Looking Back
In 1987, i stayed in Legazpi City to study in Divine Word College. There I lived with an aunt and her family in the city proper. Though, i was born and grew up in Samar, a large part of me is bicolano. Perhaps, it was my father’s influence. This explains my liking for spicy food, my taste of freedom in a rural rugged terrain, my adventurous spirit.
Despite further studies and work in the big city like Cebu, and/or occasional trips to Manila, i for the most part remain “promdi” in lifestyle and values.
What i remember most in that one year stint in the Bicol region were the earthquakes that come when the Mt.Mayon showed her temper tantrums. 1987 was quite a year for the people of Legazpi. Not only did the beautiful Mt. Magayon showed signs of activity, a strong typhoon also wreaked havoc on the citizens leaving behind destroyed houses, fallen trees, no electricity and one week of classes suspended.
This post-typhoon scenario is really nothing new to me. We have the same usual occurences in Samar. No wonder we are a very flexible people. We always get up after the ravage of storms and calamities. For most of us, life can be a series of starts and restarts. A lot of us though managed to sustain the momentum of living. Looking back through my growing up years now, I felt blessed to have witnessed the strength of my people. The sense of community that is expressed everytime a calamity occur, of neighbors cleaning together fallen trunks and leaves, of working men fixing the electrical posts, of children playing eager to pick the fruits that lay scattered on the ground.
Of course, a lot have changed in me already. I am no more that same child who would eagerly go out the house to join the fun of searching for the ripe fruits fallen on the ground. Even my kids do not have the same fun like we used to have three decades ago.
The kids i grew up with used to play under the full moon chasing each other around. We used to climb trees, girls and boys alike with no inhibitions and questions on propriety of gender. Of course there is always my big brother around with the gang.
I felt frustrated looking at my eldest daughter huddled for hours before the TV with her playstation. Such expensive play kids have nowadays. When we used to create paper dolls, now my youngest girl insists on a Barbie. When we used to create our playhouse and sell foodstuffs, my kid had her own playhouse bought from a toystore in Yemen.
A lot of things indeed changed. I saw old acquaintances with more lines on their faces, more bulges in their bellies. The old have grown so old. The kids of the past have grown to youthful energies filling the city of today.
So this is the cycle of life. People grow old and die. Babies grow up and become the young adults of today. Even some have babies of their own already!
Then i look at my own life and i start to laugh. In my late 30′s now, here I am restarting my life. A solo mom.. a graduate student of UPOU…a development worker in the turbulent Middle East… a muslima revert……
My own mom looks at me across our dining table and sighed. This is where i led my life to. Yet, i do not have much regrets. Infact, i feel a sense of anticipation of what has to come . I feel like something more is to come… I feel as if life is just starting for me now. Maybe, this coming back to trace my roots helped me find my own identify and sense of direction.
“A believer cannot truly find home in this world. From Allah we belong and to Him we shall return.” Or to borrow the words of one sister, “He (SWT) took care of me yesterday, and He (SWT) will take care of me today and tomorrow.”
One of the fruits of faith is a sense of contentment and joy that no one can explain. Our hayya addunya is replete with precious moments that we must identify, relish and be grateful for. What others may consider a failed life based on the standards of modern society is actually a life lived in full if we have faith in our hearts. This is a treasure that no one can rob from us – our inner faith, our inner strength, our flexibility, our faith in One God.
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