Bohol Files 2: The ATV Experience

photo by DALE DIAZ

Anything that requires helmets has never been my thing. I thought about that as I painstakingly navigated my very first ATV (all-terrain vehicle) through the Bohol countryside.  It occurred to me, out in the middle of nowhere, that my automatic shunning of any activity that needs head gear might be traced to the death of a much loved uncle, one of my mother’s favorite cousins. 

Tito Benny was young, warm, funny, and father to gorgeous twins.  As a child, I remember the bottomless grief that surrounded us during his funeral and the strange siren sound that filled the chapel on the last day. It was his widow’s wail--an ethereal sound I will forever associate with pure pain. That was my first lesson on loss and it was a hard one.

But our children lead us to untold destinations and on this particular trip, my boys brought me to this place of reckoning:  a vehicle that required a helmet.  I suppose it can be described as a motorcycle with four wheels and that gives some kind of consolation when that’s all you have on your side. I tried to scan the place for any other kind of vehicle that didn’t require me to learn a new skill or don the dreaded metal head wrap, but the only tandem ride they had was under repair.  I wasn’t about to lose sight of my boys or hand them over blindly to the locals just because I didn’t like the idea of helmets and rides.  So, at the ripe middle age of 44, I donned a smelly helmet and got on the thing with wheels.

The first thing they make you do is drive the ATV on a little practice trail. Of course I drove straight into the grass and knocked down a wooden pole;  I forgot that brakes are useful things.  You press them and then you stop, hopefully before you destroy property or body parts. I use my feet for brakes, but for this particular vehicle, that doesn’t work. Once I got my hard-wired brain around that detail, I was okay. D thinks I held everyone up with my lack of speed and skill, but I don’t think it matters. Our boys had a grand time. No one else complained.  All they care about is that they got to drive their own ATVs. I saw a lot of butterflies on the way, too, and I don’t think anyone who zips through life for the sake of speed sees all the lovely details. I did.

So I finally did the helmet-and-wheels combo, but I did not forget to take in the sights, the lush and lovely Bohol countryside, its mud and manure, but also the birds, butterflies and dragonflies, the children who waved at us, unaware of the threshold I was crossing, and the grandmother who flashed me a smile of solidarity.


I'm thankful that the helmet, ATV and I had a life-giving experience.  It made me remember Tito Benny and his wonderful laugh.

SUNDAYS

It's a beautiful Sunday morning where I am. Everything feels green and sunny and for the first time in a very long time, I feel rested and able to sink comfortably into the quiet.

Some people feel lonely when it's quiet and the children are away, but I have learned to accept these moments of solitude with gratitude. I miss my children when they are away with their father, but I know that the time away from them is a time to gather energy, laughter, smiles, patience, a quick and ready sense of humor--all the things I seem to run out of in the course of mommying.  As a full-time mother, especially during the summer when the children are home all day long, you get quiet where you can and thank the universe for it.

Deep silence is the source of all the invisible forces that give us strength.  I know this because each time I feel stretched beyond my limits, I hunt it down and drink from it. Silence is so difficult to come by these days.  You don't even know it but everyday there is a steady hum from all the household appliances, the vibrations of vehicles on the road, all kinds of sounds permeating our environment.  We don't realize how inundated we are until all that sound suddenly dissipates to a level of quiet that I can only describe as Sunday-quiet. Every other day the air hums with life and activity, but on this last day before the week begins again, you feel a quality of stillness that isn't there on other days. This is why I love Sunday mornings. I hear more of the natural world on this day--the birds near and far, the air as it rushes through the trees, and sometimes even sunbeams, creeping through my curtains and resting on my floor. 

This morning I woke up to the realization that Sundays at home are best and I am thankful for knowing it and having it.

WITCH ON WHEELS

Really. Must I be a witch to get the kind of service we all deserve? I'm not even asking to be treated differently, but I find myself having to bring out my inner witch (which is fast becoming my outer) just to get people to step up to the appropriate level of professionalism. Must it be so?

I recently received a statement to pay for annual fees for a credit card I had terminated last year. I terminated it precisely because they couldn't get their act together.  I paid my bill as usual and they didn't post it.  Then they proceeded to charge me late fees and finance charges, despite the number of calls I made to correct their error. So I killed the account.  Then suddenly, after months of thinking I was rid of that, out surfaces another bill.  WHAT??? Whenever I call the hotline--make that tepid-line-- I am either put on forever-hold, or have to deal with a busy signal. Why is service so hard to come by?

I sometimes blame years of  living abroad for my frustration, but that's just the cushion I like to lie on from time to time. The truth is, I'm not wrong to expect things to simply go right!  I have been going through nightmare situations with a plumber, contractors, not to mention the daily irritants with salespeople in stores everywhere. Over the holidays, I walked into the housewares section of an upscale department store, to find a group of salespeople practicing a choreographed dance number, their sound system overriding the store's own Christmas carols. They were doing this amidst the breakables, mind you, and the presence of customers did nothing to awaken them to the inappropriateness of their behavior. I flashed them a look of displeasure and decided to leave as it was clearly not a day I was going to get good service.

Recently, I noticed a smell coming off some of my plates and asked the dishwasher service people what that might be.  The day they came, my stoneware had the smell but the regular dishes didn't.  Their diagnosis: don't use the stoneware in the dishwasher.  That was as far we they were willing to go.  There was no inclination to check further, probe somewhere, think more. That was it. I had to explain, with super-human patience, that I used all the dishes in a tinier dishwasher last year and never had that problem. To date, the company has not given me a satisfying answer. Instead, I asked a plumber (oh, but let's not go there)to diagnose the problem, which he did, and now we are testing the efficacy of his solution.

Only yesterday I asked another credit card company for a reversal of late fees because their inability to fulfill my request to re-send me paper bills a few months ago, again threw me for a loop.  Yes, sure, they would do that, but first I had to pay the fees. Fine, I said, already gathering my deepest breaths, but I don't have to call you again to remind you, right?  Maam, I'm sorry but you will have to call us again after you've paid because we cannot process the request for reversal until you have paid. Yes, but why do I have to call you again? Maam, I'm sorry but.....

But what, really, I wonder? But I am unable to think beyond the parameters written on whatever handbook I have in front of me? But I don't want to think that there might be an underlying problem that has nothing to do with whether the plates are made of glass, ceramic or clay? But what?

In the meantime, I wonder why one has to bare fangs in order for people to do what they ought to.  Do we have to get to the point of letter-writing to see things done properly? It's only when an establishment's reputation is threatened that people begin to move as they should.

Really, must I be a witch on wheels?

Tying the Knot

I saw an episode of Brothers & Sisters last night. It was the wedding episode. I always cry at weddings, but this was particularly moving because the bride was given away by her mom, a widow, who found out her husband (the bride's father)had another family shortly after his death. Talk about the last to know. Anyway, she's walking her daughter down the aisle, all the while telling her not to lose herself, her identity, her strength after she's married. When the priest asks, "Who gives away the bride?', the mother says, "She gives herself away freely with my love and blessing." I found that so touching and so appropriate. I think it so important that we all study the sacraments again and come into a new understanding of them. Just think of the marriage sacrament in the Catholic church today.  Does the ritual, the words, the symbols, still resonate with you? We all just do these things automatically today, not bothering to think about what these sacraments mean--what are they there for, what are they meant to provide? What is our role in them? How do we receive them? I belong to a church called The Christian Community and one of the reasons it piqued my interest many years ago, was because I learned that in their marriage sacrament,  promises are not made to each other. Instead, the promises are made to the self. I found that so wonderfully mature and conscious.  Actually, how binding--binding from a space of freedom. I am still learning about the renewed sacraments in our church and each discovery has led me to a deeper and authentic understanding of what they bring. This little snippet from the movie brought me to that place of questions again. I think we don't ask enough of them, nor are equipped to ask the right ones, especially when we approach life thresholds. I thought I was pretty conscious when I was married, but I have learned so much more since and now I realize I didn't ask the right questions, either.  Though I wrote my own vows, I simply did not know what I was doing in the larger and deeper spiritual sense. That is one big threshold that everyone ought to take a lot more seriously.  The wedding -- the place of the greatest misplaced attention -- is but the beginning.  Yes, it's important to get it right, but the dress, flowers and guest list are the least of your worries.  Start with the sacrament. Study the words. Study the ritual.  See what all that means to you and what it will mean for the union. In the end, the flowers don't matter.

Balance

Every woman struggles with this. As a mother you're always caught between giving your children freedom and boundaries. When do you give in, when do you hold back? How do you balance all the aspects of your womanhood: wife, mother, lover, warrior, daughter, sister, co-worker, individual...? It is a daily challenge, especially when you want to live consciously.  For mothers like me, whose children have to meet with a totally different lifestyle when they are with their father, there is the added challenge of letting go and accepting that there are aspects of their life you don't see and cannot control. I find the phrase "good enough mother" very moving and comforting because it recognizes the inner struggle of every mother to be her very best and the inevitable feeling of failure that comes with it. When you bring children into the world, you want only the best for them. It is your responsibility. It is your goal. It is your every breath. But life happens along the way and you mostly have to make do. Achieving balance is a colossal struggle because so many people need you but to be able to serve them well, someone has to look after you. And we all know that for every woman, that person is no one but herself. I went to see a doctor a few weeks ago to discuss some therapies for my children who can't seem to get over their asthma. Their doctor prescribed therapies that I was feeling so totally overwhelmed about because I am just one, they are two, and I'm already doing everything I can for them in terms of medicines and therapies, rhythm, diet--you name it. The doctor looked at me and said I was the one that needed caring for and strengthening because I was clearly exhausted and what strength could my children get from me when I am running on empty? I could have kissed the ground she walked on. As women, we always pedal to the back of the line for others, when we have to learn that we can serve better when we are strong, healthy and cared for. Every husband and father ought to see that if the mother of their children are healthy and secure, so will their children be. Instead, the full weight of the world is on mothers today. No wonder our kids suffer, too. Balance.  Every woman ought to fight for it and claim it. It's easier said than done, I know, when we are so programmed to think of others and never of ourselves. I'm trying my best to make that part of my agenda this year and every day after. Of course I had to choose the year where I'm in the midst of building a house and rectifying the horrors that come with it, but it's precisely what pushed me to realize that I have to take care of myself more because I am totally useless to the people I love when I am unwell. Balance. May every woman achieve it.