Sycamore Tree

Yesterday, at four in the afternoon, Bradford Church held its first Contemporary Worship Service. It was filled with upbeat songs of praise and worship. Kuya Dave gave a testimony. Pastor Haniel gave a message. And everybody was blessed and filled with joy.

It was a very wonderful experience, one that lifts your heart from some unfathomable depths of sorrow and darkness.

Pastor Haniel’s message was about Zaccheus – a common yet beautiful story of how a man, through faith, was changed. And he presented the story such as I have never heard it before.

There is one part of the message that got me pondering even after the service (This will be another long entry if I retell the whole message). The story, as told in the Bible, says that Zaccheus climbed up a sycamore tree. He did this in order to see Jesus – just to see Him from a distance. He may have thought that seeing Jesus would be enough for him. But Jesus stopped by the tree and said, “Zaccheus, come down, for I am going to stay at your house today.”

This tells us of two things. One is that Jesus knows you and me by name, as He knew Zaccheus by name. The other is that He doesn’t want us to see Him from afar, He wants to be with us no matter who we are, no matter how sinful we are (Zaccheus was the chief tax collector, which is almost tantamount to saying he was the chief of cheaters, thieves and sinners, remember?).

After hearing the message, I contemplated on my life and looked at it through the Zaccheus’ eyes. I realized that I too have climbed up my sycamore tree. I have stayed in my comfort zones and have been contented with seeing Jesus, our Lord and Savior, from afar. And I have stayed up there for quite some time already that I think my sycamore tree has grown taller and it’s gotten harder for me to climb down and be with Him.

I now ask God, in prayer, for more courage and strength to climb down and be closer to my Savior.

P.S.

Bradford Church Contemporary Worship Service happens every Sunday at four in the afternoon. Come and join us. Bring a friend. Be blessed and be a blessing.

On Gender Discrimination

I am currently looking for a new room to rent. My current room is a nice and cozy place. But I have to move for very important reasons.

One Saturday, on my way to the work, I passed by a gate with a signage that says “Room for Rent.” I told myself, “This is perfect. This place is only about two and a half kilometers away from the office.” So I asked someone who was near the gate about the rooms. She said she can’t help me much about it. She asked me to enter the gate so I can talk to the owner of the place.

The front yard of the house is a bit messy. And the house itself is barely fair in condition.

When I was about to enter the house, I saw the owner. It was an old lady. However, when she saw who it was that was inquiring about the rooms, she told me outright that she does not accept males. That would have been fine and I would not have posted this entry in my blog, but she went on to say “I don’t accept males because I don’t have the strength to run in case a fight (or a brawl) breaks.”

Those words clearly illustrates that gender discrimination is not only against women as what most people think. Men (males) are victims as well.

Late last year, a good friend of mine – Anthonny, was looking for a room or apartment to rent. He searched almost everywhere in the city and was often times met with signages that say: “Rooms for Rent. Ladies Only” or ”We Accept Lady Lodgers” and others of similar contents. Out of his frustrations, he jokingly asked me, “Asa nalang man diay tang mga laki puyo ani, bro?”

Funny, but it is quite a serious problem.

I remember a class I had in ICU with Prof. Wasilewski (I hope I spelled it correctly). She is an anthropologist (I think. Maybe a psychologist or both). She presented a case in class. It was about Black American siblings. The sister was very successful. The brother on the other hand was almost a bum. Prof. Wasilewski then asked the class “Why do you think this is so?”

The class was lost. We all thought the question came out too soon. We felt we needed to hear of the underlying factors which led to the situation. But the professor said she had presented everything for us to answer the question.

When she figured out how lost the class was, she threw a few questions. They were to help us answer the previous one and she addressed them especially to the ladies in class. She said “If you are alone in an alley at night and a Black American woman comes your way, how would you feel?” There was a brief silence in the classroom when Prof. Wasilewski continued to ask, “But how would you feel if it was a Black American man (male) coming your way?

The answer to the first question became clear to us all. It was gender. Gender was the one factor as to why the brother has not even come close to what the sister has achieved.

Now, do you still think only women are discriminated?

the shutterbug in me

A couple of weeks ago, the Bradford CYAF (Christian Young Adults' Fellowship) went to Ocean Bay Resort in Dalaguete, south of Cebu City. It was supposed to be an official retreat and planning activity. But due to some technical problems which I would not discuss here, it turned out to be a rather expensive outing for the group.

Well, I took the chance to practice a few skills on photography. Using a borrowed digital camera, I made a subject out of my girlfriend. She herself wants to pose, so we have a mutual bond somehow. This is one of the pictures I took of her. I call it "Morning Perch."

getting rid of problems

This morning, before going to the office, I removed from the front tire of my motorcycle a piece of wire. It was shaped like an S or a Z. Apparently, it did not puncture the interior tire. But I realized it was this wire that was making ticking sounds for the past few days.

After removing the wire, I looked at it and said to myself "Well, problem solved. No more irritating ticking sound this time." Then I carelessly threw on the path way.

I got on my bike and then sped off to the office. After running about eight kilometers, I felt something fishy about the way my bike runs. I figured it's a flat tire. I checked the front tire thinking I may be wrong and it got punctured after all. But it was not. So I continued driving but there is still something funny about the bike.

It was then that I learned that my rear tire was flat. So I drove about a hundred meters to the nearest vulcanizing shop. It was the same shop where I had my rear tire replaced a few weeks back.

There I learned what had caused my flat tire. It was a piece of wire shaped like an S or a Z. And I had a strong feeling it was the same wire I removed from my front tire and carelessly threw on the path way.

The lesson of the story? When you get rid of a problem, be sure it doesn't come back. Because when it does, it does more damage.

KEIKEN Series 02: Before Departing

Before I left for Japan, I only had one airplane experience. It was when my family and I traveled from Manila to Cagayan de Oro in the summer of 1999. It was thrilling enough for me to know that my second travel by air was international.

If my memory serves me right, I, together with my parents and my brother, left Jimenez, my hometown, on August 30, 2002 for Cebu City. It was there that I was to take a plane to NaritaInternational Airport in Japan. We however had to change planes in NAIA in Manila.

In Cebu, as we had more than a day to spare. We bought some stuff that I would need in Japan, and toured around the city. I also bought stuff like key chains and paper weights with Filipino themes and styles which I planned to give to friends that I would make.

I and my family also spent some time with my godsisters and their (and my) friends. They were the ones who helped me around the city when I processed my Student Visa some months back. We all went to the mountain resort called The Top from where you can see the city and its glittering night lights. We just hanged out and talked there.

That was on a Saturday night and I was to leave the country in two days. Realizing that I would be away for the next ten months, I started to strike conversations with those who were with me.

The only scene that night that is still vivid in my memory is a conversation I had with Dianne – one of my godsisters and an ex-girlfriend (well, we were young and things did not go quite well). Her favorite song was (and maybe still is) “It Might be You” by Stephan Bishop. With all the courage I could muster, I asked her what her favorite line was in her favorite song. She said she would like to keep it to herself and said sorry. I did not have the guts to tell her what my favorite part of the song was. It was: “… wishing there would be someone waiting home for me… and I’m feeling that it might be you…”

Since then I have been wondering how things might have been if I had told her.

The next day, I and my family went to church at Bradford UCCI. She was also there attending the service. I can’t remember what the sermon was all about or delivered it. All I remembered that day was that she looked lovely in her red dress (although months later, when I told her that I was going to tell her that day that she looked lovely in her red dress, I said she does not have a red dress)

Monday, the 2^nd of September 2002, the day of my departure, came. I woke up early and prepared myself and my things. My family sent me off to the airport in Mactan around noon time. It was there that we said our good byes.

KEIKEN Series 01: The How and the Why

People who know I have been to Japan also know the reason why I was there. And since not so many people know of my little adventure, it is just proper that I start retelling my story with the how and the why I had the chance to go.

Silliman University, the school where I got my degree in Civil Engineering from, has close ties with other Christian Institutions around the globe. One of these is International Christian University (ICU) in Mitaka, Tokyo, Japan.

ICU is not the only school in Japan that Silliman has close relationships with though. Silliman also has good ties with Ferris University – a women’s university in Yokohama.

Our school has a Foreign Exchange Student Program with these two schools. Every year, Silliman sends four students, usually sophomores (incoming juniors), two apiece, to the schools in Japan. This privilege is given to above-average students with at least 3.0 Qualitative Point Average (QPA). The other requirements include an application letter and an endorsement from the college dean. There is a catch though. Going for the program may delay one’s studies for about a year.

In my class, there were two of us who were interested – Charlie and me. We were both qualified. It was just a matter of submitting the other requirements on time.

Unfortunately, there was an interview for all applicants which Charlie and I knew nothing of. Not that we are afraid of interviews. It’s just that we knew about it in the nick of time.

If my memory serves me right (I have a feeling that I will be using this phrase quite often in the Keiken Series… Hehehe…), the interview was on a Thursday afternoon in January 2002. It was scheduled at 1:00pm in the Cafeteria sky room. And I only learned about it on the same day, at about eleven in the morning. So I rushed to my dormitory, ate my lunch and prepared myself for the interview.

The cafeteria is only about 150 meters from my dormitory, so I arrived quite early. I called (both of us did not have mobile phones yet at that time) Charlie to ask if she was aware of the interview. It was then that I learned that she was in fact unaware of it. She said she won’t bother hurrying up to catch up with the interview and wished me good luck. I felt sorry for her. I knew she wanted to be in the program as much as I did. I also felt guilty. Why didn’t I call her earlier? (This question has bugged me for quite some time even when I was already in Japan)

I was the first applicant to arrive in the Cafeteria sky room. The interviewers told me to wait for a while. After some time, the other applicants came one by one (or in pairs perhaps but I paid them no mind).

I was interviewed first. I don’t remember much of it but there is one question I will never forget. Referring to my involvements in organizations and activities in the university, one of the interviewers (I think it was Ate Eli) asked me, “You seem to be enjoying your life here in Silliman, why do you want to leave?” I really can’t recall my answer but apparently, they were impressed.

A few days after the interview, I learned that my prayers and efforts paid off – I was one of two who will be sent to ICU. I was so happy back then. The idea of studying in a foreign country for free (I did not know about the 80,000 yen monthly stipend until some time later) was just too happy and exciting a thought for me.

By the way, my parents did not know any of this until they came to my university a couple of weeks later to attend my Honors Day (which was about the same time as my 18th birthday). They were supportive of me as ever, so it was all good.

As soon as the semester ended (in March of the same year), I started gathering documents for my passport and visa. When June came, I did not enroll in Silliman. My air ticket was dated September 2, 2002 – Cebu-Manila-Narita.

KEIKEN Series 00: Tanjou (The Birth)

A few weeks ago, as I was paying some friends a visit, I mentioned in one of our conversations something about my experience in Japan. Then Koren said, “We never really had the chance to talk about your Japan experience, Paul noh?”

She was right. I have been wanting to tell people about my wonderful, almost surreal, experience in The Land of the Rising Sun, but never got the chance to. Well, I could name a few circumstances that kept me from telling my story, but there is not one that I can put the blame on.

So I came up with “Keiken.” It is a series of posts in my blog that recounts my experiences in Japan. Keiken is the Nihongo (Japanese) for experience. I actually had to search online for this word. My below-average Nihongo has deteriorated since I have nothing and nobody to practice it with on a regular basis.

I only stayed in the country cherry blossoms for about ten months. But the experience I had is worth a lifetime.