Kharla’s Diaries

I remember your round face and your eyes that were always crinkled, as if you were about to laugh any moment. I witnessed your hairs turn gray. Life was not that easy, but you had that patience, that inner strength, that made me believe that things will be better, though not that soon.

I remember visiting your tiny yet lively home. Aunty liked pretty things, and you had dainty curtains and table clothes and pillow cases. There was a table with a lazy susan in the center, which amazed me so much I overturned it to see how it works. I remember helping cousin do the laundry, and how she loved the taste of Perla, though I could never relate why. We would sweep your front yard, always careful not to break your potted bonsai plants. Every morning you would water them, or prune them, and shape them with tiny metal wires. You had a set that looked like a mini-forest, and that in a way introduced me to the world of art.

There were the summers spent with your family, and cousin and I tried to earn money by sealing misua packets with mosquito coil. 1 cent per packet, but it wasn’t the money that interested me, it was the smell of flour and the wonder of the mixing, drying, and grinding processes. And the fact that you always kept a dog for a pet.

Back then I could not understand why you and Aunty sang loudly in church, and lifted your hands in seeming joy. Now I know what kept you strong all those years.

And you loved to read. I can’t remember how many of your books we ‘borrowed’, only to never return them. But you didn’t get angry. I guess you felt it was your only investment in us, and it is true. For whereas Dad was an artisan of things mechanical, you were the dreamer, the poet, the philosopher. Your books showed us worlds that were waiting to be discovered. You stressed your points not with anger, but with reason and wisdom. And of course a laugh.

Now we no longer have your hand to press to our foreheads when evening arrives. We will miss you, but I am comforted in the knowldge that you are at peace, eternally.

I am seeing the crumbling of a dream

as beauty escapes through loosened ties,

gnawed by hearsay and suspicious thoughts.

Once again I feel like running…

I want to run until the screams of my physical being

match that of my soul.

And I won’t know the difference.

My legs will carry me, I will speed on.

Until I finally stumble from exhaustion.

And I won’t know perspiration from tears.

(They both taste salty anyway)

So pull me up and let me rest on your wings

Carry me to a resting place

where I can wait for a new dawn.

I need your stillness to heal me.

My first foray into meetups took place yesterday. It was brokered by Google, and my agent was the international site www.meetup.com. The commonality: badminton, of course. I need to work on my defenses and that requires working on my offense as well, so I made a decision to improve my smashing too. I needed more playmates :o) and I needed variety.

I chose the group Badminton Buddies because they were playing in the Central Singapore area. Last night the venue was the HDB Hub, which had 4 rubberized courts and clean-smelling locker and shower rooms. The meetup was to be at 8pm so I had time to go home, have dinner, and take the 15-minute walk to the venue. Very convenient indeed.

When I arrived they had already started warming up. I found my host, Daniel. He had a warm smile, short spiky white hair, tanned from outdoors (I think). There was no formal introduction to the rest of the group, and I later learned that there were a lot of first-timers like me. We had an Indonesian national player with us (I wanted to ask for an autograph!!), and his ankle injury did not deter him from jump smashing. Incredible power, I feel my racquet will break if I return his smash (and succeed).
I played mostly women’s though I wanted to play doubles with NP guy (nat’l player). There will be a next time. I can wait. Can’t say I learned much that night, but the returns are not nil either. It’s time to hit the books tonight, and do some shadowing.

But first, I must finish creating my input files, test records, and data preparations. Yep, time to get back to work. =D

saturday evening

tired by game and disturbed by an occurrence

finding peace and quiet in the still waters

of the Bedok Reservoir

I love being with nature, and I love sports so it was only inevitable that those two interests meet. The invitation came from Jhun V, who I met thru badminton and is my partner in the mixed doubles category. He must think I need more training and decided that mountaineering should do it. The climb was scheduled 6 weeks ahead, so it was successfully booked in my ever-full sporting calendar. Besides, the thrill of exploring caves, scaling a mountain, and swimming in waterfalls just seemed too much to miss. And yeah, maybe I needed the training too.
*——————————-*

Preparation and Lessons in Packing

I went thru the itinerary and figured I could endure 3-4 hours of trekking. Nevertheless I wanted to come prepared so 2 weeks into the day of the climb, I practiced walking up the stairs of my HDB unit: walked up to the 10th floor, rode the elevator down, and repeated the same cycle until I got dizzy from the circular motions or got bored. I forgot how many cycles I did, but I performed this regimen at least twice a week. Plus I have two days of badminton a week, yoga at home, and kickboxing at the gym. I knew the real experience would be way, way different but I had to do what I can to prepare my body. Challenges such as these can not be underestimated, seriously.

Next came the question of what to bring: clothes and personal necessities, food, gears. I had no hiking boots (and I’m still shopping around till now), and no camping bag. So I used my trusty Mizuno running shoes, while an officemate loaned me her North Face back pack. I did a few researches on mountaineering necessities, asked questions from the experienced hikers, and while they all said to pack light, I just could not leave a few items behind like my moccasin shoes(think American Indians with feather headdresses running around the campsite), a book(just in case I got bored on some legs of the journey), and 10 sets of clothing. Yes, 10 sets of clothing, all carefully selected and matched, and mostly cotton. Lower the eyebrows please, inexperienced climber, remember? And hey, they did mention 7 waterfalls; those require changes of clothing in between right? So clearly I’m excused. Mwehehehe…(Background song: I’m Just A Girl by Gwen Stefani).

So on the day of the climb, I excitedly hoisted my back pack.

And almost fell from the sheer weight on my back. I thought then that I may have packed more than I could carry. Sheesh.
 
*——————————-*

En Route to Kelantan

I was late for the meet up in Kranji. 14 minutes. I could already imagine Jhun’s raised eyebrows. When I arrived I learned that we were still waiting for the others to arrive, and I breathed easily. I was introduced to Josie and Jon and noticed that their bags were packed neatly and tightly, and looked waaayy heavier than mine. Josie was holding a stick (what for, I remember wondering) and Henry was sporting a tummy (I correctly guessed he was the chef). I noticed their mountaineering gears and apparels, and that’s when the reality of the journey dawned on me. I felt apprehensive and, with Apryl, began to doubt the wisdom of our decision to embark on such a back-breaking, sweat-pouring, and muscle-aching journey. But we didn’t back out. No sir, we are Tropang Smashers Girls, and we don’t back out from challenges.

Arnel and Don arrived and we breezed through the immigrations of Singapore and Malaysia, then had dinner at McDonalds at the Johor Bahru side. Apryl and I were quietly observing the rest of the gang while they already had an easy camaraderie. I ticked the stats: four men, three women, four cameras, five experienced climbers, two newbies, one climb lead, two sweepers, one chef, six kitchen assistants, one deck of cards. We were off to a good start.

We boarded the train at 7pm but not without having a few ‘before’ photos at the JB station. This was Apryl’s first visit to Malaysia and her first aboard the KTMB. She was so excited that she couldn’t sleep and sat on her bunk bed and viewed the ‘scenery’ for as long as she can. She gave up when she realized it was getting pitch dark, and the only sceneries were those in her head.

Still feeling shy, I tried to mingle with the gang while they played cards. Arnel had the winning streak that night, and talk was that he could already buy a meal of roti and kopi with his winnings. Later that night we wanted to have coffee at the train cafeteria, but the cars leading to it were so jam-packed with chance commuters that we could not push our way through. There were passengers sitting on the floor near the toilets too, and some doors at the connecting hallways were open and there were people sitting there with legs dangling over the rails. We gave up and went back to our car. After posing for a few photos I decided to try to get some sleep despite the rattling of the train. I needed a good rest for the climb.

We reached Dabong in the state of Kelantan at 7am, 1 hour late of our itinerary. We groggily heaved our backpacks and were immediately greeted with cold air and a misty grey morning. The guys took photos of the train tracks, and then we had breakfast at a local eatery (I remember having fried chicken and plain rice topped with a sauce and sweet-spicy desiccated coconut). Before 8am struck, our guide joined us. His name was Adam.

*——————————-*

Meet the Guide

The first thing that came to mind was that he looked like Rene Requiestas, the late Filipino comedian and actor. He too was lanky with dark brown skin, and had a bright, wide smile that revealed a few missing teeth. His eyes were thoughtful, and when he spoke it was with a slightly raspy voice. His long, black, curly hair was often worn in a ponytail at his nape. A sprinkling of white hairs lent him a wizened look. And he was always puffing his rolled cigars.

He was clad in shiny black tights, over which he wore a pair of shorts with a wide slash at the rear side. Loose dark shirt and trekking shoes completed the outfit.

He impressed me as sincere, wise, and respectful of nature and the challenges she offers to everyone. Later I would appreciate the way he dispensed information at the right times, or asked for hypotheses as to why certain cave structures formed the way they did; or withheld a scenery at first, only to call our attention to it just when we thought we had seen everything or passed it without noticing.

With Adam, the climbing experience was not just physical; he involved our imagination and our senses of hearing, sight, smell, taste, and touch. He was like a showman, and the forest and mountain and the creatures his props and actors. Part by part he would let the play unfold, somehow making us feel that we have a role in it too.

*——————————-*

Climb Proper

I really don’t remember much, there was no time to take notes. I only remember registering at the park office, doing a few stretches, and praying. I prayed, as usual, for an injury-free activity. I also pleaded for a generous helping of endurance before resolutely marching to the starting point. After a few meters we came to a hanging bridge, but our guide motioned for us to take another route (‘more challenging’, he said). And indeed, after our bodies started to acclimatize to their oxygen demands, there rose a view of the waterfalls, majestic and imposing. We cautiously stepped over rocks to cross the stream. The weight of our bags added to the challenge of leaping and balancing. I did not dare to imagine what would happen if I slipped.

We rested under a shade after safely landing on the other side, and I felt like I accomplished a lot already. Well, a poem did say about celebrating your victories, however small. I took a little pride then quickly put it away. Up ahead was a rock-climbing challenge. We had only a metal chain to help us. We scrambled up, and from there onwards it was trees, branches, thorns, and pebbles, stones, boulders, more trees, mud, clay, roots, then more trees and branches.

For my ears came the sound of cicadas, birds, bees and other insects, the crunching sound of shoes stepping on twigs and stones, now and then the sound of running water, and my very own labored breathing.

The air started to smell of leaves, mud, insects, and heat - forest smell, I call it. I inhaled deeply. As we hiked on, my sweat began running in rivulets and were dripping down my nose. My clothes were starting to be soaked, and my bag was becoming heavier every minute. Remember my cotton t-shirts? I was wearing my light green one when we climbed, and it absorbed my sweat, becoming heavier as well. It also doesn’t allow for quick evaporation, so when my sweat cools off, I might lose a few degrees of normal body heat. And that’s not good. I should have listened carefully and worn dry-fit clothes.

Over an hour into the trek, I realize I was having a good time. I liked what I was doing. I like sweating, climbing over tree trunks and clay paths, sometimes using only roots as leverage. At times I was on all fours, scrambling over granite rocks and clinging on desperately. I held on to branches and vines that could not support me if I fell anyway. But I held on. I regulated my breathing, I trusted my bodily instincts to tell me which way to lean, where to plant my foot, and I learned to test for stability of my foothold. I realize that while one can be daring and push her limit, pride has no place in making decisions here. Each mistake can be fatal.

Oh, did I mention there were leeches? I think Jhun purposefully skirted my questions regarding these, otherwise I might have declined with finality. But I was so freaked out at the thought of having a leech attaching itself to and sucking blood from me that I did some research anyway. These vamps have suckers at both ends of their bodies, and can use either or both to cling to their victims and perform the bloody heist. First they inject a sort of anaesthesia so you won’t feel anything, then an anticoagulant so the blood will just flow freely into their stomachs (or wherever they store it). When they have had their fill, they will conveniently detach themselves and roll off (presumably to doze off).

Fine, I can be generous, but giving away blood to a sucker without my permission? (Not that I would give it). And who would leave me bleeding hours after it’s gone, and a terrible itch after a week, and a scar for months? Thanks, but my consent would rather go to the proper blood donation channels. But even then, just the very thought of seeing a leech stuck on my skin wrecks havoc on my nerves - and vocal chords.

Despite the pants and the insect spray though, I was still made to undergo the experience of a leech victim. Picture this: me arriving at the base camp after trudging with the gang for hours; me thirstily guzzling a can of 100 Plus drink and imagining the night’s rest ahead; me learning how to set up the tent with Apryl and Jhun; me celebrating the successful set up of the first tent; the 3 of us starting to set up the second tent; Jhun pointing to the knee area of my trousers, mumbling about leeches; me not immediately comprehending but looking down and seeing blood dotting my pants; slowly it sank in…

Then I screamed.

Looking back, I recall seizing Apryl by the shoulders from behind, screaming at her ears, “Tanggaling mo, tanggalin mo!!!.” But how on earth can she remove the damn thing when I was grappling her?  Poor Apryl, her ears must have been ringing a bit after that incident. My screams must have reached the nearby camp sites, I don’t know, and I couldn’t care then. Mercifully when we looked, the leech wasn’t there anymore. Apparently it wasn’t alone; another leech also had its fill at the back of the same knee, and together they must have unceremoniously rolled off like contented drunken beer buddies. Luckily at that time, I was wearing a support strap on my knee and I think that it prevented them from crawling upwards to the more fleshy region of my thigh. Or upwards still…

Ok, that’s enough imagination. I’m just thankful that I did not see them, or else I think I would have screamed louder, or maybe I would have beaten myself black and blue just to get rid of the suckers. If you fear leeches, trust me, no amount of research can prepare you for the real thing. But leech or no leech, I have decided that I am joining the next climbs. Err, as long as I am physically capable, anyway. I will be wiser with my clothes. And just in case the leeches manage to fasten their suctions anyway, it’s better that they spare me the sight and roll off before I whack the life (and the blood, my blood, aaarrgh!) out of them.

It’s a little over midnight. On my table there’s a sun block lotion, a pair of sunglasses, a lip gloss, wallet, and a few grapes on a twig. The latter I ate with my brother while watching Amelie, and the rest are reminiscent of the bike trip I had yesterday. The lotion I didn’t even use (facial skin too sensitive to oil and scents), but the shades and gloss I did. These and the cold coffee I made and intermittently consumed through out the day are keeping me up.

And a bit of unsaved notes on an electronic pad.

It contains a name. And a number. And an address. It was given by a friend today.

The fact that it is unsaved is telling of my being undecided about what to do with them. Thinking about it again makes me realize that there have been only a few things that I have chased after, so few that I have fully thrown my efforts into.

When I was in school, it was graduating. After that, getting to the capital city and passing the board exams. Finally, it was getting a job. I’ve done all these, and done well too. But these are not my dreams. These are the dreams of others for me. I have allowed myself to be waylaid, and unknowingly made excuses for not achieving some things. Maybe I stopped dreaming a little (I knew it, I need a more mind-stimulating job!).

And so there it is, staring at me from the bottom of my screen. Untitled - Notepad. Dare I even inquire? I have no experience at all, no portfolio to show, not an article to my name. But just the very possibility of being accepted thrills me. Already I am anticipating the mind work I will be putting into it, the long nights, research, editing, and more editing. I might miss my train stations while finding my thoughts…

But what if they reject me? They need someone with a real experience..they don’t like my style. Too flowery? Too plain? Too direct? It won’t sell..

Scary?

No, exciting.

I’m making up my mind that tomorrow I’m going to take another plunge into unknown waters. I’m thinking I’m going to need more coffee there. Maybe that’ll be the day I’m giving up badminton.

Hmmm..

Or not. :o)

Those who know me know that I don’t go anywhere but the sports hall on Saturdays. I have reserved this day for my badminton sessions at Tampines. But yesterday was by far the most exhausting Saturday I’ve had, though definitely it won’t be the last.

It started earlier than usual at 550 am. I was supposed to cook shrimp with broccoli last night, but our kitchen ran out of garlic so I had to make a run at the nearby wet market at so early an hour. Sadly they also ran out of oyster sauce which I use to infuse more flavor for the shrimp stock.

Good thing I had already packed the previous night, and my badminton gears were ready. By 715 I was  on my way to the MRT to meet my biking buddies at Simei. We left our badminton gears at Nimfa’s, and we were off to the bike trail. We were excited about taking the Jungle Trail this time since it didn’t rain last night. The path would be dry and less challenging, something that just befits our cycling level as of this time. :o)

There were 7 bikers in all, 4 girls and 3 guys. Of this count, 4 has been to the trail before and served as guides. But the rest was just as adventurous, and led us to never-before-visited trails that left us gasping for breath and brought us new challenges. The Jungle trail never failed to challenge us as well, especially the new ones. When we fiinally emerged we felt like we could do one more round, but the BMX circuit distracted us.

The circuit is composed of about 10 humps, some small and some only slightly bigger. Others have crevices in the center while other are just plain humps. When I first tried the humps, I was scared and did not gather enough momentum to accelerate to the top, and so was always stopping in the midst of the climb. Nhing was behind me, and she was always forced to break speed too. I promised that this time, either I would be the last to try the circuit, or I would accomplish the humps with flying colors. The latter I did, which gave me such a thrill that I went and did it again. It was like going on roller coaster rides again, and again, and again.

We cooled down under a nearby gazebo and traded stories before finally returning our rented bikes at the Sun Plaza. Lunch was at Simei, where we feasted on our potluck food. We had zesty adobo, tasty asado, and saucy shrimp with broccoli. It was the girl’s lunch treat for Leslie too, who will be going back to the Philippines today. Company with this group is always fun and relaxing.

But it could be exhausting too, as was proven during the badminton sessions later at the PRSS. We endured 1.5 hours of badminton training, all the while sweating in the hot sports hall. That place sure needs improvements in its ventilation. Few members came so the courts were empty more often than not. Usually we wouldn’t notice the time, but yesterday I could not wait for 7pm to arrive so we can have dinner and go home.

I guess all that sun and cycling and training drained me, and even the more seasoned players of the group. But it was still fun and thrilling and exciting, which means I’d do it all over again if I have to! =D

Next in the girls’ list is mountain climbing and kayaking. Life sure is colorful with sports and friends! Thank God for both! :o)

The gang:

The ‘normal’ trail:

The Jungle Trail:

We wanted more challenges, and forgot to consider that it rained the previous night.

Thick foilage

And a few surprises!

Finally we emerged from the Jungle trail..

BMX!

Of course there’s always lunch..courtesy of Nhing:

We wanted more biking! Even if it rained:

Day filled with meetings, tired ladies, and spur-of-the-moment decision - these were the ingredients to that Friday.

After a long day, Ongki and I decided to unwind:

Each year just keeps on getting better.

The gifts I receive each Christmas just keep pouring. Last year I had the gift of faith; I got to know Christ my savior better. He, the reason for celebrating these festivities, touched my heart and I have never been the same ever since. The year before that I landed on Singapore soil and was able to earn more than I previously did. This translated to better living conditions for my family, and my brother’s education. This year, my brother too, came to Singapore and found a job a month later. His girlfriend soon joined him, also found a job, and now I have more siblings to chat and be crazy with.

This Saturday I will be boarding a flight to Macau with a friend, and we will celebrate Christmas there, along with my sweetheart who is flying in from Manila. From there we will backpack and explore 3 other cities of China. I take this vacation knowing that 4 months from now, my parents will be moving in to a new house. It is more comfortable and roomy than the one we are currently squatting on. It will also be the first house that we own.

A decade ago, I only dreamed of these things. I was in the first of my college years. Our carenderia was demolished a few months back, and we had no home, no source of income. My tertiary education was paid by the people’s taxes. That helped a lot, but I still needed money for my allowance and school projects. All throughout college most of my spare time was spent either as a student assistant, a mall cashier, a part-time Math or English tutor, or a stay-home maker of Chinese bracelets and necklaces. Apart from that, I also earned extra income by making school banners and joining art and writing contests. Times were hard, but I realized later that God has given me enough to withstand the trials. Despite the hardship, I kept my dreams.

It is not only the material aspect of my life that improved. The sometimes-bitter relationship I had with my mother was healed and I slowly began to understand her. I grew closer to my father and brother. I kept my close friends even with the distance between us. Friendster, Yahoo, Gmail, and Facebook have become very handy in keeping those friendship ties. For me, relationships are my most treasured valuables.

But still it gets lonely here sometimes. The latest financial crisis has hit most of us OFWs, leaving many jobless or with little spare money to send home. Job prospects and salary raises look bleak. I learned of a Filipino family living here: the wife was diagnosed with cancer of the brain, their daughter has autism, and the father was recently one of the casualties of Citibank’s lay-offs. As I say my prayers for them I also thank God for the gift of health. I pray for all OFWs and their families. May God strengthen us spiritually that we may withstand all trials and keep our relationships healthy and solid even as we strive to improve on the financial aspects of our lives.

May each new year bring more blessings to all of us! May we keep on dreaming, and may all of our dreams come true. If you feel that things are difficult now, keep persevering! God bless!