the perils of

I am in the process of applying for a plantilla position somewhere, and one of the requirements is to write an "autobiography" about one's life. I figured, such an unusual requirement deserves an equally unusual style of writing.  So here I recycled an old article I wrote for Filipina Pen and Ink back in 2015, describing the daily grind of a med student. I've updated it to reflect my recent experiences having finished med school already.  Hope you enjoy reading. * * *  It’s 5 AM and I am jolted awake by the crowing of several roosters outside my window. For a few blissful seconds, I’m disoriented, and I don’t know who I am. In the dim morning light, I make out the outline of the grotesque mascot from an anti-smoking poster. His cataractous eyes are reflected in the faint glint from a steel equipment cabinet shining with green alcohol bottles. The black form in the corner of the room sharpens into a writing desk cluttered by folders and records. The hardness of the mat

This is just a bunch of updates that I feel I need to mention, because too much time has passed since the last one, and it's getting awkward. So, I wrapped up my Doctors to the Barrios stint last January 2023 and started a new job at the Health Promotion Bureau of the Department of Health in April. In between jobs there was a lot of bumming, unemployment anxiety, family events, and dog walking. Those three months went by so quickly. My current work at the DOH is my first ever office job, and first ever entry into the realm of high-level policy. My first thought when I started: everyone sounds SO. DAMN. SMART. and I feel like I know nothing . Intelligence is quite evenly distributed across the Health Promotion Bureau team members - hell, even our  admin assistant  has a masters degree! When I was in the barrios, I felt like brainpower was more concentrated in some people more than others (if you know, you know).  And when I was in the barrios, people would make such a huge fuss over

I relish blissfully slow Sunday mornings.  I'm in a nearly-empty cafe along Samping Avenue in Butuan City. The only other patron is this middle-aged guy in a baseball cap, sitting by himself at the communal table, sipping on a hot mug of peppermint tea. As usual, I came here alone, with no plans other than writing a blog post and cooling off with an icy coffee. Since it's just the two of us in this wide cafe, sitting far apart, I feel safer taking off my mask and exposing my face. My usual orangey eyeshadow and light peach blush have melted from the intense heat of the commute, and big fat beads of sweat cling to my forehead, nose, and cheeks. I hurriedly dab at my face before anyone notices my disgustingness. But the other dude is focused on his laptop and doesn't seem to care. I'm always so conscious about my own sweatiness. A college classmate once told me that I was the sweatiest girl he'd ever met in his life. Um, thanks. That was certainly a good comment to he

Just got back the from a trip to Manila with my coworkers in local government. In all my years as a working professional, this was the first work-related out-of-town thing I'd been invited to. So I was pretty nervous. But the days came and went really quickly. And I'm happy that I got to know my fellow LGU people better. And I got some sage advice from one of the older Sangguniang Bayan members during a brief, random heart-to-heart moment while standing in line for ice cream.  I told him about the pickle I've been in with Rap, where we don't know where to go after our Doctors to the Barrios contract ends in December. I've been pushing for Nasipit, while he has been pushing for South Cotabato.  SB said we have to pick a place where we'll both be happy. If I force him to go to Nasipit, where he has no roots, no friends, and no family, this could cause tensions to build in the relationship and possibly drive a wedge between us.  I could say the same for South Cotab

These days, I've been so restless.  I woke up one night at 2 AM to two shadowy figures shining a flashlight into my apartment window. I was frozen, confused, disoriented, unsure whether I was still dreaming. As my brain powered on, I realized the shadows were indeed descending the back wall of my apartment, coming towards me, and that this was, in fact, real life.  I didn't know what to do. Ignore them? Call the cops? Make a sound? Turn on the lights? Bar the doors? What if they have a gun and decide to kill me? I should warn the other people in the apartment.  My body felt like a rock. After what felt like hours of being frozen, I managed to command myself to unfreeze, hide under the blanket, and reach for my phone.  Is anyone awake? My fingers felt heavy as lead as I pulled up the apartment group chat.  Two strangers on the back wall of my apartment. Lock your doors. Be alert  Peeping out from other the blanket, the intruders had now passed my apartment and I could see them n

It's been roughly one month into my stay here in my new area, and so far, things are going well (*knocks on wood*). My uncle who lives in town helped me set up these cork boards in my office, and now I have a nice cork canvas to get creative with. I've also spent at least one day a week going around the different barangays, joining in on the house-to-house vaccinations. It hasn't been easy.  My previous job in Butuan mainly involved me staying put in a vaccination center. The people I dealt with were all willing to be vaccinated, even if in the tiniest degree, so it was not as much of an uphill battle. But now that I'm working on the ground, I am more exposed to the proportion of people who don't want to get vaccinated. And it upsets me. It hurts even more to think that we go through such lengths to bring vaccines closer to people - which can sometimes mean riding precariously balanced motorcycles on dangerous dirt paths deep into the mountains.  What do we get in r