Tuesday, July 20, 2004

Borders

Just came from my pre-employment check-up and as I was filling out the forms and answering questions, I did notice that I had to think of my answers rather than coming to me automatically.

It's because of the multi-faceted life I live. I blame part of it to my parents. Because of the lies they told people, the lies they told me, and the lies they tell themselves. And of course, the lies that they perpetuate still. But not everything is their fault.

Of course the borders that I'm crossing does not concern solely myself. I mean it affects many Filipinos as well.

Look at the Philippines. It's listed as under Asia and yet is in many respects Polynesian. Culturally, we're a mishmash of several things, including (both in a positive and negative way) America.

English or Pilipino/Tagalog? Add in my background and you have Chinese (fookien or mandarin?). In the end, a number of us end up speaking a combination of both (called Tag-lish or in my case, Chi-Tag-lish) but experts in neither (which is to say that some can't speak fluent English nor fluent Pilipino). I'm not even adding the other dialects of the country.

As for religion, we could be Catholic or Muslim, yet there's still some folk practices sprinkled here and there (we have, for example, "anting-anting", which is the equivalent of a magical talisman or charm). For the Filipino-Chinese, there's the Buddhist-Christians and Buddhist-Catholics. In my case, I'm a Catholic-Protestant (for several years, I thought I was Catholic and went to a Catholic school because my parents never told me that the church I was going to was actually a Protestant church and that my faith differed from my classmates... and they even had me Catholically baptized and consented to my first communion).

Personally, my name has and always will be a big problem. Which as I said before, I blame my parents. I mean I have my mother's maiden name as my last name legally, and yet they (my parents) expect me to use my father's family name. I won't even go through the numerous aliases I have, almost seemingly as if given at whim, thanks to my parents (it's really strange when you have a medical appointment, for example, and my mom gives off two possible names as a patient, as if it were normal).

The location of my home is intriguing. I live in Mandaluyong, but if you go south just a few meters away, you'll find yourself in San Juan. Similarly, go north and you'll find yourself in Pasig. It's also amazing how you still get mail even if you use the zip code of the former even when you actually live in Mandaluyong.

"Sample"

One of the requirements for the check-up was to give a feces sample. Honestly, is there no better way to give this without putting the bottle (or in my case, a film tube) up your ass? Perhaps wait for "it" to land on the toilet and sweep it with something. Or perhaps a portable bowl that you can give the medical doctors.

I won't even go into the details of how women probably find it difficult to give a urine sample. That, at least, isn't too complicated for guys.

1 Comments:

Anonymous Anonymous said...

You won't happen to live within the area where that Ledesma kids got kidnapped? Otherwise, we would just happen to be neighbors.

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5:55 PM  

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