Mukhang inspired ang asawa ko eh. (Buhatan na to ng sariling bangko)


Hehe.

If you are my Facebook friend, then you already know.

I am engaged.

After all the ranting, the posting, the raving and the drama, one man made me keep silent and sit still.

I am so happy.

We are currently moving house. I will update soon.

I have said it time and time again. I don't draw. I don't paint. It's just not my talent. Everytime I taught a Gymboree art class I felt like a fraud. So what am I now doing in My Masterpiece where visual arts was part of the curriculum? Can't I just sing all the time?

The people at My Masterpiece say otherwise. For teacher training, Teacher Kara led us through a series of art therapy exercises to flesh out our thoughts on art and gain a bit of insight on ourselves.

Okay friends, this is how I draw.

For five years, Gymbo and I played, danced, sang and met many, many children together. Gymbo and I met in Rockwell, moved on to Polo Club and Shangri-la and even went to Cebu. Two years ago, Gymbo and I moved to China and learned how to speak Chinese.

But things change.

Gymbo and I said goodbye and parted ways when I came to Manila last month. There's no place for me in Gymbo's life in Manila.

Maybe Gymbo and I will meet again, maybe in China, or elsewhere.

Right now I'm opening new doors. I'm a teacher by vocation and there are other schools and more children out there.

So I say goodbye to Gymboree and say hello to My Masterpiece Arts Center and to Keys Grade School/Explorations Preschool. The former is testing my creative juices while the latter is getting my backbone used to the ways of the academe. Both are testing me, challenging me, eking me out of my career comfort zones and feeding the student in me while stretching the teacher that I am.

The kids are fun. My bosses' Raynn and Anna's children (Aylli, twins Tori and Rayn) alone are precious. I have yet to meet the other children apart from them, Misha, and twins Shaun and Daniel. I did diagnostics for a few children that will come to my class starting next week and they're all funny and eager to get creative.

At Keys Grade School, I have Rocio, Luis, Marga, Marian, Moira, Gaby, Maddy and Sophia - all double the age of my oldest children in Gymboree. Twice the fun but also twice the kakulitan! I meet my prep class (which will include TJ P.'s son Joaquin, woot!) and my kinder class tomorrow.

My schedule is a punishing one, not only to myself but also to my wallet. I think I spend most of my earnings on gas alone. My brain has yet to embrace the concept of the peso again and I keep thinking of prices in terms of RMB. I am faced with a 100-peso cost and I automatically think "Mahal!!!"  because my brain is wired to the yuan.

But such is life as a teacher back home. No worries. I will adjust.

Basically, we need someone to replace me! I'm leaving very soon and we haven't found anyone to take over my position. Qualifications are as follows: - dynamic, exciting, confident, animated and lively - able to work with children 0 to 4 years old - able to relate to children's parents - fast-learner and ability to think on their feet - energetic (my class load is heavy) - pleasant singing voice, above average singing ability REQUIRED Unlike me or the other people I recruited to work here as well, former Gymboree experience is not a requirement. The candidate will be sent for training for three weeks at the Gymboree China headquarters in Shanghai. Compensation package is very attractive. Chinese lessons included in the benefits. PLEASE FOR THE LOVE GOD SEND ME YOUR OR YOUR FRIENDS' RESUMES. PM me if interested. Thanks. If I can find a suitable candidate early I might be allowed to come home early so I can attend Carlo's wedding, huhuhuhuhu.

Yaya Remy came to us when Yapi was four years old. She was primarily assigned to take care of Yapi, and like all children of a certain age, Yapi took to her like the proverbial moth to a flame. You may even say that Yaya Remy was one of the most influential people in Yapi's early childhood development. Hence. If you know my sister, that statement could be very significant to understanding her.

Yaya Remy was heavily into showbiz and she poured all her frustrations on the two girls. An avid Eat Bulaga fan, she once entered Yapi into Little Miss Philippines lip-synching “Somewhere Out There” (yes, beneath the pale moon light). Yes. Yapi the Goth was once a candidate for Little Miss Philippines. I’m sure there are less horrifying things in the world.

As for me, she milked my Menudo fanaticism dry. She convinced my parents that she had to be my chaperone to all the Menudo concerts I attended (first row in CCP and Araneta ha) even if my actual parents came along with me. She played my Menudo cassettes more often than I did and helped me figure out and memorize all the dance steps to their songs. She even wrote out and mailed 500 entries to the “Win a Date with Menudo” contest and cried real tears when we didn’t win.

We tolerated it. She was fun. She wore a black bra and panty under her white yaya uniform, became “M.U.” with my skating coach, wore a bikini when we would go on our family outing swimming trips, did the “Hukilau” hula dance for our company’s Christmas party and posed for pictures in her underwear on our balcony, but hey – she took pretty good care of us. She was nurturing and protective and if she was a little nympho, then that’s her one flaw.

She was also dramatic. Disciplining children for her went beyond the garden variety “ibebenta kita sa intsik” and “kukunin ka ng mamang pulis” threats. She took it to a whole different level.

Yaya Remy would tell Yapi, “Kung hindi mo ko susundin, tatawagin ko ang demonyong kambal ko at isusumbong kita.” She would then leave the room.

After a while, she would enter the room again, hair all unkempt, and with the evil eye would look at Yapi and say in an aswanginvoice, “Ikaw ba si Piaaaaaa??? Akooooo… ako ang demonyong kambal ni Yaya Remyyyyyyyyy.”

Kaya mo yon.

And that story won Yapi a prize in RJ Ledesma’s contest for his upcoming book, “Lies My Yaya Should Have Told Me.” I don’t think there’s any way she wouldn’t win.

So Yaya Remy, thanks for the memories. And I’m sorry your dreams of hooking me up with the guy who lived across the street when I was 10 years old didn’t push through. Believe me, not even your grand plan of making us the godparents of your first child could’ve made that relationship happen.

And then I come upon a box labeled "Theater Things". Backstage passes from the events I went through from 1998 to 2006, Playshop faculty IDs, the program from The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe, my improv books, scene books, and even the jumper I use for Pamilya Maleta.

Getting into theater was an accident. Though I've always been pala-showbiz as a child, theater was never introduced to me as an option. It was only in high school, in the classic norm of "make me sama" (sorry po, Poveda ako nung high school, eh), I auditioned along with my friend for the school drama club. I was accepted, she wasn't. We're still friends.

I did a few plays in high school, including an ambitious take on the one-act "Black Roses", and a collaboration with Xavier on "Carousel" which turned out to be a 3-month long soiree rather than a production. My parents and I had our first real tiff concerning my future when I was to choose between pre-med at the Ateneo and Theater Arts in UP. The former won and I had to be content with theater taking a backseat to my future medical career. In college, I tried out and was accepted into Blue Repertory, then a start-up theater org, but had to quit just before "Godspell". With the demands of pre-med on my shoulders, I had to push aside theater  and shut it out. At least for a while.

After a job in Human Resources and traipsing around the country as an NGO-worker, I landed a position with Stages, Trumpets' sister events company. For years I sat behind a desk, watching other performers on stage, taking theater and voice classes on the sly, and when I couldn't take it anymore, I sat down with Audie and Stella and said I was quitting my job.

Audie: Are you sure you want to do this?
Me: Yes.
Audie: (sigh) Kaya hindi ako nagsasalita eh, kasi I knew you would leave once I said something. You're pretty good. You have my blessing and encouragement. Go. Perform.

I assisted for Chari and was eventually given my own Playshop classes, spent late nights doing improv and scene study with Ana, voice classes with Lionel, was cast for Narnia, did the whole corporate-racket thing, performed improv with Philippine Playhouse in the weirdest of venues, all the while living hand-to-mouth. My personal conviction as a Christian artist made for a somewhat limited choice in terms of roles and plays and I eventually gave in and took a job for Gymboree Philippines. But that is a completely different story.

But the glory of those days lay in a small play that moved mountains. It was Pamilya Maleta that I am most proud of to this day. We went from Stageworx to Sta. Lucia East, from Antipolo to Pangasinan, from churches to malls, to town squares and everywhere where there was a space to fill.

My most memorable Pamilya Maleta was in Bilibid Prison. We performed for the inmates that were in maximum security, life-termers and death-row prisoners waiting for their day. The instructions were clear: forget breaking the 4th wall, don't make eye contact, keep to your group and don't be too conspicuous. It's hard not to be conspicuous when we were the 3 single females in a male prison with a population of 6,000. I was playing Rosanna that day, and due to the nature of her character (read: maarteng haliparot) they were most nervous for me and the reactions I might illicit from our audience.

But the show goes on. For an hour we performed, with hardly any glances at our audience till our final bow. When we did look out, we were astonished to see the inmates and prison guards reduced to heartfelt sobbing. We were humbled.

Though teaching Gymboree is still a performance in itself, I miss the stage. The theater performer in me lies dormant and I don't really know when and if she's going to wake up again. She never was truly fully awake in the first place. In the end, my parents were right - theater wasn't my stage. I had the skills, I had the talent, I had the passion for performing, but it was meant for something else.

And that again, is a different story.

There have been days that I found myself idle and restless during my break here in Manila. On days like these I inevitably find myself snooping around the boxes of stuff that I left behind. One box leads to another and soon enough, the sun is low, the day has passed and I'm on the attic floor sifting through the memories that were triggered by remnants of a life I used to lead.

My saddle was bought for me by my tita, bought from a family-owned tack shop in a little town in England and handcarried all the way to Manila. The shopowner was appalled that the saddle was being bought without a single horse in mind, as we were in the habit of switching horses when riding.

I spent a good part of my college years at the stables, choosing riding over the school orgs, and my tiny red Feroza constantly smelled like leather, saddle soap and that unmistakeable earthy smell of horses that I loved. Rain or shine, I would drive down to Fairview three times a week and spend all afternoon in the ring till it was too dark to ride. Often I would arrive late for some night class, muddy boots and all, reeking of grass, mud and horses.

People always used to chide me about being a rider (Shet, pare, this is my horse, Iñigo) but my life with the horses was not like that at all. Erase your visions of a lofty country club and instead imagine a wide open space in the middle of a city, a treehouse that overlooked the bullring and a small canteen that served the most delicious pancit and mami. The students of the riding school ranged from students to celebrities to flight attendants to teenagers who dreamed of becoming Mikee Cojuangco. We were a funny little operation and nowhere near the hoity-toity vision of what riding is thought to be.

During the course of my training, I rode a lot of horses, but the one I was closest to was Redwing. Redwing was a feisty little pinto who shared a lot of my characteristics: stubborn, mataray and alaskador. Redwing and I were magic on a jumping course and I trusted him with my life as he trusted me with the reins. In the beginning we were fighting, each determined to have our own way. After weeks of pushing, biting, bucking and tiny slaps from my whip, we realized we worked well together and proceeded with hardly a whimper from then on.

My love affair with horses wasn't restricted to the school horses. I love them in general, whether it be in Pook Ligaya or Polo Club, Tagaytay or Baguio. I even had a regular horse in Baguio named Dolores, a tiny slip of a mount who I rode bareback. She was amazingly sturdy and could gallop up and down hills as if she was a thoroughbred. No helmet, no boots, no whip, no saddle - just a horse and a girl. The guide trusted my riding skills and my way with Dolores and would take us to the paths tourists never take, little hidden spots that offered breathtaking views of a city I loved.

Back in Manila, rides outside the school ring ranged from carting the horses to Lipa for gallops through sugarcane plantations to riding them through the streets of Fairview to La Mesa Dam. A few weeks before I left for China, I was able to ride the hills of Antipolo on a grey horse named Tiny Boy. That was the last time I used my saddle and the last time I rode a horse.

The saddle is for sale now and I don't think I'm going to revive my days as a competitive rider anytime soon. I'm content with the occasional visit to the stables and the occasional ride. I do miss the adrenaline of jumping a course of 5-foot jumps, hooves pounding, hearts pumping, and that one split second where horse and rider both hold their breaths, suspended in mid-air. But more than that, there's the simple nuzzle on my shoulder, a shiny coat to touch and a soft nose to kiss.

Not to mention they're probably the only males in the world who've never let this woman down. Castrated nga lang. Hmmmm.

Just wanted to share what good friend Adel had to say about our little group of friends:

http://agabot.livejournal.com/117875.html

Thanks Adel. It was great to see you, Kuya.

As I asked my Facebook friends, what are you getting yourself this Christmas?

Lemme share my list. (No, I am not selfish or materialistic. These are things I cannot find in my area of the world)

1. Moleskine Twinset 2008 Red Weekly Planner
2. Nike+ Sports Kit (because I lost mine. Still sore about that one)
3. Sport earphones (because my Senn OMX-70s were in the same pouch as said lost Nike+ Sports Kit. Plenty sore about this one as well)
4. Bare Escentuals Mineral Powder
5. New Threadless shirts (shipped!)
6. The Neverwhere graphic novel (Oh Neil Gaiman, I love you)
7. Lots of other books I will inevitably see and pick up at that wonderful new Fully Booked on Bonifacio High Street (I have to reserve a whole morning for that place. Maan? Breakfast and book-browsing?)

Share your lists!