Mommy talk

I have talked to many mothers in remote barangays. Mothers as young as 15 and as old as our dear Lola's.
I have talked to them about how breast milk is best for their babies; why they need to see the midwife at least four times when pregnant; why it is safer to give birth at a health facility.

I have talked to them about the number of children they have or wish they have. I have talked to them about their eldest child and their youngest one. And those in between.

I have talked to them about how best to take care of their health. How best to take care of their children's health. How best to take care of their family's health.

In the past year, I have talked to these women about family planning.

In Tarlac, I met an Aeta mother, Nanay Carolina, in her 50s. She is a barangay health worker.

When I asked about how many children she has, she said "Nine!" Her eldest is 35 and her youngest is 12. She was proud and told me how all her children grew up well. When asked what she meant, she said her children are upright and good. All of them had gone to elementary school. But not one completed grade 6. She hopes her youngest does.

Most of her children are married now. When asked how many grandchildren she has with each of her child, she said the most is two. "I talked to them about family planning," she said in Filipino.

"Had I known before what I know now about how to plan a family, I would have planned my own."

"My husband and I did our best to raise our children but it had been very difficult. We remain poor up to this day."

If she were to talk to other couples about family planning, how would she convince them? "I would tell them about my story. I would tell them how it broke my heart to see my children hungry and sharing what little food we had. I would tell them that planning a family can help them escape poverty. The fewer children they have, even the most meager resources would seem enough to live a comfortable, healthy life."

I was speechless. I was there to talk to women about what they know of family planning. I was there not to lecture about family planning. But there she was, a tiny Aeta woman --- weaving answers to my questions, unaided, unguarded. She talked about being poor, being healthy, and planning a family, all in one breath.

And priests everyday talk about how population and poverty have no co-relation at all with reproductive health. They claim that RH is really about abortion.

I have talked to many mothers in remote barangays. Mothers as young as 15 and as old as our Lola's. I have talked to them about how breast milk is best for their babies; why they need to see a midwife at least four times when pregnant; why it is safer to give birth at a health facility.

I have talked to them about the number of children they have or wish they have. I have talked to them about their eldest child and their youngest. And those in between.

I have talked to them about how best to take care of their health. How best to take care of their children's health. How best to take care of their family's health.

To my mind, all these talks are about reproductive health. And not once did I ever talk to women about abortion.

P.S. I don't have any marital problem.

Time-out

Heaven is now two years and nine months old. His communication skills are said to be advanced for his age. He speaks in complete sentences and with the right tenses.

"Tay, may itatanong ako sa iyo." or "I have an idea." or "Lola, pinagalitan ako ni Tatay." or "Nag-wo-work si Nanay."

Sometimes, I forget that he is only two. That when he throws a fit I catch myself chastising him as if he is already of age.

Terrible two. Yep. We've heard about this dreaded stage a lot from friends and relatives.

Heaven's terrible two tantrums can get, well, really terrible. He hits. He kicks. He grunts. He orders me to stay away from him. "Doon ka sa door." "Outside ka!" Thankfully, he hasn't gone public and made a scene---wailing, arms flailing.

Today, we had a small fight about what Blue's Clues episode he would watch. He balled his fist and threatened me with a 1-2-3. He tried to kick my in my shin. He growled at me. He threw a book at me. And of course he cried.

I usually have two solutions for situations like this. Diversion or time-out. But it's difficult to do diversionary tactics when Heaven is already crying.

So I let him cry and called for a time-out. Our time-out is Heaven being left on his own and me keeping a safe distance away from him. This time-out lasted 10 minutes. He cried for real the first few minutes. But the next part was what I call the drama howl. Just pure waaaahhhh without the painful emotion.

I wanted to reason out with him but I knew that wouldn't work. So I just let him cry. Then like the prodigal son he was, he ran to me still crying and said: "Sorry Tatay!" He cried his heart out again. For real. And in between his sniffs and snuffles, I told him there was no need to get angry at Tatay had he just waited for Tatay to find the Blue's Clues episode he wanted to watch.

We ended up watching Bob the Builder instead. Shall I expect him to behave like an obedient angel the next time? Nope. Despite his winsome vocabulary, Heaven is still two. He is stilled ruled by emotions, not by logic yet. But come to think of it, a lot of us have not yet outgrown our own terrible two's.

The journey of Lakbay Buhay Kalusugan

Less than a year ago, I left UNICEF and became part of the HealthPRO family. It was a move that was both exciting and unsettling. But when I learnt that I would be working with long-time partners like Probe Media Foundation and friends from the arts circle like Eyna Villar and Lakan Bunyi, I quickly adjusted to this new work environment.

It was May 2010 when we started dreaming about Lakbay Buhay Kalusugan (LBK), our response to the request of the Department of Health for a unique health promotion campaign. A 20-page proposal was drafted and revised many times. A "slice-of-life" illustration was drawn by a young artist, depicting what LBK would look like. A 15-slide Powerpoint presentation was turned into a winning Prezi presentation. The Prezi sealed the deal and LBK got the nod from the powers-that-be. A scale model or diorama was designed to sell the concept.

But to make LBK work, we needed a bus. We sent proposals to prospective sponsors. There were no takers at first. But when we met with Victory Liner, the stars conspired and LBK was set in motion. Victory Liner said yes in a heartbeat. We got our bus! Private sector and media partners came knocking one after the other.

In December, we had a motley group of supporters who believed in the project. In January 2011, we saw our bus, a second-hand model tagged as Bus #1804. In February, we had it disassembled and refurbished into a mobile clinic. And fresh from the factory, the bus rolled into Barangay Sta. Juliana, Capas, Tarlac for its maiden voyage --- bringing information and services to 358 Aeta fmilies, approximately 1,092 men and women, including 119 pregnant women, and over 300 boys and girls.

It took a crew of about 150 doctors, midwives, nurses, barangay health workers, local officials, drivers, community volunteers, soldiers, and artists to make LBK happen in Tarlac. But all the hard work paid off.

In between, we managed to stage an interactive health exhibit, and produce a catchy campaign song, radio spots, videoke songs, and video segments. The communication package is yet to be completed but there is time to get all these under wraps before the next LBK trip.

We saw, that despite the meager resources, we managed to bring smiles to the faces of children, men, and women. We hoped that we were indeed successful in making health fun and health information memorable.

Purists will ask for a scientific assessment. We will do that. But let not indicators dampen the unique experience the LBK gave us.

The best indicator of success that we heard so far came from Dr. Jeanette Lazatin, the assistant provincial health officer, who called the shots in Tarlac. "LBK is not just yours, it is ours," she said. When a local health official embraces LBK the way Dr. Lazatin did, we know that LBK truly is a journey worth taking.

And this journey has just started.

Care Divas: We care for these divas

It has been almost 3 years since I last saw a PETA play. Coming back to the PETA Theater Center to watch Care Divas and root for old friends brings me a sense of pride. It is this pride that I wish to share with my wife, Aires (who knows almost nil about my PETA days), and with Heaven in the years to come.

Seeing Melvin, Buddy, Dudz, Vince, Tita CB and the rest of the cast perform made me proud that I was molded the PETA way. Hats off to Liza Magoo for a brilliant script, to Vince for songs that make you laugh and weep, and to Tita Maribel for a superb direction.

Care Divas is about a group of caregivers in Israel who just happen to be all gays. During the day, they dutifully perform their roles as medical attendants to sick old people. At night, they don the most outrageuos costumes and perform as the musical group, the Nightingales, whose ultimate dream is to land a stint in a big club in Tel Aviv. Amidst sporadic bombings and under the watchful eye of immigration police, the caregivers move from one employer to another, for others with luck, for most without luck --- spurred by a common dream of helping the families they left behind in the Philippines. They get a break in Tel Aviv but not in the way they imagined it to be.

To say that Care Divas is simply a play about gay people is outright discriminating. Yes, I am sure our gay performers had a blast doing these roles but more than this --- they gave a different twist to the plight of overseas Filipino workers. "Hay, naku! naku! Harang talaga!" As Vince's songs relay --- human spirit triumphs over any obstacle.

Watch Care Diva and marvel at the triumphant spirit of Philippine theater. It is after all not just your ordinary gay play.

Rainbows

I had been planning to write a post-script to Ondoy, a year hence.

But I got buried, at work, under waves of photos of children being vaccinated against measles and the like. Ondoy seemed to have been flushed away from recent memory. But when Juan entered the Philippine's area of responsibility, and references to the Ondoy terror filled the morning news --- I could not help but remember what Ondoy was like.

Utter devastation.

But, indeed, there are rainbows after storms. Life remained a bit stormy a few months after Ondoy. But gray clouds had melted since then.

So allow me to send you this wish. May you have many rainbows after this storm.

Dinosaur dreams

I dreamt of dinosaurs the other night.

I woke up just before the T-rex devoured my left arm. I was scared like s__t. But I dozed off back to Jurassic Park, this time with all my limbs intact, having escaped miraculously from the T-rex.

The dream went on, with pteradactyls swooping above, as Aires, Heaven and I tried to stay alive, searching for a mysterious hide-out where we would be safe from giant reptiles.

We managed to reach the secret haven with other survivors. And then, it was time to really wake up.

Dream Moods Dictionary says that dinosaurs symbolize either an outdated attitude or old issues that keep coming back to haunt me, or the fear of being useless and no longer needed.

Old attitudes. Old issues. Uselessness. I can set all these aside. Because in my dream, I survived. I reached the secret haven.

It's just comforting to know that I would overcome whatever debacle this dinosaur is. Raargghhhh!!!

Another 48 hours

Weekends are precious. Two precious days with Heaven.

Ate Dada gets her time off. Tatay Nilo and Nanay Aires take turns and catch up.

Tatay Nilo gets to wake up at 5 am to have a very early breakfast with Heaven. Then off to Heaven's daily grind:

• "Sulat tayo." (Draw or doodle stuff on paper or blackboard.)


• "Basketball. Shoot!" or "Bowling. Strike!" or "Billiards. Tsuk!" (Play any ballgame he fancies.)


• "Tok. Tok. Drum." (Drop colored balls into colored holds of his colorful drum set.)


• "Ay hulog! Hulog!" (Build a tower out of blocks and watch it fall down.)


• "Elmo..." or "Coco the Cow." (Read any of his books.)


• "Nanay, dede!" (Of course, when it is time to be breastfed.)

Nanay Aires spirits off to bed for Heaven's morning nap. This is a struggle between Nanay and Heaven. It takes an hour before Heaven goes to lala-land, and only after -- "Nay, usap tayo." About his most recent escapade like ---

• "Wawa. Heaven. Sugat. Doctor." (His last vaccine shot.)


• "Wawa. Lola. Sugat. Doctor." (Seeing Lola after her dialysis treatment.)


• "Ate. Galit. Palo. Heaven. Ouch." (Some nasty girl who hit him with a ball at Gymboree.)


• "Monkey bar. Stretch. Weeee!" (How he conquered the dreaded monkey bar at Gymboree.)


• "Ara. Uwi. Iyak." (An older girl in the neighborhood admonished to go back home.)


• "Kuya. Galing. Dribble. Shoot." (An older boy in the neighborhood playing hoops at the barangay gymnasium.)


• "Ate. Galing. Ipis. Boo. Patay." (Ate Dada's triumph over a poor cockroach.)

Saturday afternoons are either playtime at Gymboree, chowtime at Momo's, partytime at Jollibee, or TV time with Ernie and Bert and Elmo and the Sesame Street gang. (Yes! We had permission from Heaven's pedia to introduce him to televised stories but still with parental guidance.)

It's not all rosy though. Tantrums happen here and there. And the "Is-this-my-son?" comes sputtering out. When he insists to go to the bedroom to wreak havoc. When mealtime is not yet his mealtime. When Nanay or Tatay hies off somewhere else and leaves him behind. When sleepyhead refuses to sleep.

Sunday, of course, is Alleluia time. You should hear Heaven's version of American Idol's favorite, Hallelujah. Listen to his whole repertoire:

• Row, row your boat....


• Twinkle, twinkle... diamond in the sky...


• Rain, rain go away, little Heaven wants to play...


• Bahay kubo, kahit munti...


• Sa Jollibee, bida ang saya....


• Baby-Baby-Baby-Ooooh!

Add to these his orchestra instruments: piano, xylophone, guitar, drum, tamborine...

Sunday is pretty much like Saturday. Throw in a dose of Q&A.

• What is your name? HEAVEN CZAR A. YACAT. (Stress on letter T.)


• How old are you? TWO. (Finally stopped saying 'One'.)


• What's your favorite color? BLUE. (And touches the color RED. No worries. He'll get that right soon.)


• What's the name of Tatay? NILO. (With a smile.)


• What's the name of Nanay? AIRES. (With a giggle.)


• Where will you go to school? ATENEO. (With conviction. Talk about toddler indoctrination.)

Weekends are indeed precious. And our Mondays are becoming difficult, really difficult.
"Sama. Heaven. Sama. Iwan. No way. Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!!!!" Another 48 hours have gone by.