reinvention

My mother, Josefina Quisumbing Ramilo, died on Thursday, 11 June 2009, at around 9:00 PM. She was at home, surrounded by my sisters and others who cared for her; they were praying the rosary when she passed away, peacefully. She was 86. Her passing was not unexpected; she had been very unwell for more than a year. But it was so sad still, when Diding left us.

She was a teacher for most of her life. And she was a good teacher, especially to me.

When Jang, my elder sister, called me at around 12:50 AM (Darwin time), Friday, 12th June, to tell me Mama had passed away, I was typing away on the computer. I often worked late into the night. So did Mama. She was working all the time for as long as I can remember. She was always up to something somewhere: I remember Rizal Stadium where she shot arrows or did folk dancing; and Philippine Women’s University where she was a Masters student; and Meycauayan where she would get jewelry that she sold; or Pasig or Manila where she gave seminars; and Saint Joseph’s College where she worked for so many, many years and where she was known as Mommy. She taught me the importance of working hard and working well.

These past weeks, I have taken to playing a few bars of music on the keyboard a few minutes a day, everyday, mainly for my mental health. I don’t play the keyboard well; I should’ve learned to do it well when I had a chance many years ago. Mama wanted me to learn piano when I was a boy but I was too unruly and lazy for that; I learned guitar instead, but I am still trying to learn to play that properly. I did learn enough to make noises I liked, and to write some tunes; I am still learning. Mama taught me to love, to play, and to make music, and to keep learning how.

On my way home from Darwin, having a late dinner of coconut rice, dilis, and chilli paste at Changi Airport in Singapore, I realised how I liked trying all kinds of food since childhood. I remembered how Mama would tell me to eat anything placed at the table, and to eat what I put on my plate, to respect and not waste food, to savour different flavours. I remember the joy of first eating chilli con carne with curry powder, raw red onions, and patis – this is how Mama cooked it, so this is how chilli con carne should be. She taught me how to eat – but unfortunately, not how to cook.

At home, finally, with my sisters, I remember how strong they are, and how grateful I am that they have cared for Mama, and Papa, in their twilight years while I lived far away and was not very useful. I remember how well my sisters have done in their lives, because of their talent and their hard work, and because they met many challenges head on, with much optimism and as much good humour as possible. My sisters are strong women, daughters of a strong woman, who taught me that women can and do make and keep and run the world.

I was and still am, sometimes, a man only a mother could love. I always knew and I still know that she would love me no matter what. I don’t know if I can love like that. But great teacher that Mama was, in her memory and with her inspiration, maybe I will learn how to do this too.

Darwin, Singapore, Manila
14-15 June 2009

Andres Ramilo, 2005

At about 9:45 PM, Darwin time, my younger sister Ling called to say that he was gone.

I am deeply sad that he is gone, but not surprised. Two weeks ago he was confined at Veterans Hospital because he weakend considerably. After a week there, and some tests, he went home on a new regime of treatment which we hoped would improve his condition. Last week, he was taken to the Delgado Clinic near our home because he had difficulty breathing; he was sent home with oxygen tanks and breathing apparatus to help him breathe better. When I learned of the oxygen tanks, I was worried that he might go sooner rather than later. Tonight he had immense trouble breathing, my sister said, so they brought him to the Clinic again. He stopped breathing there.

He had been ill for a long time. Diday, the kids, and I visited Manila last December, and stayed there a month, mainly to be with him and Mama. He was asleep, or drowsy, and weak for most of the time we were there. It was then that I decided that we — Diday, the kids, and I — should relocate to Manila to spend whatever time he (and Mama) had left with them. So on our return to Darwin, we started planning and organising for our relocation. We had planned to return to Manila on 4th April, but postponed that because Diday needed medical treatment (which we learned about after we had organised our schedule and booked the flights, etc.). I’ll be coming home earlier than planned to bury him, and to console Mama, and to be with my sisters and our larger family, and our friends. I can’t stay too long this time but we will still relocate to Manila, even with Papa gone; Mama’s there and will need us more than ever.

I didn’t really say goodbye to Papa last January as if it were the very last time I’d say goodbye. I said we’d be back in a few months. Never liked goodbyes. I don’t think he liked goodbyes either. I would’ve wanted to be there when he went, but I wasn’t. I’ll be there when we bury him, but I still won’t say goodbye like its the last time I’d say goodbye. Its not that I believe we’ll meet face to face again somewhere; its just that he will be with me always in my heart, so no sense really in saying goodbye.

On February 8, 1986, twenty years ago, I arrived in Sydney. Much has happened since then, which I hope to write about some day. For now, I can say that after twenty years, I am again planning to live in the Philippines, while not being sure yet whether home is there or Australia. Truly suffering from the migrant’s dilemma, confusion about where home is. More later, but for now: Happy Twentieth Anniversary of Exile/Migration to me!

I wrote this bit using Writely (www.writely.com), an Ajax-based web application that allows users to process words, and collaborate with others on documents, using just a browser. I read about it in Linux Format (December 2005) today and tried it. Works really well. It comes with a facility to publish to your blog(s) so I’ve used that to publish this.

I’m in Alice Springs again (25th January 2006). Been here since Monday, working on software with Felino again; will be here till Friday afternoon. Was in Manila from 21 December 2005 to 19 January 2006. Will write more about that later.

I think it has been ten years since I’ve been to Alice Springs (excepting the brief flight stop-overs on the way to and from Darwin). The last time I was here may have been when I worked on the Alice Springs Multicultural Festival in 1995 — I’m not sure about this date (especially as that festival was a disaster, and one that I’d rather forget about).

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Ferdinand Marcos declared Martial Law throughout the Philippines on 21 September 1972, thirty-three years ago today. I was a high school freshman then and did not understand fully the significance of Martial Law. I was to become a “Martial Law Baby.”

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I started this post after my Tita Eddie Escudero Quisumbing passed away on 18 March 2005. Better late than never.

Tita Eddie was married to Tito Al Quisumbing, my mother’s youngest brother and only surviving sibling. I couldn’t attend her funeral, being in Darwin at the time. She’s the third aunty I’ve lost in the last twelve months.

First to go in the past year was Tita Chedeng Ramilo Fernandez, late in 2004. She was my father’s only sister, and youngest sibling; after she went, my father was (in his own words) truly “orphaned.” I also couldn’t go to her funeral, as I was in Darwin. Then while I was in Manila in January 2005, helping care for my sick father, my Tita Ludy Quisumbing Roxas died. She was my mother’s cousin and my father’s good friend, and close to my sisters and I — wasn’t able to attend her wake or funeral as I was concentrating on Papa.

I was unable to attend the funerals of most of my aunties and uncles as I was usually in Australia when they died. I was in Darwin (visiting, as I still lived in Sydney then) when Tita Madre (Sister Perla Quisumbing FMM) died in 1990; I was away when my mother’s two other brothers died: Tito Rety Quisumbing in the late 1980s (I think), and Tito Apong Quisumbing in 1992.

I was able to be at Tito Mike’s funeral I think, as I was in Manila then (in the 1980s) — he was my father’s younger brother, and the first of the siblings to die. I was away when Tito Tomas Ramilo died in the late 1990s (I think).

I was in Darwin when Mane (Mama Nene, Tita Nene Quisumbing) died in 1994. I flew home for her funeral, as she was especailly close to me and my sisters, and my parents. She died a few months before Bing, my eldest daughter was born; she was looking forward to seeing Bing (and she predicted Bing would be a boy, incorrectly).

I’ve had many uncles and aunties die over the years, but in the last few years I have felt that a whole generation (and their time) was going away. My father and my mother are a few of the last of their generation, so they postpone — for me, anyway — the changing of the guard, so to speak. I dread the changing of the guard.

My struggles with machines and technology continue but these past days I’ve tried to think more about more important stuff: particularly my children, my spouse, my family, and how I can be a much better father, husband, brother, son. I’ve also been thinking about my purpose again, and whether my purpose lies in continuing to work in technology, or is it in the arts, or somewhere else.

I have these spells of thinking about important things, usually after important incidents that get me thinking. Recently, these things have included my father’s deteriorating health, my inability to cope with my younger children’s exuberance (so to speak), my growing marginalisation from the community cultural development/arts sector.

I will have to think harder about more important stuff more and more. Will write about this more and more too, I hope.

The Guitar Festival’s on again; this is the sixth one, the previous one being two years ago (I think). Last Festival I volunteered to stage-manage their outdoor performance at the Territory Wildlife Park — that was hard work but I enjoyed contributing to the Festival and watching the performances. This year, I am just watching.

After having worked for almost three months as a geek at my new workplace, I am somewhat regretting my pursuit of geekhood, as well as developing a strong dislike for certain types of geeks.

Had some tension the first few weeks at my new job, being mainly with boys (and boy geeks at that) — sometimes felt like a lot of macho things going on, and a lot of challenging about what you can really do, man. Maybe its just the way boy geeks adjust to each other.

The Boss Geek wants to sack me; he didn’t want me hired in the first place as he wanted the firm to hire someone else (with a PhD in computer science or something) — the Boss Geek is not my employer (he and his firm are contracted by our company) but is the “Technical Lead” for the project so he has clout. From the start, he’s dismissed my suggestions, consistently nitpicked or fault-found my work, and has sent me insulting emails.

While tensions with the boys at work were resolved reasonably quickly, attacks on me from the Boss Geek continue. I’m getting really angry and stressed with this stupidity. He’s decided that my skills are not “aligned” with project needs, and he’s asked the big boss (managing director of the firm) to sack me. I’ve had bosses like the Boss Geek before; they’re a pain, getting off on giving their workers a hard time. I think they’re disturbed (emotionally, psychologically), or maladjusted, or just plain mean.

Diday , my wife, told me tonight: “welcome to the real geek world.” I was sheltered working at Octa4/ICA because Felino Molina, my boss there, is an exceptional leader and mentor. He is a geek himself (programmer, engineer, physics whiz, etc.) but a really happy and generous one. Maybe I expected other geeks to be the same. Wrong.

I’ve been telling my friends in the arts these past weeks that I might as well return to working in the arts because the stuff I grew tired of in the arts — intrigue, back-stabbing, etc. — was there too in the geek world (as highlighted by my recent experience).

I also sometimes wonder why I want to learn all this geek sh*t, for what purpose? I thought I’d go for geekhood to gain knowledge and skills that I can someday use for more socially useful projects. The project I’m involved with at the moment is somewhat interesting technically (especially as it involves technologies I’m not familiar with) but I’m not learning a great deal of new technical stuff anyway (as the Boss Geek has relegated me to things he thinks are all I know about, like making web pages) so I’m not getting much personal and professional development, just a lot of negative vibes and personal/professional attacks.

I still have a geek job but I don’t know for how long. If I lose this job I don’t know if I can get another geek job or if I would want one anyway. I’ve learned a lot these past years of trying for geekhood; a lot of the stuff I’ve learned can be useful in any other area of work I join, I think.

Might be time for another sea change.