On the Kc-Piolo break-up

     This is it! I will succumb to peer pressure and comment about the KC-Piolo split.  I owe it to my followers (yes, all 3 of you! hahaha ako na ang feelingera of the year!).

     Can't say that the news on the split came as a surprise.  Who are we kidding right?  PJ is gay. Sad but true.  If he refuses to come out, then he should just stop leading women on to think that he can straighten up.

     I believe KC really fell for him.  Her tears were real.  They had to be because she isn't a great actress (I'm being kind) and I don't think she could pull off that cry fest if it were an act.

     So at this point, if we're keeping score, who has the upper hand? I'm giving this one to KC.  She may be a bad not-so-good actress but she is definitely not a stupid one.  She had the smarts, grace and style to come off as the wronged party without really saying anything damaging about PJ.  But her "non-admission" was derogatory enough to add fuel to the rumor (or reality?) of Piolo's sexuality.  Well played KC.  Slow clap for you.

The Exorcism of Emilyn

     I woke up to the soft rays of sunlight peaking through my wooden blinds.  It was Friday.  Greg had gotten up ahead and was already in the shower.  I called for the yaya to come up to the room.  I had to get ready for work.  Another maid came up.  Not Lyn.  She looked distraught and pale.  I asked her why it was she and not the yaya who had responded to my call.  Mam, hwag nyo pong ibigay si Vito kay Lyn.  Kahit ano po ang mangyari, huwag na huwag po. (Mam, whatever happens, don't ever give Vito to Lyn.)  Her voice shook and she wrung her hands so tightly while she spoke.  I asked why.  Basta mam, ako nalang ang hahawak kay Vito. Huwag na huwag niyong ibibigay si Vito sa kanya. (I'll take care of Vito.  Just don't give Vito to her.) Her concern was genuine.  Ok, this was beginning to scare me.  I asked a final time, why.  After a moment’s pause she said, nasaniban po si Lyn kagabi. (Lyn got possessed by an evil spirit last night.)   WTF, right? Was this a joke?  What is this, a local parody of the exorcism of Emily Rose?  I went down to the kitchen to find out for myself exactly what had happened the night before.

     At this time I was still living with my parents.  They were away with my sister and brother on a Euro trip.  It was just me, Greg and Vito in the house.  Just my luck, right? Stuff like this always had to happen under my watch.  I called a staff meeting—5 maids, 1 driver and 1 house boy.  Everyone looked tired and on edge.  They had had a rough night.  Each telling a piece of what was to be an incredulous story of Lyn’s possession.  Our manang, the laundry woman, was visibly frightened as she recounted what she had seen—Lynn shaking vigorously on her bed, her eyes rolling back in their sockets stark white, her body stiff and uncontrollable.  They tried to make her stop shaking but couldn’t.  They all gathered (including the driver and house boy) around Lyn and prayed until the “evil spirit” left her.  After which they weren’t sure if she was alive because she lay so still and didn’t seem to be breathing.  They all kept vigil by her side til morning. 

     Clearly she wasn’t dead (!).  She was right there standing with the rest of them, the picture of perfect health, while all her kasamas were faint from the fear and exhaustion of the previous night.  I asked Lyn if she remembered what happened to her.  She did not.  She only learned about it after the others had told her.  She said this hadn’t happened since 3 years ago when she was 15.  She suspected that she had been “visited” again because she lost her panglaban (an amulet or talisman to protect against evil spirits).  She said the albulario (witch doctor) from her hometown had given her a bullet tied with a string as a weapon against the visitor.  She had misplaced it which would explain the possession.  I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.  There had to be a logical explanation to this besides the one that they were offering.  Piecing together everyone’s story, I suspected that Lyn had had a seizure.

     I scheduled an appointment with a neurologist the next day.  I took Lyn for a check up.  The doctor recommended some tests to complete his diagnosis.  He too, suspected it was a seizure related to an undiagnosed epileptic condition.  When asked if anyone from her family had had a similar condition, Lyn replied yes.  Her grandfather had suffered a similar fate and was “taken” by “it”.  The doctor said that the attack could have been triggered by Lyn’s exposure to TV.  Since Lyn had been spending the past 2 months taking care of Vito, she had been watching a lot of TV with him.  The doctor explained that flashing and bright lights can trigger a seizure.  Until he could run the tests on her, Lyn would have to take extra precautions.  She would not be allowed to cook, wash clothes or baby sit Vito.  She was also advised to have a companion at all times wherever she went and whatever she did.  Lyn sat there and listened, but it was obvious she wasn’t buying it. 

     I would never find out about Lyn’s true condition.  Before her scheduled tests could be done, she decided to go home.  She said her mother wanted her to see the albulario so that she could receive treatment.  Only the witch doctor could put an end to her suffering, she said.  There was no persuading her.  So I let her go. 

     That is as close as I would ever get to the real life possession and exorcism of Emilyn.

My first (and last!) encounter with The Agency

     Shortly after finding out my yaya was pregnant, I snapped out of my initial paralysis and quickly went into yaya search mode.  I sent an SOS text to my pretty mommy friends (you know who you are <wink>) to help me find a replacement and fast.

     Through my friend Lyn (bless her soul) I was able to connect with a girl named Shirley who was formerly from an agency.  After realizing that it was more lucrative for her to do the search and placement services herself, Shirley broke away from the agency to freelance.  She would charge a total fee of Php1,000--P500 from the employer and P500 from the maid upon placement.  An additional P200 "commute" fee also had to be paid upon delivery of the new maid.

     After interviewing 3 candidates, I settled on taking in Edna.  She was 25 years old and had prior experience as an all-around maid from her previous employer.  She seemed like a kind soul, soft spoken and capable.  I had high hopes for this one.  But nothing would prepare me for the horrible surprise that was to come.

     On her first day onboard, Edna buddied up with yaya Gina (the pregnant one).  It was a typical weekday schedule--school in the morning, lunch at Lola's followed by a nap, OT or SP in the late afternoon, then back home in time for dinner.  At the end of day 1, Edna got sick with a fever.  I thought to myself, sick after one day with Vito... that can't be good... So on day 2 I let her rest.

     That evening after coming home from work, Edna was on her feet as she greeted me good evening.  She looked well.  When I asked if she felt strong enough to continue buddying up with Gina the next day, she said yes.  I took her temperature just to be sure.  It was normal.

     On day 3,  Edna went with yaya on the same weekday schedule. Can you guess what happens at the end of the day? Yup, sick again!  When I asked her if she knew the reason for her fever, she answers binat lang po ito mam.  

     I was not convinced.  Something was not right.  I called for a household meeting with yaya and Clara (my other maid).  As I prodded them for what they knew of the new girl, the truth came out.  Edna had recently been pregnant by her live-in boyfriend but had had a miscarriage about 3 weeks prior.

     I called for Edna for a final chat.  I asked her if it was true.  She said it was.  When I asked how far along she was when she had her miscarriage she answered isang buwan po. I was confused.  I had never heard of anyone having a miscarriage at 4 weeks.  The earliest would be 7-8.  So I asked how she knew she was pregnant in the first place. Kasi po dalawang buwan na po akong di dinatnan. Ok, I tell her, then that means she had already been pregnant for 2 months.  She then looks at me with this perplexed look, Ganon po ba yon mam? OMG.  The girl didn't even know what was happening to her own body!  Then it dawned on me.  If she couldn't even tell how long she had been pregnant, how could she be sure she had had a miscarriage?  So I asked.  I had hoped her story would include a visit to the doctor or something like that.  It did not. She just assumed she had a miscarriage because she bled a lot and had pain.  The girl was utterly clueless. 

     I did my best to educate Edna about the reproductive system that evening.  I explained to her how important it was that she should see a doctor to find out her true condition and receive proper medical attention.  I gave her some money for her bus fare home.  I let her go the next morning, after only 3 days with me.

      As for Shirley, I was shocked that she would give a sick girl to me.  She claimed she did not know about Edna.  She was as shocked as I was.  My expectation of Shirley as "the agency" was that she would have at least done a thorough interview and background check on her girls before farming them out to her clients.  Isn't that what you're supposed to be paying the agency for? Apparently I had assumed too much.  She really didn't know these girls from eve.  She would just take any one who would come to her house looking for work then match them with a client.  I would find out later that this was typically how any agency operates.  Really, how different is that from taking an arbitrary stranger off the street into your home, right?
   
      Shirley promised to replace Edna with someone else.  I told her not to bother. I wasn't interested even if I couldn't get a refund on the fee I paid.  I had learned my lesson the hard way.  That was the last time I would deal with the agency.

Derek, you sexy beast!

This morning on my way out of my village, I saw Derek Ramsay get into his silver Audi R8.  One word... HOT!  As if he wasn't celebrity enough! He sat his hot butt in his hot car and took his royal hotness for a spin.  The car by itself is already super sexy, but with Derek in the driver's seat with untinted windows... Damn!  Angelica is one lucky girl...

My Blair Waldorf Crisis

     My yaya is pregnant. When I say that today, I say it with a feeling of acceptance at the inevitable fact that she is leaving me before the new year.  But the day I first heard the news, it was a different story.

     My yaya is a big girl.  She has always been rather on the heavy side, even when she first came to us from Bacolod 12 years ago.  She had first been the yaya of my then 3 year old brother.  After a few years, she left us to get married and start a family.  A husband and two kids later, we were still in touch.  I was ecstatic when she volunteered to come back and be Vito’s yaya two years ago.  I had gone through a string of 3 horrible yayas in the first 6 months of Vito’s life. That, coupled with my post partum blues and stressful work life had me at the brink of madness. You could imagine my relief when she finally arrived. At last, my prayer for a nurturing, competent and trustworthy care giver for Vito had been answered.

     Three weeks ago I noticed.  Yaya was looking plumper than usual.  Her uniform seemed to be getting tighter around the waist where her belly sat, round and full.  She didn’t seem like quite her normal self.  I had my suspicions, but was too scared to even entertain the thought.  But I just had to ask the dreaded question.  “Yaya parang lumalaki ka. Buntis ka ba?”  “Parang ganon nga mam.”  O.M.G. This couldn’t be really happening to me.  I gave yaya my last pregnancy test.  It was positive.   

    
     I saw a flash of images in my head—Blair, upset with Dorota, having a fit after finding out that her girl Friday was pregnant.  I felt dizzy.  This could not be.  But it was. 

     So now you know why I need a new yaya and my time is running out...

Kwentong Inidoro (A Toilet Story)

      Let’s give thanks for the little conveniences in life that we often take for granted.

     One mundane evening some two months ago, I was flipping through cable TV channels looking for something interesting to watch while I tried to bring myself to sleep.  After scanning several channels, I stopped at the vision of an old man walking through a dry brush gingerly leafing through leaves and branches as if trying to find an old familiar spot.  He was carrying a tabo (dipper).  It only took me seconds to realize that he was looking for his outdoor “toilet”.  I pressed the volume button on the remote control to listen in on the commentary of the news reporter.  He went on to say that in this far flung barrio in the southern part of the Philippines, the local population had yet to see the day when a basic toilet would be installed for their community’s use. 

     I was appalled to hear that millions (I forget the exact number but am sure you could google it if you want proof) of Filipinos still live without access to a toilet.  The sharp realization of our sorry state as a nation sunk in.  How much would it cost to construct a public toilet anyway? You would think that each barangay would have the money to spend on something as basic as this, which in my opinion is a human right for health and sanitation. Sadly, it seems our leaders are too entrenched in witch hunting (insert: GMA’s arrest) to bother with our people's basic needs that are until now, sorely unmet. But I digress...

     As I sat and watched interview after interview of man, woman and child sharing their desperate call for basic sanitation, I was led back to a memory some 15 years ago about a then new yaya who was fresh from the barrio.  Her name was Annette, she was 17 years old.  We were her first employer.  Seeing that she was clearly inexperienced in cleaning and keeping house, my sister took the liberty of showing her how the bathroom was to be cleaned.  My sister brought Annette to the water closet, described what kind of cleaning implements were to be used, how they were used and finally pressed the silver lever to flush.  Annette jumped at the sight and sound of water flowing down the toilet.  My sister was surprised beyond belief as she watched Annette look on in amazement at the mad rush of water and subsequent emptying and filling up of the bowl.  It was clear that she had had an a-ha moment.  “Ganon pala yon, mam?”  It was the first time she had seen a toilet flush.  

     Fast foward 15 years later... watching this documentary, I think to myself, not much has changed.  On TV were Annettes who had yet to see with their own eyes, how a toilet bowl flushes.

     Incidentally Nov. 19 was World Toilet Day as declared by the World Health Organization. So how timely is it that I am to blog about this toilet story just 4 days after? Yes, God always has a plan...

     Tomorrow is Thanksgiving Day and it is fitting that I take a moment to give thanks for the little things in life that I often take for granted.  Thank you God for indoor plumbing!  Beats digging a hole in the ground any day!

Day 1

     Today, my supposedly fifth yaya left us after a total of 12 days in training.  She had "borrowed" my sister's phone charger without permission (technically, taking something without the owner's knowledge is called stealing, right?) and now the charger has gone missing.  Without getting into the petty details, suffice it to say that she has trouble in the values department as she explained that she only took it because she had every intention of returning it anyway (insert confused emoticon with ? here).   So, following the same logic, if she took my son Vito out of my house without permission and brought him back after 4 days, that would be totally acceptable because she will have had every intention of bringing him back anyway, right? I don't think so...

     In spite of this, I didn't ask her to leave.  I had wanted to give her the benefit of the doubt being a believer in second chances and honest mistakes.  But she made the decision to leave anyway, since she couldn't take the heat from the other maids in my house as well as those at my mom's house where the entire fiasco on my sister's phone charger happened.  Only after she left tonight did I hear about the other back stories on her pakialamera ways.  As my mom would put it, better finding out this early that she couldn't be trusted.  This may well be a blessing in disguise.

     This wouldn't be the first time that I experience another domestic tragedy in my quest for a competent, nurturing and honest yaya for my son.   I punch the "Reset" button on my imaginary time clock yet again.  It's Day 1 of my search for Vito's yaya. I wonder how long it will take this time...