Sharing the spirit of Christmas with the Survivors @ Hospicio de San Jose

It has been a month since the recent typhoon caused havoc in the Philippines, specifically the Visayan area where the people there have lost not only houses, but also the people they love. Numerous pictures were brought to different social media sites and most of them were already too depressing to see.  You could see the faces of the citizens, crying and looking as if they have lost hope. The sky was too dark, trees that were once lush and green were now uprooted and houses destroyed by the hash winds. It was devastating for me to go on to the next page, but what more for them? What more for the people who experienced firsthand? What more for the people who lost their family?

I never thought it would cause me this much pain as I thought I would.

People from all over the world knew of what happened and did an immediate action. Donations were given, and believe me, I felt really touched. The people I talk to in tumblr knew what happened as well, and even tumblr itself inserted an image of a sun beside its icon to indicate that they’re grieving for the loss of those in the Philippines. At the same time, they also encouraged everyone to do some sort of move to help, whether in prayer or through donations.

Even the fansites unnies I follow (they’re fans who take photos of korean idols) donated for the victims, and some artists even auctioned off their own clothing to donate. Soon enough, everyone else did what they could to help: volunteering to repack goods, visiting families who were relocated to manila, etc.

I wanted to help, really, because I thought that clasping my hands together to pray wasn’t enough. But what can I do as a student? Donating money was the least I could do, but a part of me says that I should do something worth remembering. I mean, it’s easy to pull out money in your pocket. I wanted to do something that I want to smile to one day.

Weeks have passed, and my moderator and some of the students in the LAED-BSSW department thought of a unique idea. They’ve mentioned that some of the Yolanda victims—that we now call to as SURVIVORS—were relocated in Hospicio de San Jose. Then it just clicked to us, why not visit and have a small Christmas party with them?

On December 7, 2013, we as a department, took a bus and went to Hospicio de San Jose. With us were our moderator, Sr. Teresita, and Mrs. Agoncilio. One hundred cupcakes were baked thanks to Monique, cartons of packed juice from our dean and loads of Spagetti (I didn’t bother asking how many pots they filled, IT WAS A LOT) from the Social Work Department.

It took us around two weeks to prepare, although I wasn’t really part of the team who did the party plan, they asked me to be one of the point persons. The department (LAED-BSSW) split into five teams with each assigned to a different age group. In my case, I became a point person for the children.

While the rest of the groups stress debriefed the “survivors,” my group played with the kids for—three hours? Yes, three hours STRAIGHT. And it was actually fun, to be honest. The kids smiled, laughed and basically tired us out. T’was all good, and even though I’m currently experiencing the worst body pain of my life right now, I can truly say that I’ve had the best time with the kids. There were around twenty children and 14 students from the department. So that makes at least one child (or two) per student. Breaking the ice, we had parlor games like “Bring me” and “Stop Dance.” We gave them small prizes and candies. The kids were HYPED, especially when we took out our “pasabit.” My heart just sank, like really, each time they smiled and laughed. We saw how genuinely happy we’ve made them and for me, that was enough to call this day indeed, a great one.

For the rest of the period, we served them food (spaghetti, cupcakes and juice) and listened to their stories.

Of course, I didn’t forget to document each of the things we did in Hospicio (we were there since 8 and left at around 6:30 ish). My mod told us that we shouldn’t post the pictures in facebook due to security reasons (esp pictures with the kids bc they’re said to be set for adoption and all that jazz) so I opted to censor their faces.

Photo blog starts now (click read more to see photos)

to the guy who said “we’ll try” but didn’t ;; don’t be melodramatic, it’s just a letter for you

It’s when at night, as they say, wherein you will inevitably drown yourself with all these thoughts and memories you’ve been keeping your whole life as you lay in your bed. At the same time, it would give you this weird muse to write something–anything and you’ll have no other choice but to put these thoughts into paper and immortalize it with your pen.

This is for you.

Honestly, I don’t know why I’m writing to you right now.  It’s actually quite a desperate move for me to do since I don’t normally put this much effort to someone—or anyone, really, especially when I know that they don’t give a single fuck about me right now. For all I know, you’re not even thinking of me—I shouldn’t too. They say that’s how pride works; that no matter how much you want to fix things back to the way it used to be, pride will tell you that you shouldn’t be the first to drop to your knees and put all these pieces back together with shaky hands.

But tonight, it feels different—like as if my entire body wants to deceive what my mind tells me what not to do. It tells me that I should I drop whatever I’m doing and compose this letter I’m writing because I’am thinking of you and I think I’m driving myself insane for canning these feelings I need to set free.

Everything sounds too silly, and I know later on, I’ll regret doing this. I’ll regret sending this to you, because a part of me thinks you’ll laugh this off and think that I’m not too serious. Another part of me says that you’ll simply ignore me and unfriend me in Facebook for the second time while you’re at it.

Please don’t say that I’m overly pessimistic because from what I’ve seen and felt for the past weeks, shadowing myself over grief and quipping a fake smile are the only options I’m left with. It’s either that, or I’ll wear my darkest robes and play the evil role in this sickening fairytale of yours.

They [my friends] told me that I shouldn’t bother you anymore, simply because it would only inflict me more pain. What they don’t understand, however, is that I’m feeling the exact same “pain” they’re saying whenever I think of you and how our friendship has come to an end like this. (wag mo na isipin yung feelings, kahit yung friendship nalang) It’s deeply saddening to see that one person who used to bring joy to your life, is now just a memory that I can only relieve in my head.

After our talk in the canteen, I really thought we’d become friends again. Now, I’m just laughing to myself because once again, I believed in another lie. I realized that we can’t stay friends, due to some odd reasons we’ll never understand.

I hope you’re happy, though. I hope she’s giving justice to the efforts that you do, and I know I might sound a bit too bitter–because I actually am, thank you for asking—I just wanted to tell you that I am not in the least bit of feeling apologetic for the things I’ve done to her. Parang masama lang? hahaha no, not really.

Don’t worry, I have no plans in confronting her whatsoever because I know that I’m in no place to do so. She’s not my concern, and I shouldn’t of her’s too.

But remember this: you’ve gambled basically your life and your friends for her. Not to mention that you dropped my feelings like an unwanted sack of garbage. Heck.

She better be worth it.

Or else, I will fucking—I swear to god—take my knife and slit her throat. I’m not kidding.

Ending this letter, I just wanted to say thank you.

Thank you, because you’ve managed to make my third year in college a bit interesting. Thank you because you’ve made me smile, even if most of the thing you said were probably lies and pa-bola.

Thank you for accompanying me in Cash and Carry. It was the best memory I had with you and I don’t mind repeating the same scenes over and over in my head.

Thank you because if it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t be this close to some of your friends. I must say, you really do have friends who are meant for keeping. It’s a shame you’ve taken some of them for granted.

But most of all,

Thank you for allowing me to feel pain. It made me realize that I’m actually human and not an asexual plant; that I have a human heart, capable of loving and though science tells us that it’s just another organ composed of muscles, it’s actually more fragile than the thinnest glass ever produced by man. Oh well, that’s how life goes—we’ll all get to experience this one way or the other right?

You’re just another phase I need to get over, it sucks and I swear I could write another letter saying how much of a BS you are for letting me believe that the feelings were  mutual, but whatever. I’m done for tonight.

Bye.

P.S.

No, I’m not mad. You’ll know when I’m mad (a clue would be me dismembering people or screaming at the top of my lungs.)

I’m sorry if I sound overly dramatic, but that’s the only thing I’m sorry for. Nothing more, nothing less.