Moda

My mom, being a true blue Ilonggo, fancies the word "moda" which means "fashionable", "fad", or "the in style". When we moved to Davao, she didn't care much about Bisaya and when she's around my Bisaya-speaking friends, she'd start off talking in bad Tagalog, and give in to her Ilonggo roots by the time she got to her second sentence. And everytime she'd say "moda" my friends would secretly laugh because "moda" is Bisaya G-speak for "mother".

Like most Filipino mothers now, my mom is proudly OFW, and like most OFWs my mom has a story to tell. What I will tell you though, is the day we baked a cake.

I was probably around 8 or 10 years old, when my mom decided to try her baking skills. And why not? She bought new measuring cups and she borrowed my auntie's oven (or was it an improvised double broiler, I cannot remember). It was the perfect time to bring out the rusting mixer from the cabinet and use it once and for all.

She measured each ingredient carefully. She tried to look like an expert baker but when she turned on the mixer, jolted and said "Ay, kalbo!", I knew that she was a noob and she was hanging on to that recipe book for dear life. My role was to lick all excesses from the bowl and the spatula. This served two purposes, one, it helped for a quick wash, and two, the official taste test.

The taste test was sumptuous. But to carry that same taste after the fire test was a whole new ballgame. My mom panicked when, after three hours, the top half of the cake still wasn't done. We've already used up all our toothpicks and have graduated to using forks to see if the cake was ready. We stopped pricking when we officially made the supposedly flat spongy surface looking like a moon replica.

Finally, we made it. We made an edible pair of leather boots. The cake came out overdone on the bottom part. Only 20% of the cake was cake. The rest was, as I've mentioned, edible leather boots. The texture was so tough but I devoured it as if I was Hannibal Lecter on a face buffet. I seriously loved it. It was the most delicious chocolatey goodness I have ever tasted.

What I'm saying is, my mom is different than most moms. She can't bake, but she passes on recipes for a better life. Her hands may be hard on dough but her touch is as soft and warm as freshly baked bread. We only see her once a year but her voice is always loud and clear as if she has never left our side. She hasn't read us too many bedtime stories but when we chat she'd tell the most intriguing real life anecdotes that can put my blog out of business if she decides to blog herself.

My moda. She's different but I wouldn't want a different moda. I love you mom, happy Mother's Day.

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Random Resignation?

Mothers' Day. 10PM. I find myself at Coffee Beanery, reading Love and Other Near Death Experiences, a novel about life's randomness and how the simplest action can lead to major life-changing events or death. On the table is my White Cafe Mocha, and one whole chocolate cake for the boss' wife. I have been reading the same sentence for the past ten minutes. I finally stopped reading the book. I bookmarked the page using my folded-up resignation letter.

After half an hour, I was already inside Lee's room and he's reading the three-page letter. For those who have already filed this kind of letter, you'd know that a three-pager is quite long for a simple resignation. Yes, it was a personal letter and that's why I went to the boss' house instead of at the office.

I told Lee to give it to his father. I didn't want to be there when he arrives. I'm not a coward. It's just that I don't want the boss to speak right away after reading my sentiments. I want to give him the chance to formulate his reply.

I left the cake for Lee's mom. I find it disturbing to be giving a good news and a bad news to my employers at the same night. At the back of my mind, I thought it was a cunning idea (if I had planned it anyway) to have the boss' wife root for me as he weighs my demands.

I'm ready to leave Qatar though. I have set my mind when I put my name on that letter that I will accept whatever the outcome. Honestly, I expect that he wouldn't give in to my requests. The only thing that's sure is that there will be a major change, and such change may be sooner than I would expect.

Lee walked with me out of the house. We saw his mom turn at the street's corner so we dodged out of sight. He couldn't go far though so I went alone. "Good luck, man. And enjoy the shuffle," Lee shouted as I trodded out of the compound. He has been reading my blog, my big fan (so he said).

Ah, the purely random shuffle. I have forgotten about that. OW has been in the shuffle mode for more than a week already. Is life really random?

I took out OW, selected the "Doha Nyts" playlist and played Vienna Teng's "Gravity"--the first on the list. I haven't played this playlist for almost four months now, I thought. Then, I pressed "More Options" on OW, selected the shuffle option and turned shuffle off. I've had enough randomness for six months. It's time to regain control of my life.

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God, Clarity and the Muse

After my birthday, I've decided to let it go, to stop ranting and to get through my remaining days in Qatar as quietly as possible. But some voices are just too loud to ignore.

The other night I had a conversation with God. I was doing my nightly walk and passed by a Mosque. I promised my mom that I'd pray on my birthday, and since I didn't do it I thought I should at least give a shout-out to God or Allah, whichever name He preferred here anyway (it would depend on His passport I suppose). I did not stop and pray, it was more like, I was praying while walking, but directing all thoughts to a minaret and hoping that the speakers protruding from the windows also held a microphone so God can pick up my thoughts.

I asked for clarity. I realized that in six months, I did not achieve anything here. I complained most of the time and made some people feel bad while I did that. I asked Him to at least give me purpose or the sense of it. Before you give me 40 Days and a book (and a complimentary key chain and t-shirt), spare me, I'm not that lost.

I said I had a conversation with God. A conversation means that a message was sent and a reply was received. I say that because I think He answered me. Right after I left the green on the Mosque's compound, Natalie Merchant's "Wonder" played on OW:

"they say I must be one of the Wonders of God's own creation, and as far as they see they can offer no explanation. I believe fate smiled and destiny laughed as she came to my cradle. Know this child will be able. Laughed as my body she lifted, know this child will be gifted. With love, with patience
and with faith."

Merchant, Natalie ...

Of course I brushed it off as a coincidence. OW was still on shuffle mode and it's not like I'd deliberately play it just to make it all cinematic and force goosebumps on my skin. But then, as I walked farther I met the PC Guy who was trying to convert me, and while it's not unlikely that I'd meet him there, it was the first time that that happened.

I'm crazy, I know. I'm not good in math but when I add these two together I can only assume that my prayers have been answered (damn! I wish I had prayed for a million bucks! Clarity. What a loser. LoL). The instances did not offer me a particular message. But the assurance that I was heard and acknowledged was enough.

Then, this morning, I woke up with a solid idea. I'm going back to my writing. Not blog writing but scriptwriting. And I have to do it before I leave Doha. That will be my purpose here!

Enough ranting. Enough complaining. I don't care anymore that I woke up sweaty today because my friggin Chinese roommate has low tolerance to cold temperatures and has turned off the AC just as the dawn's heat was creeping up. I don't care anymore that last night the boss made me write emails at 11PM. I don't care anymore that the office is impossibly loud today with thousands of people talking er shouting in unison.

Actually, I do mind that last one. Shut up, people! I'm trying to think now. The muse is back and she only has two weeks on her visa. I need to write while she's still here. I need to write while I'm still here.

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The Shuffle

Tonight I got out of the office at 9:30. Before, I would've felt guilty leaving my post while the boss is still around. But now, I don't care. The office has been a crazy place since the very start. Its lack of organization or even the simplest system results to disgruntled employees (yes, including me--surprise surprise ey?) who can't wait to get away permanently or temporarily. That's why it was a good decision to walk to a distant cake shop to get sapid sweets while listening to Orange W (for future reference, this is what I'm calling the Walkman phone from now on or better yet, OW). OW was on shuffle mode and it got me thinking, how does shuffle work? What brilliant technology is behind it? Is its randomness an act of fate or simple mathematics? Then, back to reality where our own shuffle in the office has happened yet again.

I've been a victim of the famous iBoss Shuffle a few times and I know how it feels. Without any advance notice he'd just tell me to go to the internet cafe and take the shift there. His employees are just songs on an iPod, play, pause, skip, stop. Tonight though it was somebody else. And I feel sorry for this Nepali guy, our office boy, because he gets shuffled just cause some smart a$5 at the internet cafe needed some detention.

Yep, the office also doubles as a boot camp. Got some staff that needs spanking? Send them to us, free of charge. We'll even send our best office boy in place of your man while he cleans toilets in our office. The shuffle lasts for a week or a month depending on the damage done by said staff. And while the boss thinks he's got it all figured out by taking disciplinary action, we get our schedules disturbed and tasks doubled because we need to "train" the piss-offs.

When I got back to the office, the boss had left and I found the next-door PC guy (guy who works at the computer shop next door) lounging on our side of the court. Two nights straight now I would find him sitting in my comfort zone so I had to ask. "I'm working here now" he said. See? The office's "system" is so random that you never expect what's going to happen next--a secretary goes AWOL, a PC guy gets recruited--and the boss doesn't even bother to explain the turn of events. We figure it out for ourselves.

Then PC guy told me the whole story, from his whole miserable year under PC Boss to how my boss saved his career two days ago by offering him a job here in our office. "So how's your boss as a boss?" he asked me finally. I had a lot to say but didn't. I didn't want to spoil his fantasy job. And besides, my story needs a case of beer and sizzling sisig and PC guy, being Muslim, won't even tolerate a Non-Alcoholic Bud much more a minced pig's head on a hot plate.

"I noticed that you like to read, yani, so what do you like to read in, yani, particular?" PC guy said nodding at the book I was holding. I know where it's headed, he's going to convert me, he wants me to read the Quran instead, I thought. But I'm glad I was holding the right book, one that has a deceivingly friendly title but with an attitude: Love and Other Near Death Experiences. I almost laughed when I showed and read the title to him.

He talked a little bit more but in my mind I already pressed the mute button and spaced out. If the boss can do it, so can I. I watched PC guy's mouth move but there was no sound or maybe I refused to accept any sound. Tonight, it's my shuffle working. Stop, play, pause, skip.

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Birthday Gift Came Early

It's still three days before my birthday but already somebody gave me a wonderful gift. I just found out today that I've been listed in Qatar Visitor's list of Best Blogs in Qatar. The news comes as a surprise because I have never expected other people to read my posts except for my family and friends. I can only hope to extend my readership outside my circle and it's a slow progress. So, to the guys in Qatar Visitor (John is it?) thank you so much for the recognition. You've made me feel welcome not only to the world of blogging but also to Qatar.

Also, I would like to thank Derf for the truly fabulous header he made me (there are three actually). I'll be using them in the months to come. Derf, I'm still working on the button thing. For some reason blogger won't display linked images. Anyway, it's complicated but will figure out a way to do that soon.

Special thanks to Blogie for adding me to the Davao Blogs RSS feed, I truly appreciate it my friend.

So I guess that wraps up my blog sponsors hehehe

If any of you wish to give me gifts, I'm still accepting presents until May 31.

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