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...