A long, winding, but grace-filled weekend

I forego my plan to run 5 kilometers this night just to prepare for a week-long lesson plan. But here I am writing this post. So there.

This semester, I’m a busy person. These are my responsibilities:

  • Teacher to eight classes (six sections of Christian Values Education 8, one Christian Religious Education 11, and one World Religions and Beliefs 12)
  • Homeroom adviser to a Grade 12 section
  • Campus Ministry staff
  • Table Tennis coach
  • Grant-In-Aid coordinator

I miss my free time since I was just teaching part-time to five sections last school year. I got all of these because I agreed to take these responsibilities. So just bring it on! Also, I realize that this might be my last year of teaching to high school students. I will be sent out of the country next year for my next assignment. Getting my teaching license renewed would be harder whenever I get out of the country because of the recent law which says that I should get professional development modules/seminars/workshops sanctioned by Professional Regulatory Commission. I really hate that law because I actually get a lot of modules and workshops on administration here in Marist and teaching though they are uncredited because PRC is not involved there. Our Brother Provincial’s future plans for me would be working in foreign mission and/or teaching in college. I’ll save my worries later once the school year is almost finished.

Yesterday was a funny day because I did a lot and most of them are unplanned. I started the day by attending the daily Mass for spiritual strength. Next, I encountered a GIA who doesn’t have a Daily Time Record though it’s already mid-June so I gave away twelve copies to be used for the whole year because I am such a passive-aggressive type of coordinator and I never scold. Then the same person asked me the key to our office because they left the key inside. It’s just six o’clock so I just take my time before eating breakfast. I prepared for my almost two-hour class after the brekkie and got some Fudgie Bars to give away because I promised my Grade 8 students to give them some price. Until now, it still surprises me how I can sustain teaching for that long.

At 9:50 AM, I had to rush to the library because I got to meet all the working students since it’s our monthly meeting. After the meeting, I read the book Jesus of Nazareth by Gerhard Lohfink. I once bragged to my Grade 11 students that it is the best book I read on Christology. Possibly because of running 7 kilometers the previous night, waking up at 5 AM, percolating at a good book, proper ventilation of the aircon in my room, or because I just worked straight for three hours, I slept. I woke up around 12 PM and opened this laptop because I haven’t prepared for my next lesson with the Grade 11 students. I spent some good one hour on it and I went down to the dining hall to eat my lunch.

When the bell rings at 1:20 PM, that’s the time I will teach for another one hour and forty minutes. Again, I still wonder how I get to talk and tell stories I never told before in front of a crowd. If it is experience or reading books or both, I cannot tell. It also helps that there is a talkative student sitting in front that I get to engage with him and make my teaching dialectical or in a dialogue form. Then I had to go back to our homeroom afterwards to check the cleaning. The class president and the vice president collected the relief goods for the victims of war in Marawi City so they endorsed it to me and we delivered it to the Community Extension Services office but it was closed so I suggested we leave it in the convent.

Since I forgot to get the attendance sheet in the classroom, I had to go back and get it. On my way, I noticed the smoke from a fire somewhere near the Rio Grande. I heard firetrucks had a hard time entering there. Then I saw a student using a cellphone in the hallway so I had to approach him and confiscate it since they’re not allowed to bring it in school. While I was talking to him, there is someone calling my phone so we were talking while my phone is ringing. That was a bit awkward. He doesn’t want to hand it over to me and I do not want to argue so I got his I.D. and brought him to the Senior High School Coordinator. I slipped away afterwards to finally get the attendance sheet. I was actually in a hurry because it was almost 4 PM and I have to pack up my things for a trip later. Then I checked my phone only to find out it was Ms. Wilma, the aunt of a working student who got hospitalized due to acute ulcer. They needed the money I collected yesterday because I told her I “begged” some money from school personnel when I went around the school in between classes. I realized I had a talent in begging money. No, that was only a joke. Sorry if it was not funny. The amount? Sorry, it is confidential.

After packing my clothes and necessities, I went with our teachers/coaches to Belle’s Farm, Pigcawayan for planning and an overnight recreation. So there’s the usual drinking and singing either with the rented karaoke or with coaches playing the musical instruments brought by Mr. Dequiña in the venue. I skip singing ballads because I suck when I sing them and enthusiastic whenever we sing alternative rock songs especially if they are local songs. Filipino karaoke culture, represent! I only drank a bottle of San Miguel so I wonder why I got a recurring hiccup. Around past 1 AM, I sneaked to our booked resting house and was able to secure a resting place in a hard sofa-like furniture made of bamboo in the sala. I don’t know what it is called in English but I just know it gave me a hard time getting a good sleeping position because I don’t have a pillow and the sofa doesn’t have a cushion. Probably, it was already 2 AM when my body just got tired of searching for a good sleeping position. I then woke up at the usual 5 AM thinking of helping in cooking breakfast particularly the rice because that’s the only skill I know in cooking and I know how to cook rice for a lot of people because that’s what I learned from a fast food chain.

And I slept again around 9:00 AM until 3:00 PM today. Because of sleeping and waking up late, I feel a little bit of restless so here I am writing.

Today is Father’s Day. What’s my gift to my father? I’ll just present him with my own presence. Besides, I’ll be visiting home in Marikina this Tuesday to attend my youngest sister’s college graduation. I’ll be seeing my mother too whom I haven’t seen in almost two years because she went to Japan to work.

Thanks for reading and have a blessed weekend everyone.

How two years had gone so fast

“I’m now cleaning up my bed room; transferring my files from my desktop computer to my USB; piling up books stacked within the past year; compiling my essays printed or handwritten; and planning how am I going to pack my things and have them fit inside the bags. I’m leaving in five days and I’m preparing myself from this transition period.”
March 14 journal entry

BUDA, DAVAO CITY — I planned to post this entry above while I was still in MAPAC. While I am writing this, all my companions in the scholasticate are now in their respective communities in their immersion in Luzon with groups in the Bulakeños and the rest with the Dumagats in Rizal Province. Now I am in Buda for three days already, I have the luxury of time which I had in MAPAC but didn’t spent the time well because of different distractions such as computers with high speed internet. When I flew to Mindanao, I went straight to Cotabato for a detour in Tamontaka novitiate for two days. I just had with me my clothes, money, and some necessities (is smartphone considered?).

Continue reading

My life as a Brother

TAMONTAKA, MAGUINDANAO, May 24, 2014—Last night, I had a problem where to put my journals. With only three bags for my luggage, I thought of a solution: give away some of my clothes and valuables for more space. Today, I am moving back to Marikina not for a home vacation but for the next stage of my religious formation. It seems surreal. Two years here in the novitiate felt like a very long time yet it seems like it was just a month ago when I first stepped on this monastery-like place. As a novice, I was formed to become a consecrated person. Now, I will start my new ministry of being a student Brother. Yes, that’s right, you may now call me Brother Allen.

Chastity, poverty, and obedience –these are the vows I publicly professed just to follow the footsteps of our brother Jesus Christ. I don’t really have much much to write about now. About my journal, I’ll try to buy the small and light ones since I have an old blog to continue. I will try to write my life as a Brother in my blog.

Goodbye WordPress

Starting this October 6, this blog will be on a hiatus.

Getting a line from a song, I don’t know when I’ll be back again.

Cliche.

Anyway, it was a dark and stormy night… no, just kidding.

Lately, I’ve been writing my reflections as a missionary novice of the Marist Brothers.

Since July, I’ve compiled this weekly reflections and its volume is enough to fit in a novella.

Now I’m going to be away for months and even a year.

That means no more boring stories from Allen Jambalaya.

But if you say you’re going to miss my not so extraordinary posts, just hit me in the comments.

Sorry to say this but I have to go now.

I promise, I’ll be back.

The effect of seating in the back row

While observing a high school class, I noticed students sitting in the back row looking somewhere else, some staring outside, some with heads bowed down, as if they were wishing that they were at home or in the mall. They’re not focusing in the class and they are probably spending more time daydreaming and not participating in their recitation. I’m now saying that daydreaming is not good but if this occurs more often, then it’s not helping their studies.

They remind me of my younger self in high school. With an above average height and with a surname near the end of the alphabet, teachers always arrange my seat either beside the wall or beside the window, always in the back row, sometimes near the trash can.

I heard from one of my college professors before that those students who usually seat in the back row are more likely to suffer from inferiority complex. I hope teachers will be aware of what’s happening in the minds of those seating in the back row and I hope they’ll consider to shuffle the seating arrangements more often.

To the readers, did you share the same fate of seating in the back row? Did you enjoy it?

Born to be a storyteller

I read somewhere in a local quarterly issued magazine which says that one of the most important assets educators have is the ability to tell stories. It’s what teachers have in order to connect with their students. In my journey as a future educator, I might have this particular asset. I think I’m born to be a storyteller.

I still remember that as a child, I made up my own stories with Rina as my first character. That’s when I am telling my story out loud in front of my imaginary friends as my audience on the side of the street. Like the time when my playmates laughed at me when I tried to sing “Bowowow“, a newly invented tune from a new song I composed about a barking dog. Even in composing songs, I realized that I cannot compose a song without telling a story. With my experiences as a child, maybe I’m not just too ashamed of being labeled as mediocre in my pursuit of becoming a great storyteller. Even chess grand masters started out as noobs, ‘no?

I don’t have to wait for great stories until I set out on this journey of becoming a storyteller. Retell stories, make my own, whatever it takes, just do it. I’ll just pretend to be a good one until my good become better, and until my better becomes best.

What I am grateful for?

From being an aspiring engineer, to a Psychology degree holder, then an aspiring Marist Brother and a future teacher, I’m really amazed what life has to offer me with it’s somehow amazing twists and surprises. As I look back, I know I’ve planned for this a bit but I didn’t really expect that it’ll turn out like this; that I’ll become what I am now, a novice of a religious Institution.

Sometimes, I can’t help but to ask myself in disbelief, “Am I really doing this now?” Before, I’m just dreaming that I’ll be in a place where everyone respects me, where contemplation and hurrying is essential in living, that I’ll be in a place where I can just be myself and just taking all things slow. But now that I’m really living what I have in mind before, like wearing a soutane or giving some talks and recollections to students, each moment that I experience now is so surreal. I’m in awe and I’m lost of words of how to describe what I am feeling now.

I admit that at times, there’s a bit of feeling of unworthiness in my part that makes me say, “This is too good to be true. I should not be here.” But instead of regretting what I am doing at present, I just let myself be what I’m supposed to be now. I might not be that good and unworthy in my own perspective and in the eyes of other, but what am I to decline and not accept these blessings? Remember that a blessing ignored becomes a curse. This is my way of being thankful: being open to the present moment. I’m truly blessed and grateful of what I am now.

How about you, what are you grateful for at the moment?