My Turf

Don’t change what you cannot improve.

If you’ve nothing better to add or suggest, DON’T FRIGGIN TOUCH IT!

Such is the entry title as this is a product of my most recent visit to the dermclinic.   

For a little over a month, I’ve been consistently bothered by the little pests that are not-yet-but-soon-to-be-be zits on my face. I’ve been going regularly to the derma since late last year as, though i was never entirely pimply, my skin was never entirely clear either. I missed several sessions the past weeks, which resulted in me being beset with constant worry about my face eventually breaking out. I knew for a fact that if I tarried further, this dreadful thing is bound to happen!    

Well, I digress. My skin condition is not really the purpose of this blog entry.

The other night, for my own peace of mind, I went finally went to the dermclinic for the much-needed facial. This also translates to subjecting my face to several minutes of kneading, mashing and pricking. It really is amusing how women–and even men, straight or otherwise– voluntarily go through painful treatments just to be (or at least feel) beautiful. Even if it hurts, you still see the customers coming in for more doses of throbbing ache.

As the specialist went on with her usual torture routine, my mind was filled with thoughts for a new blog entry. Weird how inspiration to write could come at the oddest times. Or perhaps it was a subconcious way for me to take my mind off the painful assault caused by the derma lady’s skillful (yet merciless!) hands.

One thing I was reminded of then, and what I have always known about myself, is that I have incredible tolerance for pain; both the physical and emotional kind. Not that I am numb to hurt. Believe me, I’m not. However, more often than not, I can manage to go on as if nothing’s wrong despite feeling massive anguish caused by whatever.

As I already mentioned above, the lady ridding my face of pimplets was merciless. Her hands probed and groped, pinched, nipped, and squeezed–I could only bite my lip and grimace as tears fell with each painful contact. Unlike other derma girls, she didn’t even wipe off my tears. Unbothered by them, she went on. But she got the job done. And fast. And I liked her for that, and quickly decided that I’ll look for her again the next time I come back.

15 minutes of continuous physical agony, but it liberated me from more days of fretting over when the expected breakout will happen. Now, I’m still nursing small wounds and some stinging sensation here and there caused by the latest torture session . But at least I am now pimplet-worry-free!

I am no masochist, but I prefer my pain served in one heap, delivered in one blow. I couldn’t care less if the hurt is extreme. I’ll find relief in the knowledge that, clearly, it’s over and done with. There’s nothing I detest more than small worries that would constantly pester me and stay for an unbelievably long time. Like those pimplets that caused me annoyance, however slight, each time I washed my face. Like small worries. Like itsy-bitsy irriations that wouldn’t go away. As what I always say, "Kesa pitik-pitikin mo ako ng ilang buwan, sapakin mo na lang ako ng isang beses." That’s a metaphor, of course.

Nonetheless, I told the derma lady that she couldn’t lay a hand on my nose, the skin above my upper lip, and my chin. I don’t have visible problems in those areas, and I really do not care if I grow one or two pimples there. Pricking those sensitive spots would cause me way too much hurt that is for no great cause anyway. 

Some pain are just not worth enduring.

**I wrote this entry last May 2005–the month when the reality of my joblessness first struck me.**

I am about to take a major leap.

Today, I will submit my resume to pharmaceutical companies and apply for a job as Medical Representative.

I never imagined myself in sales, but I want to give it a try. I need to give it a try.

There are many things I want to pursue, but I feel hampered by money concerns. The only way for me to be able to advance is to try a career that is financially rewarding.

I am just so goddamn sick of being small-time. I am tired of working my ass off for scraps when I know I could be somewhere else, doing something else.

I am done with being penniless. I am tired of having to be sorry for seemingly never having enough. I do not ever want to feel so helpless, left with no choice but to just bow my head, close my eyes, swallow my pride and approach friends for help with money. Gawd, how I long for the day when I am able to hold out from buying stuff not because I can’t afford it, but because I simply do not see the need for it.

Money is not the end-all and be-all of things, true. But its absence, or elusiveness, sure can take away a lot from a person. It fogs up one’s vision of tomorrow, eclipses high hopes. How can one dream about a better but far-off future when merely surviving each day is such a taxing struggle?

Eventually, one just gets to a point when she realizes that she is on the wrong path and there is more than just one way of reaching the destination she wants to be in. I am at that point now. And that is precisely what I just realized.

I want a career in Law. I want to be a professional writer. I want to be in a position where I could influence and be influenced by many people. I want a modest business. But tuition fee is needed in law school. Paper, Internet rental, cellphone load, going to and from places all entail spending. A business, no matter how small, requires capital. I need to be able to eat so I can act and think, plan and execute. And food doesn’t just fall from the sky—it has to be bought. I need money for a place to stay in. I need money for utilities. I need money for a gazillion other things that cannot at all be considered luxury, but are mere basics for living.

Every pursuit needs investment. And realistically speaking, investments do not only mean vision, effort, talent, and brain juices.

I need that break. I need that buwelo.

Moolah. That’s what I need. It’s what I do not have, and it’s what no amount of heart and courage alone can whip up.

“Go after your dreams, kahit na maging mahirap ka pa!”

Sure, if you have only yourself to think of, go right ahead. Sadly, this principle cannot be applied if you have people who depend on you, as in my case now.

Besides, desire and passion alone could not at all spell success. If anything, so simplistic a belief could only lead one to failure.

Resume in hand, I determinedly walk to the entrance of this pharmaceutical company.

Lord, I do not know what you have planned for me, but guide the way.

I was ridding my computer of unneeded stuff, when I came across several folders that contained my files when I was still employed at the Foundation for Media Alternatives. The FMA job was my first brush with the NGO world, and it was only upon opening these old files that I realized how extensive the experience I gained from working there was.

The first folder I opened held my “MS Word Presentation” files. Memories of the training day all came rushing back. How I loved teaching those workers the basics of using word processors!

After sorting through my MS Word Presentation files, a folder labeled “Island Workshops” caught my eye. I couldn’t even remember what these files were about. I felt like an idiot when I opened a file and realized that it was my Communication Rights presentation! Around this time last year, I went to Cebu and Davao for the Island Workshops on Media Governance headed by the Center for Community Journalism and Development. My boss, Al, had to go on a business trip so I was the one tasked to represent FMA and discuss the Communication Rights framework to groups of journalists in Visayas and Mindanao (and eventually at the Linden Suites in Ortigas for the Luzon group).

Lugging the bulky (and heavy!) office laptop ,the Toshiba formerly owned by my boss, I flew to Cebu on my own. That was the very first time I rode a plane by myself. I stayed in Cebu for only one day. My first time in a Visayan city, and the only places I saw were the hotel conference room, the Gaisano Mall (believe me, every major provincial town has it!), and the roads leading to and from Mactan Airport. The day after, we flew to Davao.

I remember how I felt so young (and shy and utterly inexperienced!) in a roomful of middle-aged professionals. I managed to pull my weight somehow, with some participants just uninhibitedly telling me, “That was an excellent presentation!” *kilig* Nonetheless, I was also well aware that there was still so, so, so much to learn.

I recall how uncomfortable it was to present before the journalists in Davao. I thought it was because they sensed that I was quite unfamiliar with the topic I was discussing. The next day, however, as we were getting ready to fly back to Manila, Sir Red and Ms. Girlie expressed that they too felt that the Mindanao reporters were not as receptive as those in Cebu. They explained to me that journalists in Davao have always been skeptical of lecturers/ speakers from Manila. Well, when you have been struggling against misrepresentation, unfair judgment, and lack of attention all your life, I think it is but understandable if you become wary of people who belong to the group who did such things to you.

Without need for second thought, I could still say that my participation in the Island Workshops was one of the highlights of my stay in FMA.

In January, I was told by Al to go to Bayombong (yes, up, up North in Nueva Vizcaya!) to train a group of human rights activists there on how to use an online tool designed for the documentation of human rights violations. Of course, conducting trainings is always, always a welcome thing for me and is something I would always, always agree to do. The only problem then was I was not even close to being familiar with the software! The only experience I had in using it was when I participated in a one-day training about 4 months before I was asked to go to Bayombong. That training was conducted by Jay, a former FMA employee. How on earth could I possibly recall all that Jay taught us in one day, especially since I didn’t really have to use the software after that?! To make things worse, I was supposed to teach these computer newbies about a later software version that I myself had never used in my entire life! About two days prior to the training, the FMA IT consultant, Sir Bombim, tried to teach me all that he could. And, mind you, not only did I have to teach them how to use the software, I likewise had to discuss its early beginnings , its entry to the Philippines, and FMA’s role in the whole process!

Al was really nervous about me going to Bayombong by myself (especially since it’s about 7 hours away from Manila) and wanted Mang Nards, the office messenger, to go with me. I felt sorry for the old man, and I thought it would be quite weird being with him on a 7-hour bus ride. It’s a good thing Raz, perennially eager to embark on anything unfamiliar, volunteered to accompany me.

I do not want to say mean things, but the room we slept in just sucked. First of all, there was only one bamboo bed (oo, sa Tagalog, ito ay ang tinatawag nating papag) that had a cushion which was about 2 centimeters thick. I was quite irked because I told them beforehand that there were two us arriving. The organizers tried to bring in a folding bed, but it wouldn’t stand! So, poor Raz had to sleep on a mat on the floor.

All jittery about the presentation which I did not at all feel ready for, I woke up at around 4 AM and reviewed my notes. After I took a shower, I looked around and peeked in some of the rooms. To my slight dismay, I saw that the participants slept on beds! With cushions! While I, a speaker who was not even getting compensation or honorarium for this, slept on a papag! I tried not to think about it, though, as we went down for breakfast.

Raz, who was then wearing a sando, had no plans of listening to the discussion and no longer bothered to change. As the participants started coming in, he laughingly whispered to me, “I think I’m overdressed!” And he was not exaggerating. The participants were in house clothes! Some were even smoking right there in the workshop area. I kept thinking to myself, “Waaa! Hindi uubra kay Al ang ganito!” Not the smokers in the venue. Not the papag for speakers. Not the organizers in house clothes. Back at FMA, if you were our visitor or conference attendee, we will do everything within our capacity to ensure that you are comfortable (naks, parang copy for a hotel ad ah). Needless to say, Al was really pissed when he found out that they made me sleep on the papag.

As for my discussion proper, it went relatively well (although, admittedly, about a quarter of the time I really wasn’t sure of what I was talking about. Hehehe). Raz, realizing that his outfit is not out of place at all, decided to stay. He even helped me answer some of the participants’ questions. I only felt a little pissed with the Executive Directress of the organizing group . She asked me questions in such a haughty, condescending manner. As if she were addressing a kid, or someone dimwitted. After my talk, the other organizers approached me and profusely apologized for their ED’s behavior. “She is in her bitch mode again,” they said. However, when we bid her goodbye, she shook our hands and was all nice. I still told Al about what she did, though. And her behavior towards me was one of the reasons he wanted to write to them. FMA was actually doing them a favor by helping them in their training. Not like they are paying us for it. I was actually tempted to have them shoulder Raz’s travel fare, but decided against it, seeing how apparently small their budget is (actually, I just sort of figured that out after they made me sleep on the papag). When my talk was over, we didn’t even wait for the graduation ceremony. We hurriedly left. We wanted to check out the town further, but when we asked around for nearby beaches or tourist spots, we were told that there was none. We took a bus back to Manila in a jiffy. Bayombong is just about one of the few boring places in the Philippines, I realized.

Other highlights of my FMA stay were the R & R (rest and recreation) trip to Tagaytay. We hiked to Taal, and then we went to the Al’s ancestral home in Cavite. We spent the night there, just laughing and drinking and bonding. I think all of us were able to join. Mama Cel, Mama Bear Joy, Mang Nards, Nina, Adel, Tune, and Al. Then there’s the Communication Rights Workshop, where we stayed 5 days at the Linden Suites. Then there’s our Christmas Party at Banana Leaf. The move to the new office. Sigh…

I miss FMA terribly. I miss the people. I miss my job. How we were selling ideas and advocacies to people–not whitening products, stretch mark removers, satellite TV, call cards or food baskets. Really, I have no complaints about my job now. I am learning so many new skills here, too. But then again, I know in my heart that there are other things I’d rather do, if only I have the means and the capacity to.

Thank heavens I was able to keep a backup of my FMA files. They serve as reminders of things I really want to do soon as this “gaining leverage” phase is over.

**I wrote this on July 6, 2004, several weeks after I started working in an NGO. **

Mahirap mabuhay bilang isang freelance writer. Talagang alam na alam mo ang ibig sabihin ng “When it rains, it pours.” Kung dumating ang projects, sabay-sabay. Para bang wala nang bukas para mag-trabaho. Pero kung bumagsak naman ang malas (i.e. mga 3 buwan kang walang raket), bulto-bulto din.

Nakatira ako sa isang apartment nung magsimula akong mag-freelance. Bukod sa wala akong choice kung hindi bumukod sa mga magulang ko (kelangan na nila lumipat sa bahay namin sa probinsya dahil masyadong magastos ang mag-renta ng bahay para sa isang buong pamilya dito sa Maynila), sukang-suka na ako sa pagsusulat ng mga user manuals at Help (opo, isa ako sa mga sumusulat ng Help na lumalabas pag pinindot mo ang F1 sa keyboard) para sa mga software na ni hindi man lang binebenta dito sa Pilipinas. Malakas ang loob kong umalis, dahil sabay-sabay ang mga projects na ginagawa ko noon–sulat para sa magazine X, researcher sa magazine Y, editorial assistant sa magazine Z, scriptwriter para sa video ng isang malaking kliyente…

Hindi ko naman naisip na habang naghihintay ako ng mga tseke ko galing sa mga raket na yun, eh magta-tagtuyot ang aking venture into the freelance world. Ang inisip ko nung una ay meron lang lull. Kelangan ko din naman ng pahinga, sabi ko sa sarili ko. Sobra akong burned-out matapos ang halos 2-buwang walang puknat na pagpapa-takbo ng utak para maka-abot sa iba-ibang deadlines. At dahil nga bago ako sa pagfi-freelance, may mga projects akong na-prioritize at meron akong mga napabayaan. Inaamin ko naman eh. Lagi ko naiisip, “Well, I did fuck that up.” Syempre, hindi sinasadya, pero towards the stretch, tamad na tamad na akong gawin yung mga responsibilidad ko. Hindi dahil sa wala nang oras, pero dahil sumisigaw na yung katawan at utak ko ng “Ayoko naaaaa!!!” Maniwala ka, pag mahigit isang buwan ka nang nakikipag-bolahan sa media bureau ng kung sino-sinong trapong kandidato o kaya eh alas-singko na ng umaga ng Lunes (ibig sabihin nag-trabaho ka on a Sunday at umabot na hanggang kinabukasan) ay nakaharap ka pa din sa computer at natutuyot na sa kaka-isip ng magagandang bagay tungkol kina Jamby, Bong Coo, Maceda, Enrile, Lito Lapid o Jinggoy para lang masabi that your magazine practices “balanced journalism”, hindi ka na din matutuwa.

Due to exasperation, dumating na sa punto na mas pinipili ko pa tumambay kasama ang bespren ko sa isang kapehan kesa pumunta sa opisina nung magazine na yon at gawin ang trabaho ko. Ang excuse ko non, “Putangina, limang libo lang ang ibabayad nila sa akin, isang damukal na articles ang pinapasulat nila!—wala pa ang pangalan ko sa byline! LINTEK!”

Pero kahit na, mali pa din yun. Tinanggap ko ang trabaho na alam kong limang libo lang ang ibabayad sa akin. Kahit pa magulat ako na ganon pala yung bulk ng responsibilities, dapat gawin ko pa din sila ng tama dahil yun naman ang dahilan kung baket ako kinuha para sa project na yun.

Don naman sa isa pang magazine na pumalpak ako, hindi ko lang talaga sya nabigyan nga panahon. Medyo isang factor din kasi na hindi ko naiintindihan kung ano ba ang expected sa akin bilang editorial assistant, so I took it lightly. Pero kahit na. Ignorance, in that particular situation, is inexcusable. The editor is a very good friend, at malamang naman ay tutulungan nya ako sa mga hindi ko naiintindihan. Kung nagtanong lang ako at nakipag-linawan kung ano ba ang mga ine-expect nya sa akin.

Oh well, Jowell.

Major lesson learned: ATTITUDE OF GRATITUDE … na dapat pag-trabahuhan ko ang isang proyektong pinagkatiwala sa akin at wag sayangin ang bawat opportunity na dumating kahit hindi ko hinanap. A pleased client will ALWAYS think of you first every time there’s a need for the service you can render. Syempre, dahil nga palpak ako sa magazines Y and Z, hindi na nila ako kinuha ulit para magtrabaho sa mga sumunod na issues. Hindi na ako nagtaka at hindi ko rin naman sila masisisi.

Poor-iray Portion

Kung mag-desiyon kang iwanan ang iyong 8-5 job at career-in na lang ang pagfi-freelance, dapat malaman nyo na halos lahat ng mga magazines eh a month after publication date kung magsipag-bayad. Kaya talaga namang nung matapos lahat ng projects ko, 2 buwan akong walang trabaho at walang pera. Naranasan ko pa na isang araw, walang laman ang wallet ko kundi bente pesos, at gutom na gutom ako. Sa loob ng grocery, pinag-isipan ko pa ng matindi kung ano ang mas nakakabusog: sardinas o pancit canton? Iniisip ko kasi, kung sardinas ang bibilhin ko, kelangang bumili pa ako ng kanin. Eh sasakay pa ako ng jeep, pano yan? ‘Tangina lang, awang-awa ako sa sarili ko. Akala ko nga, mamamayat ako dahil puro delata ang kinakain ko. Tumaba pa ata ako lalo dahil sa MSG mula sa instant noodles at canned food.

Natuto din ako na hindi na kumain ng dinner. Dahil pag gumimick, puro dinner-dinner-coffee-coffee. Nagsawa na ako sa kakasagot ng, “It’s okay, I ate already.” kahit sobra na akong gutom. Ayoko naman sabihing, “Eh wala akong pera eh!” dahil hindi ko ma-stand ang pitying look that crosses the person’s face and the offer na “I-libre na lang kita!” each time I confess na wala kasi akong pera. Hanggang sa nasanay na lang din, na kahit meron akong extrang pera, di na lang din talaga ako kumakain dahil totoong hindi ako gutom. Aba, ilang buwan na din akong hindi kumakain ng dinner—kahit pag nasa bahay ako. (Syempre pwera na lang kung alas-tres ng hapon na ako nagising, at yung dinner eh second meal of the day ko pa lang—“Lunch ‘to,” I’ll tell myself.) Magandang practice eto. Tipid na, nakakapayat pa. =)

Nung talagang wala na akong makuhang project, pumunta na ako sa isang call center at nagpa-interview. Talagang nilunok ko lahat ng mga sinabi ko dati tungkol sa call centers. Pero kung wala kang pera, wala kang karapatang mag-mayabang! Lalong-lalo na kung may mga taong naka-asa sa’yo. Kung wala akong kita, hindi lang ako ang walang kakainin, pati mga magulang at kapatid ko sa probinsya, di ba?

Natanggap naman ako, pero hindi ako doon nag-trabaho. Hindi kasi ako pwede don sa initial starting date na ni-set nila, dahil may isa akong nakuhang raket bilang Production Assistant sa isang shoot sa Davao. Kaya one month after the day I was hired yung bagong starting date na binigay nung call center. Pagbalik ko galing Davao, syempre isang buwan pa ang ipag-hihintay ko. So anong gagawin ko sa interval na yun? Pumasok na lang ako sa isa pang call center bilang Temporary HR Encoder.

Medyo nahihiya ako nung una that I was reduced to that. Pero ayoko kasi ng kahit anong binding na kontrata. At least yung trabahong yun eh pang-isang buwan lang, pero subject to extensions naman kung pwede ako. Sobra kong in-apply ang Attitude of Gratitude. Kahit page-encode lang, kinacareer ko. Pumapasok ako kahit linggo ng hindi nagla-login minsan. Nung nalaman nilang nagsusulat ako, pinagawa naman nila sa akin yung manuals ng HR, at masaya ako dahil natuwa naman sila. More than 3 months din akong nagtrabaho don—meaning, di na ako tumuloy mag rep. don sa unang call center. Bago ako umalis sa PeopleSupport, kausap ko pa yung Employee Services Manager, at sabi nya sa akin, “Gawa ka pa din ng projects dito kung pwede ka ha!”

Blessing din yung raket na yun sa PeopleSupport, kasi sa sobrang dali ng pinapa-sulat nila (mga manuals lang naman para sa Employee Services), natatapos ko kaagad, at meron akong libreng oras para gawin din ang aking mga raket. Para bang nakiki-gamit na lang ako ng Internet at computer ng libre. Iniisip ko, hindi ko naman sila iniisahan kasi binabayaran nila ako bilang Encoder lang (meaning di kelangan ng intellectual input), eh ang trabaho naman na ginagawa ko para sa kanila eh pang-writer, di ba? So, imbes na singilin ko sila ng extra, yun na lang ang pambawi ko. =)

Ngayon, nandito na ako sa trabahong ito (FMA) na sobra kong mahal. Imagine, inuwi ko pa laptop ng boss ko pati ang mga librong kelangan kong basahin, tapos nagtrabaho ako dito sa bahay! Plus mga raket namin ni Ronnie. Tapos, may tumawag pang isang production house sa akin nung isang araw at pinapupunta ako sa office nila dahil may ibabato daw silang project sa akin (di ko pa sila nakilala kahit kailan. Nagpadala lang ako ng resume a few weeks ago)

SIGH.

The events in your life are happening in the PERFECT order. Sabi nga sa pelikulang American Beauty, “Everything that’s meant to happen will, eventually.” Nagkakaroon na ng porma ang isang goal sa isip ko dahil sa mga pangyayari nung mga nakaraang buwan. Sana nga I’m on the right track and that this is the right time.

Tapos, hinayaan ko nang maputol ang linya ko sa cellphone at nag-balik-prepaid. Kaya ko naman siguro mag-survive ng hindi naka-linya, dahil nagagawa ko naman yun dati. Naalala ko tuloy yung pelikulang “Gods Must Be Crazy”, kung saan yung mga tribe mates ni Nixao eh naga-away dahil sa lahat sila nagkaroon ng need doon sa Coke bottle na hindi naman nila kelangan dati. Nung nakaraang lingo, in-analyze ko kung ano ba ang mali sa pag-handle ko ng finances. Wala naman akong binibiling gamit at hindi naman ako gumigimmick, pero lagi akong walang pera. Naisip ko na bayad kasi ako ng bayad sa bwiset na phone bill na yan.

Ngayon, “Do away with all excesses” na ang isa sa mga bago kong rules sa buhay.

P.S. Isa akong burgis. Hindi ako makapag-sulat ng dere-derechong tagalog.

This afternoon, I had a very amusing conversation with a former officemate. 

Mr. James: i keep hearing in exalted circles na may boyfriend ka na
Mr. James: so that means virginity will be out soon as well…
Mr. James: will wonders never cease?
cheryl_ingles: SINO ANG NAGSABI NYAN?!
Mr. James: hey relax
cheryl_ingles: hahaha
Mr. James: oo lang o hindi
cheryl_ingles: you said "you’ve been hearing…" as if balita talaga ito
cheryl_ingles: hahaha
Mr. James: this also jarred me, fyi
cheryl_ingles: tell me who told you first
cheryl_ingles: EXALTED CIRCLES?
cheryl_ingles: watta term!
Mr. James: let me guess interested ka lang to know who said so, pero the reality is fictional friend to like Snuffy
Mr. James: so it’s not true?
cheryl_ingles: anyway, fine, if only to curb your disbelief
cheryl_ingles: it’s not true
cheryl_ingles: susko naman!
cheryl_ingles: do you think i will let pass an opportunity to finally tell people, YOU most especially, that i finally have someone!
Mr. James: ok.. i guess the other half of the rumor is true - na pumayat ka (last time i saw you it’s true)
cheryl_ingles: GANYAN
Mr. James: alam mo naman how it goes eh
Mr. James: first weight loss, then boyfriend, then losing virginity…

Ha! Funny how people could just surmise that I am in a relationship simply because I look different from when they last saw me. Gawd, I wish getting hitched really does follow the pound-shed! Then, I really have reason to be hopeful! I’ve gotten rid of about 20 pounds or so (much to my own surprise, actually).

If and When I am truly, finally, officially with someone… every soul I know will be given a blow-by-blow, complete, in-full-color, run-down. You could sure as hell bet your a*s on that.

In all honesty, though, I felt more than a little kilig over the thought of people thinking of me as "with someone."