PEBA Conquers Al Laith!

"One way to get the most out of life is to look upon it as an adventure." - William Feather

When quizzed where Al Laith can be found in Saudi Arabia, most expatriate workers especially Filipinos would pass for  the  next question convinced that some remnant from old civilization has finally been discovered from obscurity. Talking about obscurity, not too many information Google or Bing is able to dispense apart from a similar description that, yes, not a majority of Saudi residents both locals and expatriates know which part of the peninsula the town is located, and  its being a sleepy and dusty town 180 kilometers south of Jeddah.

Normally, going to places as quiet as Al Laith does not appeal to big city dwellers, hmm, unless you have suddenly developed a dislike for large shrimp and fish for which the town is known for. Compensating for the town's 'ghostly' attributes however, is the existence of the National Prawn Company - the pride of Al Laith and one of the largest prawn farms in the world. The sprawling company  alone, I heard, is a city within the city, and the invitation to visit the place couldn't come any better.

As planned originally, a group of PEBA bloggers from Jeddah along with TFC Mideast correspondent Charles Tabbu, will invade the place to witness and cover some sort of events I understand, that will take place Tuesday night under the auspices of NPC. If one wonders how did we get the invitation, well, the PEBA president Mr. Nereus Jethro Abad is one of the top managers at NPC and himself the program director of the said event. So there we go, with the media in tow, supposedly.

Always a formidable leader that he is and the most punctual too, PEBA founder Mr. Kenji Solis came at the meeting place the earliest, tagging along with him a protege and another potential talent in Mhel Mante, whose off day coincided with the trip. Pepe Cabrera and I just managed to skip from duties for this adventure. And along came Mr. Charles Tabbu in his best outfit,  sporting a bravado befitting a media man. But to some extent, the guy's entrance was far from being climactic. He had the trip cancelled the last hour because on the same night he flies to Riyadh on a company obligation. And who says we were disappointed?   Not at all, because it was not the end of the road for bloggers who wanted to be interviewed and get seen on TFC (thank Lord only those with Tagalog accent made the shortlist).

Not wanting to miss a perfect broadcast material, it didn't take long before Mr. Tabbu had the SACO parking lot converted into an instant workshop for broadcast journalism. Fifteen minutes later, the Jeddah bloggers were all but hesitant to banner their new-found profession as they  geared up for a shooting and interview mission . By then,  Mr. Tabbu was already stripped of his camera and other media paraphernalia, and oh yes,  his press ID has been turned over to some aspiring journalist too. It will be an understatement to say that our mission is nerve-wracking, not only because Mr. Tabbu wouldn't accept anything less than excellent, but because we were expected to be interviewing people in a broadcast quality setting. We didn't pretend anymore to have wanted to see him off to the airport because we wouldn't have much time left to rehearse our role to pull off our stunt convincingly. Indeed, to a novice, this was one heck of an assignment. 

If we could have dragged more with us, there was still room in the Nissan 4x4 that the NPC sent to fetch us, courtesy of Mr. Abad. Ibrahim the Sudanese driver jokingly warned us of everything Badu (Bedouin)  that would greet us there. He seemed to loosen up a bit understandably because the road is something else. We hit the road at around seven, though a little late. Just a tidbit how it's like negotiating a road to Al Laith (at nighttime) - the highway is a stretch of nothing but black, no sharp curves, except for ubiquitous road signs warning of "camels crossing", as though half of Saudi Arabia is inhabited by camels. If the driver ceased to be impressed by the lengthy drive, in which case hunger and/or sleepiness trumps virtue, the "distance to destination" road signs are as equally as ubiquitous to encourage him that the tape is  getting closer. The seemingly never ending stretch of excavation ironically helps motorists with its well-lit detour and arrow signs. 

Al Laith here we come! First off, it won't take much persuasion for one to agree that the adjectives appended to the place fit the scenery. If you're used to drive in Jeddah, you tend to obey traffic rules even in dead hour. But don't get terrified when upon entering the town, the traffic lights though working are constantly in red. There is no dereliction of duty insofar as traffic enforcers are concerned, in fact you'll find no one. It's just that the number of vehicles plying around town center are too scant to count let alone manage. Small roundabouts instead dot the street corners, perhaps their efficient way to manage traffic. 

During business hours most shops are conspicuously empty, save for a vendor or two. Seems like desolate lots forever await their tenants that never came. Most outlying streets don't  have streetlamps. I even joked that this similar setting is perfect dump site for salvage victims. And that's for some first impression folks. Wait till you hear first-hand accounts from Filipinos who swear to have loved their city. Truth be told, I didn't hear anyone of them complaining of homesickness, because the Filipino community especially at the NPC is a close-knit  family in itself, as shown in the level of camaraderie in the air.

At the venue, we heard that the program will be the closing ceremony of the Messengers of Peace and the Boy Scouts of Saudi Arabia Jamboree hosted by the town of Al Laith. But I'm not really sure as to my information, though I tried to grab one of the program brochures only to see it in full Arabic texts. The program was to be highlighted by a video and cultural presentation prepared by the Filipino talents of the NPC that sponsored the event. 

Even in Jeddah, I've never seen the over 400-year Philippine history portrayed in a single presentation. So that explains why a Rizal, a Lapu-Lapu and Marcos duplicates fight off for your attention at the dressing room. The distinctively Masskara outfits of Bacolod, the Ati-Atihan of Aklan,  the Tinikling and Igorot dancers were not to be denied of the spotlight if only for their creativity and colorful costumes.

Moments captured in sequential order:

History books say one of the earliest Philippine settlers are the Malays who drove out their Indonesian predecessors who earlier had the land's native black people or the Negritoes driven out to the mountains. To me, the settler with a spear dons a shoulder strap resembling a bullet cartridge, or perhaps it's time to brush up my history? Bad location and my grumbling midsection did not help my cause either.

Who doesn't know the story of Magellan and Lapu-Lapu in the battle of Mactan? These two guys try to overpower each other, although in the end the favored protagonist wins to the dismay of Magellan fans whose excellent swordplay is  no match to the muscular Cebuano. Got no idea if Magellan got the revenge backstage.

Dr. Jose Rizal, the Philippine national hero in his most chinito version. The book he cuddles is enough for you not to mistake him for some Korean popstar our girls back home go gaga over.

Nope, they are not  Japanese soldiers aiming their rifles at the perceived 'traitors'. In fact they are Rizal's assassins and history says they are Spaniards. Too bad for Rizal, he fell flat to his back almost hitting the narrator.

Andres Bonifacio  is the face of the Katipunan. Though he was no threat to Rizal, yet his avid fans still pose a challenge to the latter's title. Manong acted out his role convincingly that sent chills up my spine. The Saudi audience also could be seen erupting in approval though you don't expect them to be googling what KKK really signifies.

It is a fact that Saudis are not Uncle Sam's biggest fans. Not until he takes center stage that drew immense cheers from the audience. The portrayal didn't come any better in an Obama-like swagger, neck arched high- an Obama signature, and yes the skin color complemented the trick. Just I got a little problem here, I thought FDR was the wartime president.

The face has some resemblance. The slightly over-sized barong did not matter as much. This is Ferdinand Marcos, arm poised to pull off a Hitler, I mean a Martial Law declaration, I guess. Yes, even without the table in his office and the dreaded 1081 in his hand, the Martial Law got declared. Later I learned Marcos is an Ilonggo. He  speaks just like me. 

The emergence of basketball as the most popular sport in the Philippines. These guys did a great job emulating Caloy Loyzaga's era when the country  once placed fifth at the Olympics. Except of course that when you play defence you don't smile a lot and trick the dribbler into glaring at your forehead when it emits some fierce light.

Arguably the most famous Filipino is Manny Pacquiao. Volumes have been said about this southpaw from Gensan, hence a real Filipino pride. He is immensely wealthy and famous. He graces magazine covers and rubs elbows with  Hollywood celebrities. Our protagonist above may be no match to the real Pacquiao, but he swears he will give the guy a run for his (Pacquiao's) money when they both belt out "Sometimes when we touch", of course diction is 50% of the criteria.

I'm still perplexed whether it's some sort of sticks made of rolled cardboard or real wood used in modern arnis. But what impresses me is their precision and grace. Even locals were transfixed at the spectacle. If one day they started to trade their sandals for an arnis in a fight, then we are convinced we left a legacy there. By the way, Mr. Abad how many off days you gave the guys to practice their stunt?

Can somebody tell me is this an Igorot tribe? I'm a little lost (read as dummy) when it comes to indigenous costumes. The dance though was gorgeous. The costumes rarely a staple in the nearest flea market, and that says a lot of the effort. I'm also convinced some moral police present had their orientation taken seriously, re some exposed skin/abs here are not to be taken either seriously .

A war dance. I thought the costumes and props were meticulously crafted, and that's where the audience's attention was drawn to. A tremendous amount of talent is what I see here. Making a shield and  cleaver duplicates ( I heard they're made of carton) could use up a week's time? The warrior prays that his cleaver doesn't break or he has a straw in his hair left for his arsenal.

This is what we call a Maglalatik dance, another hit to the audience. Latik in the southern part is always associated with coconut, hence the props. Our protagonists in yellow seem to be racing to outshine each other with each pulling off separate moves. Kuya in the center obviously is the leader/choreographer. "Please don't copy me", he says to the left. "Look I have made my bra into a choker!"

Another distinctly Filipino "Sayaw sa Bangko" or chair dance proved to be another showstopper.  I thought if Mang Pula is a lot heavier than Mang Azul, then there goes the show. This is the show's part when I prayed not one of them loses his balance and hits the floor. Overall the dance was fantastic as much as the skills  were superb.

Oh yes, this is almost the highlight. To say that the audience was mesmerized is simply an understatement. The skills, the steps, the beat, the synchronization all made up for a fodder for all eyes to get fixated to. That uniqueness I think gives Tinikling a more well-deserved status worthy to be called as national dance. 

The Ati-Atihan of Aklan is a festive and colorful street dance. It is almost as old as history. Ati refers to a person with black skin and kinky hair. Their features are more similar to the Aborigines and the locals of Papua New Guinea. They were thought to be the first inhabitants of Panay and Negros islands. Given the scant supply of charcoal in the KSA, our three protagonists had only their necks and faces painted black in a quasi dalmatian spoof minus the bark, but with a bite.

Move over Mardi Gras. The Masskara Festival is uniquely Negrense. Sounds familiar huh? I'd been watching this on the streets of Bacolod since I was a kid. Oh dear, it brings back a lot of memories. Thanks to these four guys who did justice well enough to the grandeur that is Masskara. Dazzling costumes, along with some abs, and oh yes some cleavage too can come in a package.

The entire cast appears onstage eliciting loud cheers from the audience. And who would not? The show did not disappoint. In fact I could have slipped through the rows and collected ten riyals from every one in attendance.

If there was one surreal and proudest moment we had, this was it - the Philippine National Anthem being played in front of a packed Saudi audience. I heard some choked up while the anthem is being played, I thought I was alone. I later heard myself from the video I recorded, belting out  as if I am in a trance. :-)

He is not kind of reciting some Boy Scout oath. This scout official demonstrates a profound respect to the Filipino flag while the Philippine National Anthem is being played. It was odd to see him the only one standing in the front row where dignitaries are seated. It took a while however, before others realized the faux pas and followed suit. Breach of protocol? No. It was a miscue for they heard the song for the first time other than theirs when Ittihad and Hilal lock horns in the pitch.

The dignitaries at the front row to their amazement at an all-Filipino male crew's ability  to put up with  lack of female counterparts, yet the moves still turn out to be graceful. If Saudis eventually decide to incorporate Hair Dance in their own all-male shows then we have a really big problem here. Blame it on some hip-swaying skills by the Filipino talents that drag some audience into confusion, but the talents certainly will not be denied of the rapturous response.

Hear ye, hear ye! This one could paint a thousand words! Might as well be entry material for this year's PEBA photo contest? Anyone?

Man of the Hour Pepe Cabrera steadies the lens as Engr. Ahmed Al Balla, Managing Director of the National prawn Company heaps his appreciation on Filipino talents and citing their great contribution to the company, in an interview.

Despite the unanimous hesitation to stay longer, we agreed to Mr. Khaled Al Aldali's invitation to experience their state-of-the-art digitarium, where we were basically treated to a barrage of shooting stars and celestial bodies that adorn the galaxy, live as shown from their own satellite. I don't know if I described it right. We were then ushered to  their own screening room (not quite inferior to that of Megamall's), and had a taste of 3D experience. That explains why we got dazed even more, this time starving stomach didn't take the blame.

PEBA people and Filipino managers at NPC pose with Mr. Khaled Al Aldali, NPC's Head of Corporate Social Responsibility. After the photo ops, the group headed straight to the restaurant where talents and volunteers had almost staged a rebellion in a fit of starvation. We feared Marcos, Magellan and Pacquiao could cause a melee as it was almost 12 midnight sans dinner.

The talents minus their costumes still manage to smile once confronted with a lens. This time PEBA founding chairman Mr. Kenji Solis initiated the trick that essentially calmed the starving souls down. Once served, 26 basins of kabsa got wolfed down mercilessly, with the sexy part (thighs) competing with chicken wings flying around oral cavities. I have to admit though, that was my best dinner in quite a while. 

Three and a half hours later we were safely back home. Thanks to our dear PEBA president Mr. Abad, for taking good care of us and credit also goes to Ibrahim who ferried us back to Jeddah safe and sound. My gratitude goes to God for His protection and provision, all the glory belongs to Him. Indeed, what an adventure it has been!

**pictures courtesy of Mhel Mante, the event's lensman whose stamina was truly unbelievable. Good job Mhel!

On Blogging And Winning (My PEBA Experience)

"The men who try to do something and fail are infinitely better than those who try nothing and succeed." -  Lloyd Jones

Before I could even decide the title of my blog , and as I am computer illiterate, the whole concept of blogging  was completely foreign to me. I did not even know what  to write or if should I actually write. I would say my foray into blogging happened by accident. Let's say I did not have the luxury of time  in front of the computer, for in the first place I did not own one. In our company accommodation, I have a colleague who has been blogging since early 2008 but I never had any idea what he was up to. On off days and after work, much of his time centers around blogging, blog-hopping and facebooking while I am contented to while my time on TFC. 

Typically, one major reason why I opted not to buy a computer was that, I hated it to get addicted to it apart from its being expensive. But thanks to a little Ramadan bonus, I finally decided to buy one for myself in October 2009 -- a rather cheap brand but at least I would not be waiting till my colleague complains of spine-breaking stint in front of his computer before I could finally check my email.

Not that I am the type that can easily be influenced or gullible for that matter, but the prodding of my colleague to get me on the bandwagon just appealed to me. Essentially, creating a blog is one thing and writing a post is another. And I have to admit, I am the least confident person you will ever know, so much that even in high school I would sit at the back row and never participate in recitation, never wanting to be at the front of the pack and drawing attention. So, in essence, my first blog post would be my first piece of essay in my whole conscious life. Still, I did not know what to write and not confident to write. So, my colleague helped me out on my first post and it turned out to be a video of Efren Penaflorida campaigning for support for the CNN Hero of the Year Award.

On my second post, I remember I wrote at least four paragraphs about typhoon Ondoy, and to my surprise, a blogger by the name of IsladeNebz had left his comment. And to tell you, his comment was so sincere that it helped me grow some confidence. And that was the start of it. One post bore another until I met some great bloggers on the blogosphere whom I truly admire for their great personality on top of their great writing skills. That time also coincided with the PEBA fever and everyone on the blogosphere seemed to be hyped-up by these award stuff, and most bloggers I've known were also nominees. (I've been especially a fan of IsladeNebz, Palipasan, The Pink Tarha and FrancescaInFrance.)  As expected, all of them ran away with top awards.

Joining contests may be last in my bucket list, let alone essay-writing contest. So it never occurred to me finding myself  writing an entry to a theme I feel strongly about. Lacking in confidence and only few blog posts to brag, I was wondering if I could write effectively that would resonate with readers. Apart my strong views about the theme, I also had my experiences and lessons in life to rely on as my inspiration to write an entry. To be able to share my story through blog is already a rewarding experience, but getting a recognition for your work, to me it is really something. 

Luckily for me, my entry was officially recognized as one of the nominees. And to be counted alongside others whose entries were masterpieces in their own right, was a life's trophy in itself. I would say my goal did not stop there, for obviously I became too ambitious to have wanted to land in the top ten. The nominee banner that hung on the side bar of my blog would have done me a great deal of contentment, but PEBA had another thing in mind. A week or so before the awards night, came a really great surprise when I received an email from PEBA, informing me that my blog will receive one of the awards. And mind you, the awards night coincided with my birthday, so the timing didn't get any better than that. 

Over lunch, my mind vacillates between the pros and cons if ever I decided to send one of my siblings on my behalf. As financial considerations weighed heavily on my decision, I was faced with a dilemma whether to skip the awards night or not. Sending a sibling or two from Bacolod to Manila (and back) by plane is really costly and wouldn't help my family tide over on Christmas. Finally, I texted my sister at the spur-of-the-moment decision. Her reply was, "are you serious?" kind of thing. For the record, none of my other nine siblings has ever traveled by plane, so I kind of anticipated the shock it gave them. It's just that, I had a really tough time explaining to them about some 'strange' things that confronted them. By the way, apart from fulfilling my obligations to them, they had no idea what I am up to let alone this thing called blogging. So to make things rather simple for them to understand, I said I joined a contest and won something and that they should receive my prize.

Watching my big sister on live stream holding up my trophy was a surreal feeling, so to speak. The occasion marked so many firsts in our humble lives. Not that I felt overwhelmed by its grandiosity, but to someone who  barely had college education and be mentioned in the same breath as the finest bloggers I really admire, to me that was crazy. On arriving home in Silay City, my two sisters have not run out of stories to tell. Maybe not so much about the glitz and glamour at the venue, or the freebies that they took home with them, not even the dizzying skyways and colossal traffic that confronted them, but on feeling proud of the recognition I received.

The hype over PEBA  2010 might have faded in days, yet the greater cause greater than PEBA itself will have lingered in the hearts and minds of those wonderful people behind it. The noble goals they set may have not been reached in its entirety, however we OFW bloggers, could not find a better and more visible platform than this, that allows us to champion our common cause and getting our sentiments heard, so that we don't fret if our collective voice seems not to matter in a bigger stage. The PEBA that I know is one that, from my point of view, offers multidimensional agenda by not only tapping raw talents through blogging, but more than anything, to be able to help OFW communities around the world one way or another, and serving as a voice  by raising  awareness in  matters that concern the OFW diaspora in general.

Without a doubt, this year's theme "Ako'y Babalik Hatid Ko'y Pagbabago"  resonates  with all OFWs who have left their families hoping for a brighter future. If there comes an opportunity that we feel compelled to share our thoughts, stories that inspire, or even lamentations from frustrations so that they serve readers  a lesson, then this is the best time. Here at PEBA, every story is unique, every thought and aspiration  of ordinary OFW like me is provided a platform to get read and  inspire others. So, if you are a blogger and the prospect of getting your story published through PEBA amuses you, then this is your time to shine. Another milestone waiting to be added to your already accomplished  resume could be just around the corner.

Inept POEA: A Bane To OFWs

"A certain combination of incompetence and indifference can cause almost as much suffering as the most acute malevolence." - Bruce Catton

Let's talk about mundane things here, I mean, the Filipino way.  I guess nobody will argue with the consensus that the dreadful  long queues at the POEA grounds that extend to EDSA  even before dawn  is world-renowned. Though office hours officially start at eight in the morning, notice that some personnel maintain their propensities for having much to do with nothing before actually hitting the ground running, on their term, fifteen minutes later. By this time, the breakfast-less and sleep deprived hordes of people are already in their palest. Seriously, a day at this notorious government office is dreaded by all.

If you think  adherence to the famed American time gives you an edge over  third-world behaviors, think again. Labeling them desperate and insane  will not help their cause, because the OFWs falling in line outside of the POEA even before the roster crows are perfectly sane and hardworking citizens who are reluctant recipients of the lethal bureaucracy entrenched in the veins of government officials. 

Jose is just one of the thousands of OFWs that flock to the POEA everyday. His case was no extraordinary. He just needs to secure an Overseas Employment Certificate (OEC) because every returning OFW has to have one as a government requirement for them to be allowed to fly back to their work destinations abroad. He complains that  if his company had only given his passport days before his flight for Manila, he could have easily secured his OEC from the Jeddah Consulate and not facing this horrendous ordeal that he is into. With barely an hour of sleep and left with no choice but to confront his ordeal, Jose had to get up already even others could  just be starting  rolling out their blankets. He would insist, he had been doing this already almost a fortnight into his vacation.

At three early morning, breakfast or coffee forgone, he sees himself tugging his red eyes so as not to fall asleep, while one hand grips the handrail over his head and the other clutches his backpack loaded with documents to prove he really is a documented OFW, a vacationing OFW at that, whose misfortune he finds himself in, he swears, he blames on the government's inefficiency and its legendary bureaucracy. He has in fact lost count of the number of times he catches an early tricycle ride on an unholy hour of day to make it early at the POEA grounds, to get in line and hope to get a really nice number -  and failed another time.

While still in Jeddah, he already had itineraries planned for a month's vacation. This time he says, he promised to spend quality time with his family or perhaps a vacation in Baguio. Thinking that he needed to secure his requirements first, on the second day of his arrival, he already found himself in a monstrous queue that others say had formed long before daybreak. Still his only first day at what would later turn out to be a two-week ordeal, and  no dearth of virtues yet, as everybody else goes through similar circumstances.   Queuing up at seven in the morning and your number called out at around three in the afternoon probably is no exciting moment, at least he's already a step closer to the finish line. But once he got there, he was told to renew his passport that will expire three months later. 

For whatever reason, the government that determines the validity of one's passport does not accept a passport to be valid with an active life remaining of still three months. (I guess if you have a return ticket after exactly a month's vacation, and still your passport is over two months valid, I find no reason why an OFW cannot travel back and decides for himself to renew it in the embassy or consulate in the host country where he finds it convenient). The dreadful thing is, even obtaining a form for renewal or passport extension will take another day for which you will be required to come back again, and repeating the same process all over again. Jose complied diligently and after five days his passport was released, its validity already extended. Take note that every compliance of documents or a mere change of counter, one needs to reach deep into his pocket to make people in the government happy.

At long last Jose thought this could be it. This was going to be the final phase of his agony - of getting up at three before dawn and sleepless, taking three separate rides, patiently standing in the queue for hours, and needless to say a growling stomach already trained into submission. He however had the slightest idea that his real ordeal had just started when at the counter he was promptly told that he cannot be issued an OEC because he cannot be considered a Balik-Manggagawa (returning OFW). At first, he thought the woman was not referring to him because he in every sense of the word is a certified legal OFW - that is unless you're faced with a dilemma of either you lack technical merits, and or you are talking to a moron behind a hole. In this case, the POEA has its own set of criteria to determine whether an OFW is legal or documented to be  considered a returning or vacationing OFW.

And how on earth he was refused issuance of OEC? If Jose has with him a valid passport with an exit-reentry visa valid within  45 days appended to it, and a return ticket to Jeddah, then how could the POEA classify him as not a real Balik-Mangagawa? Their contention however is, he had a couple different names written in his passport as his sponsors, which is not the case. They further argued that it is illegal for him to work for a new employer while still under the sponsorship of his first sponsor. And after a drawn-out debate, he was told to proceed to the second floor for assessment of his case, for which he will be asked to provide a contract copy that further stipulates that the employer takes responsibility for the repatriation of the remains of the employee in case he dies in the host country. Okay, before we react simultaneously, this is what the Aquino government wanted to implement to advance the cause of OFWs. Nice try though, not really moronic. This is fine albeit shocking, yet utterly disgusting.

The following reasons prove that POEA has failed to look at the merits of Jose's case:
1. Jose was hired in 2006 by his first sponsor after which he obtained release after a year with no obligation whatsoever to the latter. Please note that Jose had transferred to his second sponsor (a personal friend of his first sponsor) in 2007, therefore making the former his new and legal sponsor as shown in his iqama (residence permit). To educate the stupid and unqualified people of POEA, let me tell you that in Saudi Arabia, it is perfectly legal to transfer sponsorship even for the third time, meaning you can have four different sponsors one after another if you wish to.

2. Jose had already gone on vacation in 2009 under his current sponsor, therefore this is already his second vacation under the same sponsor, in fact his fourth year already under his current sponsor.

3. He has a return ticket to Jeddah and an exit-reentry visa valid within 45 days. That alone supports his cause to be considered a legal OFW.

4. In his 2009 vacation, he secured his OEC from the Jeddah Consulate with no fuss at all and not a bit of change in his status. The only difference is that, people at the Consulate can read and understand Arabic and are well-versed with the Saudi Labor Law. If there's any hint or trace of irregularity, they are the first people to detect it, unlike at the POEA where employees just like to act smart in order to intimidate the OFWs.
5. And if ever the stupid brains behind this stupid game of moronic proportion wanted him to bleed in order for him to furnish them a stupid contract that stipulates some stupid thing, then he could not, because it's impossible. Jose was hired directly from the Philippines under a driver's visa but works in Saudi Arabia as a Visual Merchandising Specialist and getting a good salary that he will never find in his five lifetimes in the Philippines.

So why still refuse to issue an OEC to a documented OFW who has only gone on vacation so that he could take a needed rest and enjoy time with his family? This is crazy because refusal to issue an OEC to a vacationing OFW is tantamount to depriving his entire family a life and a future. Who would have thought that a supposed great vacation turned into nightmare? Literally, I think the poor guy really needed a punching bag! I could see him sobbing his way through a nearby store  and struggling to carry a caseload of beer, and getting tears all over the IKEA sheepskin he brought home, as his stupid tormentors go about with their usual habit  of  feasting on someone else's life in between coffee breaks.

The situation he was in was far from what he had hoped for - a well-planned vacation that turned out to be anything but happy. But for all its worthy cause, and nothing greater than fighting for your family to survive, the will and faith in God will see him through, especially when the very existence of your loved ones is on the line. From great friends - personal and virtual - a network of support came in. Despite the odds seemingly getting slimmer, and depression almost took over, he had not lost sight of his rights and his purpose. 

Before then, however, PEBA volunteers had already initiated some steps to help his cause through its founder Jebee Kenji Solis. And no less than Ms. Susan Ople, the daughter of the great former senator Blas Ople had offered help to convince the POEA that Jose is a documented OFW, and therefore should be allowed to get the OEC. Even Ms. Ople had apprehensions that what they were trying to do was a long shot considering that the new POEA policy re squeezing out a contract from a vacationing OFW should be upheld. (Without the contract, an OFW is deemed illegal.) Jose's cause could have merited him a slot high up in the mountains with the Reds,  it's just that the very entity he was fighting against, is the government that vows to pursue a "straight path" and encourages its citizens to work hard for their family and country. His only transgression though was his failure to get OEC from the Jeddah Consulate that he was left with no choice but to suffer from the stupendous stupidity by the insecure and irrational POEA people.

Though there was no clear cut solution to Jose's problem, the effort of Ms. Ople to speak with one of the big bosses of POEA was nothing short of commendable. His dilemma remained for a brutal two weeks, half-way through his vacation, with no hope in sight. Still, he is not ready to wave a white flag. And who does when you see your family weeping with you? He thought if he will give up easily and not give his last shot, the government will not give him a cent either, for he cannot be classified as displaced, to them he is illegal and therefore should be punished.

And his last recourse - give another try, perhaps his last.  And again he followed the same routine - filled out a form, the same familiar form, except that he made some changes - he wrote the name of his first sponsor as  his current sponsor (which is not the right information since it has been  five years since he had transferred legally).  And voila! They did not question him because he had returned to his first sponsor, therefore he is no longer illegal. Quickly, the most-prized OEC was issued to him to his great relief, as though he won a lottery.  And yes, because he wrote a different name, the wrong name, he suddenly became a legal and documented OFW. Kudos to you morons at the POEA whose understanding of the Saudi Labor Law is  nil! When are you going to realize that your sheer incompetence and ineptitude almost ruined lives of hapless people who feel helpless because you idiots in the bureaucracy do not have the capacity of sound reasoning?

Even the penguins of Antarctica will swear that the human species called OFW  is the milking cow of the 13th most populous country in the world called the Philippines. And despite the superficial accolade accorded them, they are sometimes treated no more than a bunch of annoying  export commodity by people in the government. Some people think that because they work in the government they are there to uphold the system, even if it means the system goes against logic and humanity. Yet, it is utterly incomprehensible to say the least,  how government employees at the POEA can be so stupid and dumb to ignore facts and reason laid down before their noses, and still insist that they are just protecting the dignity and welfare of OFWs even if it means to deprive them of their life and future.

Jose learned his lesson the hard way. Half of his vacation wasted and gone - he did not enjoy a family outing, decided not to celebrate his birthday, did not have time to go out with his wife and daughters - depression got the better of him - all because he thought his family's future fades slowly before his eyes - because the administration he helped campaign to win in Jeddah, "cares" for his welfare and the rest of the OFWs. Jose only had his instinct to trust and of course God. If he did not try the last time, he would have not discovered the art of fooling the fool that refuses reason for fear of being humbled. And so  he lives to tell another day that God's grace is sufficient for those who persevere.




* Jose is a blogger who maintains three blogs including a photo blog that counts some media personalities in the Philippines as its fans. In 2010, he won recognition from PEBA as one of its winners in a photo contest.

Thank You PEBA!

“The real winners in life are the people who look at every situation with an expectation that they can make it work or make it better" - Barbara Pletcher

My 77-year old mother riddled me with incessant queries over the phone; forget that my yelling reached  a cracking decibels yet unaudible to her as much. My younger brother had bombarded me with questions too. Why am I sending my two sisters to Manila for what? Turns out a rather difficult task to explain to them what I am up to apart from being the most responsible breadwinner on the planet. My woes just started. I vowed not to make promises again - even for a birthday's worth. Earlier, I was not too ecstatic about PEBA night knowing my odds of winning tipped the other side. I knew I had a strong entry, written from the heart and experience. But there were other criteria that my blog fell off from. Silently though I had promised a birthday present for myself if things get my way.

Two weeks preceding PEBA night, I had somewhat a realization that I'm not gonna make it as one of the awardees. Looking at the trend: Alexa ranking - I'm almost dead last - on online voting a perennial bottom dweller - oh yes I have one of the most boring blogs too. Even myself hated my own style of writing - impulsive, preachy, daring - Nebz would call it vitriolic sometimes. To unwittingly lunge it into a lighter sphere suits not my persona, observes a fellow blogger. And so I stopped begging for votes. I'd been mum on Facebook about this obnoxious vote-for-me boo-boos. "I had other things to get obsessed about", my mind consoles my psyche. But my mind has it. If I ever get to the top ten, I will send one of my siblings from Negros to represent me to the awards night.

Exactly a week before PEBA night, I received an email from Yanah Bautista informing me that I have been chosen to receive an award. I had hoped I was in the top ten. As to the kind of award, you certainly won't know until the awards night itself. Hmmm...I remember PEBA site announces 40 plus trophies are to be given out. So I was not sure whether my blog landed on the top ten, or perhaps a special citation for the most melodramatic entry. As I recall, other entries were more of a tearjerkers too so I am not alone contending for that plum. Plus the fact that I was told to make a video of myself or acceptance speech for the awards night. "Oh this is cruel", I resented. I will not in a million years do that - humiliating myself in front of hundreds of people? No way! The message certainly won't get through but my thick Ilonggo accent. Let me just make an essay about world peace or Gloria's mole in fifteen minutes but not this thing called public speaking, albeit a recorded one.

Whether I was in the top ten or not reigns incredulously in my mind. Shall I send my sister to Manila or not, plays tug-of-war in my mind. Over lunch that day, my mind vacillates between the pros and cons of my decision. If I throw a fortune for a two-way ticket plus accommodation, I will have nothing left to help my family tide over this Christmas. Okay, comes the impulse. I had to summon my strongest will. I texted my sister in a spur-of-the-moment. She replied like "are you serious?" kind of thing. Honestly, they have no idea what is this thing called blog. They have the slightest idea what I am up to apart from religiously sending my monthly remittances to them. After much deliberation, one will not go unaccompanied so I had two of them baptized in their first ever taste of air travel. And so, the bleeding of my pocket gushed like no other. What else?

Accommodation though was not sort of a problem because we have  friends in Bicutan who are more than wiling to offer them  a couple of night's sleepover. But as so often happens to those innocent enough to venture  the concrete jungle webbed with superhighways and skyways, heading to the event venue certainly guarantees another headache. And so I had to beg the organizers a couple of seats more to accommodate certified city slickers to chaperone them. Grateful to have found willing volunteers, I instructed them not to come late so as not to avail of SRO. True enough, they arrived at the venue an hour earlier and were duly ushered to the front row. An hour and half past six, the program has not commenced yet as the venue is slowly filled with guests who either got stuck in hellish traffic or got dazed with a finding nemo predicament.

Before the live streaming got to air, my cellular phone was already mired in traffic - this time complaints that the program will not start  a little too soon and some midsection already started to grumble as well. I thought I missed out on the awarding of photo entries as should have preceded the blog entries. Due to time constraint or some  lapses perhaps, the photo awards were not given out that instantly became an issue of seismic proportions. Special blog awards were given out first for different categories. Some blogs even scooped up multiple awards like Friendster, Facebook and Nokia awards. This is what you call misery loves company. "If I ended up zero that night, I think there will still be more losers than winners", I conceded. "So I am in the majority's side", me consoling myself. :-) But wait, I was told I'd be getting one. Until the best blog award for Mideast and Africa was announced. So the rest will have to contend for 2nd to 10th place knowing fully well that most of the strongest entries come from this region.

When my blog was announced, my sister glided the stage elegantly and held up my trophy as though she too won an Oscar. And yes, she was very proud of his small brother - a college dropout who has become his family's breadwinner since eighteen. This blogger had been through so many tough times in life - of being a sidewalk vendor often harassed by police, of getting duped by employment agencies, of becoming homeless in Abu Dhabi, and jobless in Jeddah, what else he has not gone through? There were times I cried reading my own posts about me, my struggles and my regrets. Though my mother does not understand about this blogging award, I'm sure she is proud of me too, for what I have done for our family.

On arriving home in Silay City, my two sisters have not run out of stories to tell. Maybe not so much about the glitz and glamor at the venue or the freebies that they took home with them. Not even the dizzying skyways and colossal traffic that confronted them, but on feeling proud of the recognition that I got. One of them asked me why I had to choose my nickname to be written on the trophy instead of my real name. By the way, in Negros I am Isoy or Isiock to most of them. Rarely do they call me Nelson. Since the title of my blog is !Soy Negrense! they read it as Isoy. Believe me I could not stop laughing at the blooper. So I had to explain to them that it is Spanish which means I am a Negrense. And my mother had her moment too. She said is this all my 'pasalubong' for her? A Plate? She would further argue that we had a lot of plates already and that she doesn't prefer glass because it breaks easily. :-)

Whether my blog deserves to be in the top ten or not is for anyone's opinion. I too have my own set of favorites and seven of them got to the top ten. And I am very happy that my predictions held true. So more or less the judges got it right. Winning fifth place is not bad on a first try. To me, there are greater reasons why sometimes we are compelled to write our own stories and share our lives to others. With PEBA's advocacy on strengthening OFW families in light of rising incidence of failed marriages and broken families, I could not find a bettter and more visible platform than this to be able to tell the world of what is actually happening behind the sacrifices of an OFW family brought about by diasporic migration in pursuit of a better life. There are still countless other stories that waited to be heard - of love, sacrifices, dreams and sometimes failures that become fixtures in a life of an OFW.

My deepest gratitude to the PEBA founder Mr. Jebee Kenji Solis and PEBA president Mr. Nereus Jethro Abad,  for their enormous efforts and sacrifices to make the PEBA event a resounding success - and of course to all the PEBA people around the world - and in the Philippines for their extraordinary passion and dedication to make PEBA a real platform for OFW excellence, whereby blogs are a powerful tool to get OFW sentiments heard across the world - sending out inspiration and strong statement that we are not just another group or sector but an organization, a genuine one, founded with a genuine vision and mission - to carry the torch of  OFW causes - and be a catalyst for change one way or another. I salute you guys! Thank you for making my birthday a truly memorable one! Merry Christmas to all!

Of Profits And Perils

"Unless it is the Lord that builds the house, the laborers labor in vain (Psalms 127:1)."

Apparently, there can't just be all happiness and success in life, it must come at a cost somehow. When some earned it and worked for it, others chose to ruin it. Benjie (not his real name) is a former colleague in Jeddah. He  is a father of three and a husband to his attractive wife Jessa. He draws a hefty salary. He gets to travel in Spain to train for the company. She is a typical OFW wife. She's addicted to shopping and loves flaunting around a can-afford status. "Generosity to oneself is no privilege earned, it is a right", she rationalizes. And likewise he does. A nice job and an ability to provide for his family beyond their needs, are reasons strong enough to reward himself too,  of some slice of generosity - albeit in the form of another woman's bosom. Comes Mia in his life. She is a Muslim, a Maranao from Lanao del Sur. She's unmarried and a certified runaway. They fell in love. She got pregnant. When a Maranao association learned of her plight, they threatened to get him. His life and career then started to crumble. If caught, Mia could  be deported right away, for Benjie - lengthy jail time and lashes await him. It didn't take long before he found himself dragging his luggage from a conveyor belt at NAIA. Worse, he discovered his wife having an affair with a college student. The two eventually agreed to separate. But his misery just did not seem to stop when  his 16-year old daughter revealed she was pregnant.  As for his baby boy left in Jeddah, he is already one year old now, and very healthy under the care of a surrogate gay parent.

Two blocks from our company accommodation, Aling Editha keeps herself busy with her thriving homemade tocino and longaniza business. I am one of her 'suki'. She lives with Mang Eddie, her 'husband' here of twelve years. They have no children. Them are a normal couple living happily and 'legally'; thanks to a marriage certificate obtained from the Consulate. He works for a local media group as photojournalist, while she juggles between her full-time job as manicurist and her tocino business . They are a picture of a happy couple but both are not hesitant to admit they have their own respective families in the Philippines. He could automatically qualify to sponsor his wife but opts not to. Instead, he settles  for an annual vacation. Yes, it is extremely painful for their families back home had they known of  the situation.. Yet their cases are not isolated. They are all over the map.  Let's face it. These are real stories of real people.

Despite this alarming trend, there are also feel-good stories of a handful OFWs who keep the dignities of their families protected. Across the Gulf in Abu Dhabi, Elmer works as an aircon technician. (We both worked as warehouse helpers in a garment factory inside FTI Complex some years back, and just recently we found each other on Facebook.) Despite his rather low-paying job, he was able to build a modest home in Indang, Cavite with the help of his wife who started a small carinderia and sari-sari store. From their initial capital of 7,000 pesos, their business has grown dramatically in seven years. Elmer meanwhile waits for his completion of ten years in his company to be with his wife and two kids. I asked him how he is able to put together enough resilience and perseverance in his work. His reply was nothing of the extraordinary. " I draw my inspiration from my wife and kids who in turn draw inspiration from me. And my strength, I draw from God." Ah, I almost forgot he earlier told me he is an active member of the music ministry in a local Christian fellowship in Abu Dhabi.

Indeed a variety of stories each OFW can relate. Mostly inspiring yet some are frustrating. Each story reminds us,  that our love for our loved ones has brought us to wherever we are now and guided us to whatever we have become.  This year's theme advocated by PEBA does not only put the spotlight on the family as the most basic unit of society, therefore  the most important too. We all love our families and nobody would argue about that.  Each of us has our own purpose why we chose to be separated from them. To give our loved ones a better tomorrow easily tops our agenda. To most of us, it is purely economic reason and economic reason alone. To others maybe not, but for the majority including me it is.

For a kid born to a big family of twelve, in a place where barefoot seven-year olds ditch their being kids for a day sweating out under the sun while dodging the wrath of stinging sugarcane leaves, life indeed offered little compassion. Hardly able to get by, with my father alone in his responsibility to feed us all, my mother could only offer little resistance in between sobs, knowing that her children are leaving one after the other. My older brother for Surallah in South Cotabato to work in  a  ricefield, and my sister who next sailed to Iloilo to work as babysitter who eventually took my other sister with her later. And another sister who was barely fifteen, was hired by our neighbor to work as housemaid for a Chinese family in Mandaue.

Other than the scourge of scarcity, ours was a picture of a contented family. Our parents who themselves did not complete primary school, recognized the value of  education - or at least higher than what they had reached. Unable to realize that dream for their children, when we basically struggled to keep our heads above water, we had to be sent out  somewhere, either to work so as to get to school, or to work just to be able to survive. Time and destiny would later conspire that I faced my own. Armed with a few units in college (and some fierce determination), I decided it was my time to slowly weave my own destiny, oblivious of the difficulties that lie ahead, yet mindful of the same that inspired me to press on. My inspiration? - my father who worked tirelessly and saw to it that there was food on the table, and my mother who had to routinely get up before dawn  (albeit stealthily so as not to wake us),  to prepare the village folks' favorite 'bibingka' so that we have notebooks and pencils in school.

No matter what the circumstances in life, it is our love for them that keeps us going. They are our strength and inspiration. They are the reason why we persist to exist even at times when we almost refused to. We put their interest before our own. To the point that we are reluctant to tell our sad tales  in a foreign land because we don't want them to worry about us.  Of being routinely tossed aside from the till point where I was serving, to clean the bathroom because our Arabian colleagues are deemed unworthy touching the dreadful. Of believing that being the breadwinner, it is a natural thing to subsist on a diet of eggs and noodles to make do of a salary too scanty for the whole family . However, all the feelings of cynicism and self pity of having to forget yourself, and anger for being discriminated against, just go away with the thoughts of them.  But nothing beats the pain of losing a father without having tasted the fruits of my sacrifices and not seeing him lowered to his final abode.

"She knew the uncertainties that await her in Kuwait. She gambled but kept the faith. To feed her son and send him to school topped her list. And there is her mother who is sick. But in an instant all her dreams perished, now her family mourns of her death. As the collective OFW diaspora swiftly reacted in rage, the pain inflicted on the family of Asria Samad can never be healed. What she only knew then - she loved her family, and the pains of not being able to feed them superseded that of the perils that she will have faced. Indeed she did pay with her life - dearly - and lost it." 

Invincible fortitude, unassailable spirit and fierce determination, serve as our arsenal that equips us in our battle with uncertainties in a foreign land. Them that keeps us staying afloat through stormy seas. Them that enabled our immune system to strengthen us when we needed comfort and care.  Yes, they are our loved ones.  It is the thoughts of them that cool us down under the oppressive desert sun by the Gulf. And the thoughts of them blubbering  neath our epidermis that keep us warm in a freezing Alaskan shore. And the thoughts of them that keep us sane  in a chaotic Tel Aviv nursing home. How I wish we had the fortitude and resilience of Elmer and the spirit and determination of Asria. Regrettably, others like Benjie and Jessa who did not stand by their vows to each other, chose to crush the dignity of their family. As for Mang Eddie and Aling Editha, their love affair shows no sign of waning, albeit flourishing in this part of the world yet uncertain in another.

Strangely enough, some of us articulated our mission time and time again, that no matter what the circumstances in life, we are willing to make sacrifices for our loved ones, and yet we make it on our own terms. The mission of realizing those dreams that keeps our reluctant feet going is no longer paramount, but has suddenly been blurred by the slightest tickle of temptation that beckons us. Who are we fooling? Can we count those precious innocent lives who have been at the receiving end of broken families? How many OFW's daughters got pregnant at 16? And misguided young sons into drug addiction and criminality? Are they not daily fixtures in our primetime appetite? We certainly hate them to happen to us. And so why subscribe to the eternal mantra of the deceitful that "I am only human", therefore I am into this habit? We all know that there is no magic formula as to how one remains faithful to his or her spouse. It is a daily battle that could be won in one's own term, no secret formula, it is a given one, stand our ground and keep the faith is all what we need.

Fellow OFWs, unmarried and not,  we all know of our purpose and mission in a foreign land. Some of us may have opted to permanently settle in a country that gave us the fulfillment of our dreams, yet most of us are homebound to our loved ones to share the fruits of our sacrifices. A modest house, a hefty bank account or the flashiest gadgets - all of these will go to naught  sans a family that firmly stands. For no amount of temporal things will ever surpass the joy of seeing your family  complete under one roof. As the PEBA president announces (in his message),  that failed marriages among OFWs are on the rise, it is high time that you stand resolutely to safeguard the dignity of your family. To those blessed with spouses, communication of all sorts are in abundance. Use them to your advantage. Encourage and comfort each other, for tendencies of infidelity abound wielding its  clout and power, its threat  knows no age,  dispensation it has none.  And let us remember, that the success of a person is not gauged by what he has achieved in life, but by the amount of respect he has earned.

Most importantly, let's not forget our Maker - our only source of life and strength. Seek  His guidance and protection -  He who made us and loved us. When we make Him  the central figure of our household, all our cares and worries get subdued.  For unless it is the Lord that builds the house, the laborers labor in vain (Psalms 127:1). Because we only exist by His grace for  apart from Him we can do nothing.  Isn't our God bigger than any of our problems?

Lastly, I would like to applaud the PEBA people for their advocacies on  strengthening OFW families, in light of the rising incidences of failed marriages and misguided children caused by separation from loved ones. I would also like to thank them for encouraging new bloggers like me to share our thoughts and stories, or perhaps lessons worth sharing that will serve as inspiration to others. This year's theme they put  forth is timely and carries a sense of urgency, that opens up the reality behind the sacrifices of an OFW family and the price they have to pay in their pursuit of a better life. As for those who have lost their lives like Asria and many others who have suffered a similar fate, the lives of their loved ones left behind will never be the same again.  Aren't we blessed that we stay whole?  To God be the glory!

If this article inspired you, please leave your comment and VOTE ! I'm nominee # 11 ¡SOY NEGRENSE! Thank you very much.

PEBA 2010: Focus On Strengthening OFW Families

"Earthquakes can't shake us, hurricanes can't break us, cyclones can't take away our love."

Strengthening OFW families as this year's PEBA theme is timely, and an emphatic admission that failed marriages has gotten to the forefront of social cancer maligning an OFW family. The call to strengthen the very basic unit of society is a necessity to underscore the importance of a strong family ties that defines a prosperous nation.

Working abroad to fulfill your dreams for your loved ones is paramount among all OFWs. No man in his right senses would ever leave his family for a job in another country. That used to be the norm but not anymore. As an OFW myself, I would rather be away from my loved ones than we stay together, and die together. Anyway, economic  reason tops our agenda why we leave our family back home. The benefits are just tremendous.  All these benefits however come at a price. And sometimes the price proves too costly. In the end, an OFW may have achieved his dreams economically, but if unfortunate, his family could also fall apart.

The call to strengthen an OFW family may be a noble one. But this effort may sound boring and futile to some who have been in real situations  for a variety of reasons. One may protest, "it is not as easy as  preaching to the transgressors without getting to the bottom of the transgression". Another would say, "before you throw judgment,  fill my shoes, then and only then you could understand why we are in this situation".

Philandering, as the PEBA president announces, is the main culprit why an OFW family crumbles to pieces. Infidelity among married couples knows no dispensation, and is expected to outlive even the strongest brands such as Coke and Microsoft. But does it say of our compatriots' propensities to illicit affairs when away from their spouses? My good judgment is yes. I've seen and known them. Plenty of them. And some readily smarting out their rationale, "life is a gift meant to be enjoyed and shared with" - even if it is the wrong partner. Having said that, I am in no way vilifying the "lonely hearts" brigade, neither I am validating this kind of behavior.

Our family always tops our priority. We persist to exist even at times when we almost refused to - and the reason is them. We at times choose not to narrate our sad stories to keep them from worrying about us. That we subsist on Indomie, and scour for a five-riyal shirt at a flea market in downtown Khobar, or fighting with a Panda Hypermarket cashier who slaps you with a Batook chewing gum, when you actually prefer your fifty-halala change - is beyond them. That says of our sacrifices for them. But sacrifice is only acceptable and valid when made out of good intentions. And we don't think twice to make them repeatedly for their sake. This intention with all its nobility can however go down the cliff when the rope that binds them together snaps.

Every OFW family deserves the sweetest reward of reaping the fruits of their sacrifices. For no amount of material and temporal things will ever equate with the beauty of an intact family. A hefty bank account, a modest house, or the most flashy gadgets play only second fiddle to the glory of having a complete family. Just like our own Charice preaching  in her pyramid analogy, so is the importance of the relationship in the family. "Earthquakes can't shake us, hurricanes can't break us, cyclones can't take away our love", says the song. Comes a mini-Ondoy and everybody drowns, because they forget to take the fridge off their back.

As the OFW family gets the monopoly of the spotlight this year, the well-being of every OFW and his family back home tops the agenda of PEBA. Kudos to the PEBA people  for putting together an endeavor of great substance, especially the PEBA president (Desert Aquaforce), who did a great job in sending his message across that serves as eye-opener. The reality he put forth is too powerful to ignore. Credit also goes to the witty post by Mr. Thoughtskoto  for gently prodding bloggers, to show some support by blogging about the theme, that had me rushing and tapping at my laptop in no time to create a few paragraphs for PEBA theme. Way to go guys! We support and salute you all!

Website: Pinoy Expat/OFW Bloggers' Award 2010 (PEBA)