Blog Action Day 2011: Famine Claims Thousands As Tons Of Food Wasted

"Statistics tells of an ominous:  the day will come when many would fight for a single grain, rich and poor alike, the dispensation when money is a non-factor." 

When a tourist or an expatriate worker for the first time lands in any Saudi city, chances are the conspicuous Arabian culture pretty much does not go unnoticed. Tall minarets dotting skylines and at some point juxtaposed with a skyscraper, bustling traditional souks and ubiquitous modern malls greet you with explicit Arabian hospitality. From the unmistakable traditional garb worn by men to his unique driving style (left foot nestled on the dashboard while behind the steering wheel is a common sight in major roads), one can easily make out and understand local customs and behavior. Sea of black-clad shoppers can be seen raiding the malls at night is another peculiarity unique to Saudi women. 

While a lot of positive things come out long in the list, speaking of Saudi uniqueness however, entails a variety of opposing qualities. Let me stick then to the obvious. If one happens to be in Jeddah, one thing that won't escape your eyes is the all-gleaming blue occupant in every street corner that hosts substantial feline population. These poor creatures can be seen fighting one another for a lump of wrapped yellow rice and ribs loosely hanging on the edge of  blue dumpsters. These wasted foods dumped by people come from the excess on their tables. You cringe knowing that thousands of people die in Somalia due to starvation, and here you see foods being abused and disrespected. Some foods they throw are still fresh and look very much edible.

Coming from the word itself of one Saudi mother, she admits that Saudis in general live in a culture of excess, and food is no exception.  Saudis have penchant for holding feasts especially during summer holidays when weddings are preferably held. Along with the massive feasts also come tons of leftover food that they simply dump. People show less concern for the hungry ones around them that wasting food has been ingrained in their culture.

The month of Ramadan is no exception. Okay, everybody knows every able-bodied Muslim adult fast from dawn till dusk (well, they see to it they are pretty well-stuffed before the break of dawn so that feeling hungry during the day does not make sense). Fasting is imperative so as not to 'lose' reward from god. Even most of my colleagues are too terrified a drop of water touches their lips or they risk losing their reward (hence talking with them closer is not advised). The zeal is there to perfect the daily ritual of shunning food and water, but wait till they get to the table when the loudspeaker signals time to break their fast. You don't believe your eyes how   leftovers could still feed a handful and yet  fly straight to the garbage.

Ramadan 2010 actual data: 

* In Dubai, 1,850 tons of food on average are thrown out daily - mostly from large banquets and top-end venues like 5-star hotels. The rich and famous in the emirate demand lavish food served in hotels at Iftar, after which all excess go straight to the garbage as per hotel policy.

* In neighboring Abu Dhabi, 500 tons of food on average are dumped daily. It is not clear whether attempts by various NGOs to raise awareness on food wastage have been successful.

* In Saudi Arabia, no figure or estimate is available due to some press censorship. Anything that comes out unfavorably for the country's image is an outright 'lie'. But consider this: the very media outlet that screams of massive food wastages over in Dubai and Abu Dhabi is a Saudi daily, yet it carries no figure or estimate of the same from its very own.

* Saudi Arabia has one of the highest obesity rates in the world. Local health experts readily blame the culture of over-eating especially in Ramadan, that some even die of high-blood pressure and other related illnesses triggered by eating oily and fatty foods.

Emphasis on Ramadan:  Traditionally, families prepare sumptuous meals and gather for Iftar (breaking the fast) and Suhoor (meal before dawn). As a festival of giving and sharing, Ramadan is centered around on providing bountiful meals so that increased food purchasing is witnessed during the month, making way for more wastage. At mealtime, the habit of piling food on to the plate (in most cases, hunger breeds gluttony), contributes to massive food wastage. Cooking too much food to reward oneself for enduring a day's fast is also an unbeatable habit by many in Ramadan. Anticipating guests to join  Iftar meals also drives them to cook more, to which extent excess food has no more room in the fridge, thus food is wasted.

Putting into perspective, facts laid down are simply comprehensive.  The glaring display of extravagance on food and the resulting food wastages by rich countries is beyond anyone's comprehension, yet across a narrow strip called the Red Sea, piles of dead bodies are strewn everywhere due to famine. Aid organizations do exist in the Gulf region, but they are yet to make an impact proportionate to the region's food wastages. Efforts have been made to minimize food wastages, but without the cooperation of the people, these blah blahs could well turn out to be some vexing advert of epic proportion.

Global impact: Food waste is a real concern of global proportion. Many food products can be classified as biodegradable, but its non-consumption means that precious resources used in its cultivation and production are wasted, such as energy, water and material used for its packing. Carbon emissions resulting from the food's transportation, storage and disposal are also big contributors to climate change.

While thousands die of hunger in many parts of the world, food waste is deemed a serious global issue. Studies indicate that not all rich countries have a hand on this global phenomenon (as this issue is more culture-based). This global concern however is a source of national shame for those countries whose people act irresponsibly, without regard for those dying because of hunger. It is not their fault, yes, but the attitude certainly does show utter defiance to human conscience, that human beings are inclined to show respect and compassion to their kind.

Today marks this year's Blog Action Day and coincides with the celebration of  World Food Day. Apparently, food scarcity is the single most pressing issue that affects many nations on earth. The Horn of Africa for example, is beset with famine due to a prolonged drought that results to hundreds, if not thousands of death every single day. On the other hand, just less than an hour- flight across, rich nations like the UAE, Qatar and Saudi Arabia traditionally compete with each other as to which one gets the crown of having the most number of tons of food wastage on summer holidays and in Ramadan. If tradition is to take the blame, I hope people start to act like humans and practice humanity for the sake of their kind, albeit inferior to their eyes.

If nation or nations preach peace to be their way of life because that is what their religion teaches, then let it practice what it preaches. Let it start by being peaceful with nature - to show respect for all the blessings  nature has given them, and show compassion to those who lack in life. The media and the academe in those  countries should spearhead educational campaign and rally the support of its national and local leaders, thereby gaining a foothold on gradually changing the mindset and practice of its people that are proven irrelevant in the fast-shrinking globalization. Statistics tells of an ominous:  time will come when many would fight for a single grain, rich and poor alike, the dispensation when money is a non-factor - the one  foretold in the Bible as the coming  Awful Horror. Let's hope that everyone stakes his claim to the greater cause of preserving nature, so that food and other necessities in life do not vanish in haste, when climate change has the final say in man's destiny.

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!

A Twin Nightmare Called STC And Mobily

"If you happen to come across a slogan from a 'reputed' firm that says they have conquered the world by their technologies and their services, think again, for there is more to it than meets the eye."

And if you happen to be an expatriate living in Saudi Arabia, and you think your life revolves around the internet, and you're feeling extremely grossed-out by the filthy computers at the nearest cafe compounded by a suffocating cigarette smoke that automatically guarantees you a shorter life span, then take comfort in this: You are not alone.

Understandably, the next natural thing to do would follow. My decision to apply for internet connection however, was a milestone so to speak, considering the would-be hefty monthly bill that for me is equivalent to a house and lot's worth in the province. To a person not easily hyped-up by a barrage of notifications on my facebook, two hours at the internet cafe every other day serves up my cause. The downside however, is walking on foot can be likened to a pilgrimage especially when it's sweaty day. All things considered, I chose Saudi Telecom or STC to be my service provider.

I don't know if rumors were true that these telecom companies are charging up extra amount (or they term it as hidden charges) from their subscribers, but as far as I know my monthly bill should only be 274 saudi riyals (choice package) because we rarely use our telephone for local calls. What puzzles me every time is, in less than two months, STC would send me a text containing my latest bill amounting to more than worth of 2-month consumption, which when you do the math is utterly excessive and questionable. I'm sure about it because I keep track of the time gap between the first and latest text messages they send me. I am also prompt in paying up the bill so there's no reason it would be that astronomical. Though I'm a bit worried, we are two people sharing the  bill so it does not bother me that much.

There was hardly a fuss the past two years over billing schemes I call it, but the past couple of weeks we were shocked one morning when our internet connection had already been cut. There's no way they did it for non-payment because the bill was still zero when I called 906. They had not yet sent the latest bill through text, for me to be punished for not paying up promptly. So when I called up 906, I was told to settle my bill first worth 587sr, for which I was totally unaware of. I am sure I paid the last bill 3 weeks before, so why slap me with another bill for another worth of over two months unconsumed subscription? Is it for real? Have the leeches already mutated into human form, that their bloated bellies extend to the deepest pockets of the hapless expatriates handicapped by their inability to speak the local language?

At any rate, you stand to lose the battle if you think you have every right to scream out injustice. You are at the mercies of these gentle scammers. Without much ado, and blood shooting up, we trooped to the nearest bank and  paid 600sr, 13sr more than the bloodsuckers wanted from us. Yet the agony did not end there. Another yet agonizing episode of pleading to the rogue 906 agent to restore the connection for which it took forever. And one final decision I thought could appease me as my patience completely dried out. Enough of the bloodsucking incompetent rogue entities creating havoc to their willing yet reluctant victims. But before I could brag about the bank invoice I'm waving stipulating a supposed gift of 13sr to further advance their avarice, I was slapped again with a disconnection fee of 300sr after opting to cancel my subscription for good. Shocked in horror of a glaring daylight robbery, still we painfully complied to get STC out of our system.

The Mobily, as their slogan shouts, is reputed to have one of the best GSM technologies in the world. Hmmm. Sounds the answer to our ordeal from our oppressor. Finally there comes a better option.

Leaving no doubts in our mind, we tried to purge ourselves of the skeptics in us as we concurred this could be it. The main office on Tahliya Street looks impressive and orderly, more spacious and in a sense world-class. But think again before you actually hit the first step. As we approached the dispensing machine to take our number, a Saudi staff leaning on the machine, with both hands perched on top of it interrupted us and said "What, what, what?" in a rude manner. Obviously he does not speak  English and that's all  he could muster to  assert his authority. We could have understood him but the stare and manner has racial undertone. If he wanted to inquire of our purpose we could have communicated well with him. But whether you agree or not, obviously there's a horrific double-standard going on here. We could have ranted at him and gave him some lectures about proper conduct in public let alone to a customer, rather we opted to zip our mouths and convinced ourselves of him being an imposing lump of blubber privileged to be called a citizen of this country. 

At the sales desk minutes after our number was called out, the staff seemed oblivious of our presence as he  smilingly continues romancing his cellphone despite my barking at him "good afternoon". Even as we double-checked our appearance, whether we looked like stupid and tattered to convince him that we might have landed in a wrong place, I still cannot comprehend why he appeared to be lethargic and too lazy to talk, except if he had shown some signs of a previous night's bout with diarrhea. The caveman emerged finally, caught up in a situation where he had no choice but to face a waiting client. And if I did not start the conversation, he would have not known that we actually wanted to buy their product. So cold and rude, but quick to grab the 500sr note from my hand as payment for a broadband package we were buying. There was no chance to inquire about the product as he obviously was not interested in queries but the cash piling up in his drawer. Except that he nodded his head when I inquired if it is easy to install.

After the modem got rebooted and configured at their Technical Support counter, we were convinced that our patience paid off. We were advised however that it will take 24 to 36 hours before we could be connected to the internet, to our astonishment. When 36 hours became 5 days and after countless calls to their customer care agents in India even at midnight, the problem remained unresolved. No internet because the network coverage was so poor even though we are located at the heart of the civilization. I wonder how they could brag about their world-class technologies despite the evidence of a long queue of customers, either returning their modems for refund or  re-configuring them endlessly to no avail, when the problem is actually the weak coverage especially if your location is at the ground floor of your building.

The madness just would not end as I almost hit the rope. If I went to return the modem it would be as if I gifted them an early Ramadan present as I wouldn't be taking my money back because refund will only be given within 24 hours from the date of purchase. Though they will eloquently educate you of their 24-hour return policy, they will also shamelessly announce to your face that you will get your connection after a period of 24-36 hours which in my case reached up to seven days still without connection. 

Luckily for us, somebody in my area who happens to live on a rooftop bought that piece of crap named Mobily broadband modem but for a much lower price. This is just basics. The glaring misinformation and unprofessional staff all the more aggravated to the headache of those who returned their modems. Not only  twelve or thirteen of us that morning complained, there were many, mostly furious. I mean if this scenario occurs everyday, did it not dawn on them that customers feel cheated and dissatisfied?

If the Mobily people were only keen and professional enough to advise prospective customers that their broadband services only cater to those living close to the skies, there would have been no problems like this. But of course, not every dissatisfied customer will have the balls to confront the scammers, some would actually opt to throw the shit-ly modems away than wasting precious time waiting their numbers to be called out only to confront the staff and get hypertensive. They would however appease you by sending you an SMS informing you that your complaint will be taken cared of within 24 hours yet again - an SOP invariably used to shun an upset customer away.

With the juggernaut stature that they are, both STC and Mobily don't have to fret about the enormous complaints from customers reaching their tables.  If you think their bad services can cause a customer backlash, think again, these humongous Telecom companies in Saudi Arabia have the stranglehold of virtually the entire telecommunication business in the kingdom. And if you think you cannot live another day without checking the notifications in your facebook, then you have to swallow sheepishly the harsh reality confronting your sanity - accept that applying for internet connection is a process fraught with anxiety - re you're being cheated on your bills and on the services you are buying, and making your case means putting on an armor of virtues when dealing with a bunch of slackers that feel pestered when a 'second-class' human being approaches their table.

Truth be told, whining over institutionalized garbage brings no impact or benefit, I should understand by then. This is Saudi Arabia, I should know. And if you happen to come across a slogan from a 'reputed' firm that says they have conquered the world by their technologies, think again, for there is more to it than meets the eye. Or better yet, live with it if you have no choice. Guess what? I do!

New Rules For Hiring Maids: Take It Or Leave It

"If the Philippines can pioneer  unshackling this evil bondage through its very own, the world will be on its feet, then other third-world countries will likely follow suit."

It is as easy as one plus one - if you cannot protect your guest workers then do not invite them to come over. The same is said of the Saudi government's seemingly desperate attempt to get Philippine counterpart to have a change of heart towards the latter's stance on the hiring of Filipino domestic helpers. This early, the Philippine government has stiffened its conditions set on hiring of domestic helpers - which the Saudi government finds absurd - because the prerequisites set by the labor-exporting country do not conform to the whims of the indolent and masochistic culture existent in the Saudi society.

In order for a Saudi family to acquire rights to hire a Filipina domestic helper, the Philippine government sets forth the following criteria:  The basic salary of the worker should be pegged at SR.1,500 - lower than that is deemed illegal and unacceptable. The head of the family should have at least a monthly basic salary of SR.9,000. - to ensure he is capable of paying his 'servant' (the term they label their household helper). And the prospective employer should attach a detailed map of his residence, for easy access of their whereabouts should an abuse is committed against their worker. If you see, the rules constitute protection of the worker but what the Saudi government fears about is that - its citizens are not yet ready to be bound by such rules.

Obviously if the Philippine government holds firm to its stake, the rampant abuses of Filipino domestic helpers in Saudi Arabia will be a thing of the past. And that is what their Saudi counterpart is keen to neutralize - in their favor. If this is the best way to teach Saudis a lesson - moral and diplomatic that is - then the Philippine government should remain firm to its advocacy.

If human rights wathcdogs will have their say,  Saudi Arabia will always be classified as a dangerous country for unskilled workers where there is no assurance of protection given to them . Most of them are household workers who exist at the mercies of their employers. Countless of documented and undocumented cases of abuses happen everyday in all corners of this country. They're lucky if they get to find way to escape from their abusive employers. Some of them have also found their ends here. Scores or sometimes hundreds of these distressed workers crowd temporary shelters inside Consulate in Jeddah and embassy in Riyadh awaiting months or years before being repatriated. And the bad news is - government's fund is slowly drying up for the cost of their subsistence and repatriation.

Acting the role of 'good and desirable' hosts, the Saudi government is not slow to sweet-lemonize the standoff between two governments saying there are domestic helpers from other countries waiting in large numbers offering their services to their nationals. There you go! If so, why bother to get Philippine officials to a dialogue hoping the rules set by them could be bent in mutual favor? The truth is, simple and fair the rules may sound, yet they are not willing to comply with it because they cannot guarantee the safety and protection of the worker inside a Saudi household.

How servants are being treated by them? In most instances, a servant is being enslaved by the whole clan. Her 24-hour day to day existence is offered to her masters. She is on-call even at the most unlikely of hours. She does not take offdays. After she finishes her work in her master's house, she is also being offfered  to serve in another house with the consent of her master. If she is thought to be pretty, she will be locked up in the bathroom by the wife before the husband comes. She could even end up a sex-slave by her male masters. If her masters are also monsters she could get a battering everyday. Even kids join the orgy by showering her with their spittle. ( I don't stereotype all Saudis, but my over a decade of stay in Saudi Arabia could attest to real stories of this kind, they're aplenty you would regret arguing with me.)

If the Philippine government plays its card smartly, I don't think this development is a bane to overseas employment for our household workers. Given that Filipinos are still the most preferred household workers for obvious reasons, good Saudis with penchant for quality skills possessed by Filipinos will be unperturbed by the rules. But those majority that raises the alarm are those inclined to be abusive, financially constraint and wanting  only to 'possess' a slave to flaunt to their ilks. If they cannot afford to give decent pay to their 'slaves' then it's about time that they move their asses off and wake up from their couch and start to declog their arteries because 'owning' a slave comes with responsibilities...and risks.

The astronomical cases of abuses to domestic helpers in general across the Arabian peninsula has been at the forefront of human rights groups' agenda all over the world. Various media and independent entities have documented the atrocities done to these poor individuals and how abusive employers get the luxuries of not being prosecuted for their crimes. From Lebanon and Jordan to Kuwait, Saudi Arabia and the UAE, records of abuses and deaths are dizzying that calls to end this modern-day slavery are mounting. If the Philippines can pioneer  unshackling this evil bondage through its very own, the world will be on its feet, then other third-world countries will likely follow suit. And if this trade persists to exist, it is because better reforms have been put in place. Now I put my stake on the strength of the Philippines' stand. If they stay firm (which I still beg to doubt), then it's about time to bid abusers goodbye, or one more time, "take it or leave it"!

Jason And Rischel's Eid Wedding In Obhur!

"There could be no better timing than holding it on the first day of Eid, when every soul is animated by the partying genes in them."

They say you don't reside in Jeddah if nary you've been to Obhur. Down to the advent of  genetic age, the right pronunciation remains debatable. Some say it is Abhur, but who cares anyway? The place is far from being abhorrent. It is famous for its long stretch of beaches and dotting private resorts that cater to exclusive parties and any kind of gatherings. Jeddah has been my abode for almost a tenth of the century, but never had I ventured  the place once. Well, the trend has seen its era broken  last Thursday. Not a coincidence, it was a wedding reception for one of our classmates at TCI. There could be no better timing than holding it on the first day of Eid, when every soul is animated by the partying genes in it.

Rischel the bride is one of our classmates at TCI. Her better-half is Jason. The couple finally had their moment after five years. The wedding reception was fabulous and well-organized. The venue was huge for a party, complete with rooms for 'special guests'. The dancefloor was more than enough  to handle loads of prowling party-hungry guests.

All my TCI classmates were invited, but only a handful came. The seven who got to attend were incidentally the most talented from the class (lol!) except for this one who doesn't glamorize squirming on the dance floor. ( Sorry absentees, you didn't get to show off your wares and so the talent-less label.) We consequently missed out on the program emceed by one of our classmates as an incentive for arriving late. First off, the wedded couple danced, paying tribute to tradition as guests and friends scrambled to steal the limelight, dear notes fluttering their way into the couples' dainty outfits. ( Not a bad idea though to defray a recession-plagued wedding outgoes.  I'm grabbing an FB pic of Benjie, a classmate donning a note on the couple; I'm just damn curious about the color,  he purposely had it taken blurrily, hmmm :-))

Blame it on the Saudi norm, the sight of men and women gyrating as if there's no tomorrow provided a bit of a shocker to me. I've never seen for the longest time men and women mopping around the floor together in an intensely libidinal passion. Normally, you don't get to see women disrobed  in a public place. And here you see order is restored. So, it was a real party atmosphere in every sense of the word. Disco lights elevated the reveling moods interrupted only by an occasional trip to the buffet table to refuel. Foods were sumptuous. Desserts were in abundance. If you came flauntingly in your scanty belly, well think again. You did not come to deprive yourself of the heavenly, after a month of conforming to the adoptive 'dawn till dusk' rituals. It would be a huge anomaly not indulging in as much as your tank can hold up. [Hey, before the glutton label comes up, we were discreetly refined! (bawi agad).]

What made us TCI students even more at home (apart from the food), the couple had assigned one private room exclusively for us. The room was spacious with three beds and the ambience was relaxing. Some unsuspecting guests did attempt a blind invasion, as many crammed through the aisles but were promptly fended off by the boldly-printed warning - FOR Total Care International Students Only. Understandably, guests came in multitudes that after a merciless ambush of the buffet table, they came in scrambling poaching for nests to 'de-stress'.

Fronting our  room was the singers' lounge. Those with vocal pipes to flaunt, get to show off their homesick-driven talents, and the 'wailing' souls did not appear to tire till the sun started to grumble. I had to be content with video-recording the exploits of my classmates of whom three are legitimate singers ( yes, they can carry a tune hence the label 'singers', joke only folks :-))  Khrisnan the humongous bundle of talent, (literally) wiped the crowd off their feet with his Mariah-ness belting prowess. Jhun, the 'kuya' of the group revved up the night with his flamboyant  rendition of big ballads. And Jay, whose singing style is more current crooned us with his mastery of America's materials. And one big revelation, Gerry got to wow us with the remnant of Comaneci's influence in him. :-)  It was no botched Swan Lake choreography, he just owned it, and the night too. That was very funny of him. He really stole the show!  Best buddies Emil and Benjie were the most camera-savvy. They were all over the lens, and inseparable too.

Time to grow fins and scales. It's splash time! The pool was rather suppressed and narrow, but enough to drown a dumb duck. It was less busy by then. The water was lukewarm. And photo ops too for those least concerned of their extra baggage! That's why some refused to shed their tops including me ha ha! Well, if it's public, anything of the ridiculous does not help one's self-esteem. Oh wait, perhaps that answers the riddle why Khrisnan refused to dip his integuments in the pool? (joke) Then customer traffic slightly became congested and so the group settled on the shallow part. Unable to hold lesson review as earlier planned, Jhun our group leader who happened to be a college lecturer randomly picked questions to throw at us. As expected, I did not answer anything. No time yet to browse my notes. I still maintain my penchant for cramming on the dead hours. Don't know why. :-) '

'Twas around eight or past when we decided our energies already drained in the pool. After rinsing, the group simultaneously suffered a post-bath syndrome. The remedy? A last trip to the buffet table where only cakes and sweets survived the gory frenzy earlier. The only suitable edible left was the 'papaitan' that tasted so good; the secret maybe is hidden  not on the condiments but from its oily soup that could drown your heart with fats. But then again, nothing is spared when you  too are in a frenzy to stuff your rioting parts. Sounds gruesome? Not at all, we still handled it with finesse befitting a guest. :-)

Time to pack up. Eyes turned anomalous red. The venue looked as though it just survived a great commotion. And there's not much we can do. Perched at the aisle leading to the door, Jason said his thank you's as we bade him. He has a kind heart. But the bride was nowhere to be found. She had to disappear early to report for duty, I heard. So, no reprieve for the chaos of the day at least to rest on her wedding day? Truly, Rischel is one strong pragmatic woman. Hats off to both of them.

As our tiny car can only seat five people (I mean leaner ones), I don't know how Khrisnan and Jhun managed to keep up with lean Gerry. Off to the winding Corniche road, we spotted yet again perfect photo material and raced towards it for pictorials. And down the steep-walled rocky beach, we ventured dipping and photo ops again! It's no longer fun when the sun threatens to burn your epidermis, and so home is the next thing in mind. One by one we dropped our loads to the delight of our tiny toy. Gerry was quick to get down to check his FB status ( I found out later). Khrisnan wasn't already talking when we dropped him, he could have fallen asleep by the alley, I'm afraid. Jhun was doubting if he would still be facebooking or not. And just yesterday, Benjie's shoutout was not cool, something scary happened to them on their way home? Will try to find out on Friday. On the positive, everyone had a blast. Food and fun, adventure and bonding moments, and another few days left before the holiday ends. Eid Mubarak to all!

Watch the video HERE!

Getting Through The Stress Of Ramadan

"If there's a season to be jolly, it is when temperature's soaring, and days restrained for sobriety and night in  utmost   revelry."

It is no sign of great famine ahead. The swarm of people jostling their way out of the cash counter at every supermarket is no sight of wonderment. These are people over-buying and over-stocking in over excitement for the Ramadan season. This has been the scenario all over Jeddah even prior to the commencement of the Holy Month (and I guess all over the Muslim world). As we all know, Ramadan is the most exciting month in the Islamic calendar in terms of tradition and degree of celebration.  It is the month when Muslims fast from dusk till dawn.  It is also the best time of the year for those who want to do good deeds and give alms to the needy because the 'merits or rewards' are  more than ten times when you do them in Ramadan, say their teachings.

On my nth Ramadan spent here in the Gulf, I've been accustomed to the level of importance this season brings to all. The extreme heat and humidity of summer  will guarantee no excuse to those who are determined to complete their vows or risk (forfeiting) the merits and rewards. You will not be spared from experiencing an air of solemnity and 'holiness' even at work. On several occasions, I've been asked by some of our Arabic staff whether I do fast or not. When I replied, I do not, the stare would be too unforgiving as though I deserved hanging for a crime against humanity. In the instance that I say I do, I would almost be complimented with a hug. Bizarre? Not at all, it's just a matter of getting used to it.

In the Mideast, Ramadan is marked by a tradition of  festivities. The mood becomes vibrant at night when hordes of people throng the malls, supermarkets, and gold souks. It is a tradition of ditching older possessions for new ones such as clothes, gadgets, furnitures or even kitchen wares. Study shows expenditures by every household even on non-essentials sometimes is incongruous with the family's income. And that  leaves one in awe at the sheer extravagance in spending habits by the locals. Those who've been doing it all their lives have it all figured out and know tradition can sometimes become a liability. The jolly mood of Ramadan gradually turns to a nightmare for some, when loansharks start to signal payback time at astronomical gains.

Speaking of shopping indulgence that consumes most of Ramadan activities,  them that are perennial  mall habitues don't seem to find solace with little to carry that some just freak out  when told of  'sizes sold out'. I remember Ramadan 2006 in one of our stores in Jeddah, when two lady customers had almost settled the score on the floor for a last piece find. Some could be too petty and get provoked easily. Others readily spew a mouthful. It's really odd how a rapacious shopper  mercilessly rummages through the well-arranged  clothes and leaving trails of destruction. Still our duty entails a spine-ful of floor recovery of the falling-and-trampled-over items, left at the wake of voracious black-clad invaders. A sip of water foregone, throats dried up, not letting up the energy as swarm of customers fill every space. The very scenario of sheer chaos especially in the last two weeks of Ramadan already terrifies me.  Good thing is, little daunting this season may be, but a little reward too can be somewhat appeasing when our boss gives out his Zakat to us employees.

To us workers in retail sector, Ramadan season poses a minor challenge to our patience and also our health. A day would come without respite from truckloads of delivery that could potentially break your spine, aggravated by the slow-motion work mode by our colleagues, who would banner their cause in your face - that of them solemnly fasting. That used to be the generally accepted rationale and so who the heck am I to cast doubt on the 'logic'? But not until this moron was able to smart out some decent argument that provided him a bit of relief. "How one goes hungry when at the break of dawn he had his fill as if there is no more tomorrow?" (This was a subtle joke laughed at by sheepish subordinates that was taken to be funny.) I couldn't care less though getting little respite from the month-long stressful and fatiguingly workload of Ramadan.

Another struggle is how to be sensitive and at the same time respectful of their culture. Learning some tricks (though instinctively) can help too. I'm a bit loath to do a narration of the ugly and stinky, but experience-wise they are no hyperbole springing up from nowhere;  yes,  literally they can be felt and serves as a test of one's olfactoric stamina. Understandably, I am privy to the wake-up boycott of gargling and  freshing up of some oral cavity by our staff, (the dusk till dawn principle also applies), and so it is best to avoid unnecessary conversations; that might mean I'm being a snob, but trust me on this one. Not that I'm being mean;  just trying to beat the oddities of the day till order is restored :-)

For the pleasure of finding productive outlet from the routinary draining cycle of work and home, I had recently enrolled in a training program every Friday which is my off-day. Tons of study materials are yet to be browsed from the net. Thursdays would still  be inadequate. All I knew was, the goals I had were sketchy, whether I am into this seriously, or just for killing the time that already proved oppressive to both my health and pocket :-) But I always had my instinct to rely on, I'm pursuing it and no turning back. I think there are a pack of reasons  to get motivated to. I just hope this Ramadan, I won't be called to travel outside of Jeddah and miss my class. A little bit  nervous for the Basic Life Support exams next week at King Fahad Armed Forces Hospital. Fingers crossed, I hope and pray, this Ramadan ends on a positive note. Inshallah!

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.