Sunshine Stories

Isang buwan bago ako nakapag adjust sa buhay dito sa DC. Matagal yun pag iniisip ko kung ilang araw akong kumain sa harap ng computer ko for ten minutes tapos trabaho na ulit. Kasi naman, hindi ko matantsa kung ok lang bang imbitahin ko yung sarili ko sa kanya kanyang lunch break ng mga tao dito. Hindi kasi set na 12 noon lahat maglalabasan o mag-iinit ng baon sa microwave. Eh diba parang nakakahiya naman na feeling close ako sa mga ibang interns kaya ayun medyo nakakalonely yung panahon na yun para sa kin.

Pero naisip ko, pagkatapos ng 30 days, "Ano ba yan!! Nag se-self pity ba ako? Ano bang ini-expect ko, maawa sila sa akin at sila ang pumila sa harap ng office ko para imbitahin akong kumain?" So the following day, sabi ko kay Caitlyn na nasa kabilang kwarto, "Uy invite kita for lunch, ipagluluto kita." Si Caitlyn kasi, she makes it a point to drop by and ask how things are going with what I’m doing. Although I know that she doesnt understand everything that I say, I appreciate the gesture. Tsaka, nasasayahan naman ako magluto so I knew it would make internship more enjoyable fore me.

So I cooked baked salmon with lemon and parsley and bok choi and tofu with oyster sauce for our lunch. I learned how she got to Ashoka and that she takes Spanish classes on Tuesday afternoons for her third language because she’s fluent in French already. 

After that, it became easier to invite others. I cooked bacon and corn soup and garlic bread for Betsy; asked Robert for coffee at Starbucks; and prepared roasted chicken, mixed vegetables and melons for Kila. This week, I’ll be cooking chicken curry for Tyler and Cammie, have coffee with Joe, and lunch of catfish steak, tom yum soup, and bamboo shoots in coconut milk with Sarah. In turn, they also invite me when they eat out at Spice of Life, like during Ruchi’s departure and another time when we all went to watch Tyler’s play in Chinatown.

Naisip ko, I have 17 days left in DC so I have to make the most out o if it. I have to make the effort to make these relationships happen and grow. Hindi pwedeng "nahihiya ako" forever and give excuses to myself. Dios mio diba, walang mangyayari sa kin kung ganun lagi.

Sinabihan na nga ako ni Robert at ni Kila sometime in early July na lumipat ako dun sa malaking office para naman may human interaction ko while my boss was away for her London trip. Kasi kung hindi, ang magiging best friend ko ay yung computer. Although maingay doon at mas mahirap for me to concentrate, I took their advice and stayed there for several days and now I’m back in the loop.

So ngayon, kahit na hindi nila ako kasama gumimik pag gabi sa DC (malayo kasi sa bahay namin), I’m proud to say I’ve cultivated some friends here through lunch invitations. I know one meal does not make a relationship last but I think it’s a sweet way to remind them many years from now that we shared this Ashoka experience during the summer of 2007.

Reading Good magazine’s article on John Hodgman, humorist and ersatz know it all. He’s The Daily Show’s "resident expert".
"I’m not going to humiliate you with my incredibly large brain."
But seriously I agree with him when he said that "telling the unlacquered truth…is far more taboo than the dirtiest joke."

 I Saw a Mountain
We are the shoes, we are the last witnesses.
We are shoes from grandchildren and grandfathers,
From Prague, Paris and Amsterdam,
And because we are only made of fabric and leather
And not of blood and flesh, each one of us avoided the hellfire.



———–

Nung weekend, pumunta ako ng Holocaust Museum dito sa DC kasi sabi ng kaibigan kong si Nicole, maganda daw tsaka nakakaiyak. Akala ko mga 2 oras lang tapos na ako pero dahil napaka comprehensive ng collection nila, 4 na oras bago ako nakalabas. Kakaiba itong museum na to kasi meron silang kasama sa exhibition na sapatos nung mga Holocaust victims. Yun ang pinaka naaalala ko - bundok bundok na lumang  sapatos na pinahubad sa mga tao sa labas ng gas chambers. Ang sabi sa kanila, tandaan daw nila kung saan nila iniwan yung gamit nila kasi mag-shower lang sila sa loob. Pero kunwari lang yun.

Nakakaantig kasi isipin mo, yung sapatos nakaligtas pero yung mga may-ari nun hindi. Yung quoate sa taas ng blog ko, yun ang nakapost sa tabi ng display. Itong mga sapatos na ito ang huling saksi sa mga huling segundo ng buhay ng mga milyong milyong biktima na hindi na lumabas sa mga concentration camp.

Tapos meron din dun sa exhibition nung cart kung san pinagsiksikan yung mga Jews sa loob. Nakakatakot pumasok sa loob. Isipin mo para kayong mga bakang pinagkasya sa isang madilim at masikip na box na wala halos butas. Grabe.

Pagdating ko sa dulo, naiyak ako nung sinabi ng isang survivor, "Sana isipin nyo na yung mga nakikita nyo sa museum ay hindi lang mga simpleng books. Yan ang mga prayerbooks na ginamit ng pamilya namin para magdasal noong araw at ngayon, hindi na namin maiuuwi yan kahit gustong gusto namin.  Hindi ko lang talaga kayang kalimutan lahat ng nangyari. Hindi ko kayang magpatawad. Sana, wag nang maranasan ng mga susunod pang henerasyon ang nangyari sa amin. At sana pag may nakita kayong pangyayari na walang katarungan, wag kayong magsawalang kibo."

at ito yung nakasulat sa poster nila sa isang exhibition room:

First they came for the Socialists, and I didn’t speak up,

because I wasn’t a Socialist.

Then they came for the Trade Unionists, and I didn’t speak up,

because I wasn’t a Trade Unionist.

Then they came for the Jews, and I didn’t speak up,

because I wasn’t a Jew.

Then they came for me, and there was no one left

to speak up for me.