may sakit! (while nurse was still giving anesthesia)

Nurse 2 clips forceps on the foreskin. Boy2 screamed like a girl.

Boy1: (laughed) waaaaah… bayut…

Boy2: Bantay lang ka ig gawas, patiran ko nang imu.

Boy1: ay sorry… hehehe!

…that experience might someday be embarrassing for those boys to look back when they grow-up. But as they walked out that room, they were and are now the epidemy of cool.

Gregg and Archie torturing the boys...\\// peace...

Talking to Miss Cold Pack

The grief had struck me as I sit idly in this awfully silent room. My #15 was hopelessly taken away from me. I mean, I could have not gone with the lie to excuse from work so I could lose #15. But I realize, sooner or later they’d have to separate us and perhaps in a more complicated way.

The grief is lulling me to trance of loneliness.

I miss tooth #15 as it’s named on my dental certificate. I miss our gnawing times together. I have always enjoyed relentlessly picking nasty food bits stuck around it. I remember that I have especially brushed it several times more than the other teeth. I took care of it with tender loving care.

No.15 was  a fighter, a survivor. He had been filled in, undergone root canal, leaked twice but still managed to stay stronger than meat bones.  Until a crack happened. Oral flora infiltrated him and soon he became helplessly brittle. The dentist said we could do a deeper root canal. Yet I could no longer make no.15 struggle more. It needs its peace and I need to save money. So I just had to cut it off.

I could tell that no.15 did not want to be taken away from me. He was stuck there in his socket for an hour since the dentist started to painstakingly wrench him out. I was charge double for that. But nonetheless, I can’t blame him. It must be hard to let go when you have been stuck together for a long time.

What a traumatic event that was, I never thought I would have to go through that hellish experience again as I’ve committed to freakishly dental hygiene rituals. The separation has made me a lot of realizations. I promised to myself that I will not let the toothfairy get a buck from me ever again. I will carry the rest of the 32 teeth, now 30, to my grave.
Pressed against my cheek, Ms. Cold Pack has tremendously soothed my grief of my tooth’s loss. Ms. Cold Pack told me that I may still be able to smile again…

Yes. Smile I must but it would not be any wider than it was before… no, not anymore.

MY FUTURE TIMELINE

Today, I have been hanging out in the simmering sands under the blazing sun. It kind of drained my energy even if I was just watching people fry their epidermises. And in that warm trance, I have been meditating on my future.

I’m currently 24 years old, with a decent job, but in the Philippines, single but reserved.

Before I reach 25 – I would be working in the United Kingdom with a decent good-paying job. I should be able to associate with a Kingdom Hall and be an auxillary pioneer.

at 26 – I should be fully spending for all my needs and wants. Study Anaesthetics or any other related masteral degree. I should be a ministerial servant in the congregation already.

at 27-I should have my own car and a dog.

at 28-I should have serious stable relationship with a decent woman. Must be a Masters holder or a certified anaesthetic RN.

at 29-I should be able to support myself, my dog and another person. Saving up for a house.

at 30-Ready for marriage. Visit family in America.

at 31-If married, must already have child to be born. If not, at least I should already have my own house.

at 32- My first child is born. Saving up for a business. Start writing a book.

from 33 to 40 – stable career, keeping a happy family life, and spiritual maturity.

around 40 – think about resigning from employment. Start a business.

“on Jah’s mark…ready…get set…”

Fruit Salad

I remember the time when my mom makes this fruit cocktail salad every Sunday’s lunch. I have always enjoyed eating one kind of fruit to another. Each fruit was a special treat… a unique flavor… a different emotion. Much like people we meet everyday. Some people are too sweet for you… some too bland… some are disgusting while a few are delicious… while some are unforgettable…others, predictable… and some people are difficult to understand but there are still those who are just right – and you find that you eat… well… hang-out… no, share your emotions with these people more often. Yet a fruit salad would not be as exciting when there is only one fruit… the more fruit would mostly be the most delicious… and the most expensive. Just like in life, there are people you may like while there are those you may despise just by seeing them, but these people make life interesting… exciting. So don’t be afraid to encounter these various fruits, find them to your liking as you taste them one by one. Then as you pour your cream and sweetened milk over them, you will remember that life after all is just like a delightful dessert.

When Love Let Go

They say love brings two people together. They say love bridges gaps. They say that love makes the world go ’round. They say that it makes two people as one… perhaps…

But imminently, people admit that the ultimate act of true love is letting go.

“How ironic… how contradictory… how can this be true?”

How can you let go of someone you dearly hold on to? Yet how could you hold back someone you care so much from its freedom… its happiness…?

I have known love so intensely before that I could not fathom the suffering I’ve gone through. And just when I know what it is and what it does, I fell utterly ignorant about it. I no longer recognize it even if it’s just breathing around my neck… or is it even there? I feel numb…

I may be just afraid of losing it again… I may be just a coward… I may be just apathetic…

But this is not the time…

Everytime We Say Goodbye

I know, yes, everytime two people who care for each other say goodbye, is a sting in the heart. Yet I just realized that advancements in technology might have unknowingly contributed in the diminishing sincerity of saying goodbye.

When friends, workmates, lovers, and family celebrate a farewell party for someone, it seems to become less genuinely emotional. Could this be due to the existence of global social networks like facebook and friendster to name a few? Cellphones with a roaming service? 3G cameraphones? Internet Webcam Chats? Or whatever ho-has that the computer geeks have come up with to seemingly connect people and make the earth a small world.

Yet, would that make life better? What about real emotions? Not just crocodile tears to make departing ones feel important. How about saying, “I am really gonna miss you”, “I am going to miss our talks”, “It’s just different when you’re not around”, “I wonder when we are going to meet next. I am really going to look forward to that!”, “Think of me wherever you go, and I’ll think of you also.”

Instead of “I’ll just catch you on facebook…”

But hey I’m really not complaining about the luxury of technology… I am just missing really missing someone…
so I can cry along with this song…

The story of a gullible boy

In the quiet woods of gnarled trees
I walked about in the darkness
treading the path to the riverbank
longing for the moonlight’s caress

Yellow and green lights
danced in the vast velvet sky
casting glints and sparks
on the waters that glide by

Yet wonders cannot lift
my melancholic face
for love once found me
then left me with no trace

I look about the aurora light
as it closes in a cliff
a lone flower sits atop
a beauty of a long lost myth

In the distance I behold
the spectacular display
a tingling warmth inside of me
renewing my soul’s decay

I ran up to the horizon
to climb that steep hill
where the jewel sits with majestic grace
an unfathomable thrill

So I finally reached
that throne of grass
engulfed by the flower’s glow
Petals scattered here and there
having only to know
A wanderer once came to
nab the flower by his hands
In an attempt to pull out its roots
emanating from hard land

But nature and time had nurtured it well
from its shoots to its blossoming bells
it fought with all its strength
to stay on where she dwells

I sat myself beside her undying bloom
to contemplate its beauty and hear its tale
but as I learn and laugh and cry
I fear of a coming ordeal

For in my heart I’ve grown such fondness
I could not just leave it there
I fear I might forget the quests of my youth
that to possess her is all I will care.