Hello, monsoon.

As of this writing. Image from NOAA. 

As we are a tropical country, we only have two seasons in a year: the wet and dry season.

The thing is, whichever season we are in, we always have it in extremes. When it’s summer, the average temperature can go as high as 40°C (104°F) and when it’s the rainy season, expect to have heavy raining and flooding.

It had been raining for days now and that means commuting to and from work can be quite a pain.

Make no mistake, torrential raining affects all demographics. If you own a car (which you may subject to extensive damage due to floodwaters), you’d likely find yourself trapped in heavy traffic. If you’re like most of us who don’t enjoy the comfort of own transportation, then it’s even harder.

There’s no guaranteed way around it for regular commuters like me. Most public transport becomes unreliable as soon as it rains. You can either walk or try booking Grab but expect a ridiculous surge in fares (that is if you’re lucky enough to even get a driver to accept your booking). If the high fare is not an option, then there’s no choice but to toughen yourself up, leave your arte and poise somewhere if you want to get to where you needed to be.

I can rival any NBA player when it comes to “boxing out” just to catch a ride home. I can also be like any tightrope walker balancing myself while walking on the raised curb of an island when roads are flooded. In a few instances, I’d be hanging on to jeepney rails because there are no more vacant seats inside. I tell you, nothing else can channel my inner Lara Croft than commuting on a rainy day in the Metro.

Oh, did I tell you that chivalry is absolutely dead at times like this? If you don’t assert yourself well enough, guys can shove, knock or elbow you. That’s when my trusty umbrella comes in handy and my taller-than-average-Filipina height an advantage.

I can probably make a compilation of my many rainy day (mis)adventures. There had been rare times it pushed me to my breaking point (I blame my hormones) but mostly, I choose to laugh it off and charge it to experience. It pays to be “madiskarte” (street-smart) and well-aware and adapted in difficult situations. I guess it’s just one of the many things a single girl like me can acquire in time, knowing there’s no one to rescue her when things go awful.

One thing’s for sure—if this ever turns to be a plot of a Roland Emmerich movie, I think I can survive it.

Over the years of working in a flood-prone business district of Makati City, I got so used to flooding that it’s almost like I developed a skill to adapt to it. Why not? — an hour of heavy rains can easily transform Buendia Avenue and surrounding areas of Washington, Pasong Tamo and Dela Rosa streets to a body of water that would leave people and motorists wet, stranded and utterly frustrated.

It’s good they came up with elevated walkways (such as the Dela Rosa walkway) as this can serve thousands of pedestrians in a day by protecting them from the sun but more importantly, from rain and flood.

When there are heavy rains and I had to go home from a day in the office, I use the Dela Rosa walkway and walk towards MRT Ayala Station where there won’t be flooding and where I can get a ride home via the Park Square terminal. Waiting in long lines for a ride is one thing, getting stranded inside the jeepney due to traffic is another story. But at least I didn’t have to walk through ankle-deep water which I’d probably do if I pass by my regular route towards Washington St.

The thing about the monsoon season in the Philippines is that it’s just started. In a country that averages 20 typhoons in a year, we aren’t even in the middle of it. Remember that the strongest typhoons in our country’s history happened in the last few months of the year (Ondoy happened in September 2009 and Yolanda in November 2013), so while we all hope that our typhoons this year is not as strong as the ones I’ve mentioned, we are still bracing ourselves for the worst.

Expect now to see more of me entering our very posh office building in tsinelas (and just like those cult B actresses in the '70s—“wet-look”), since the suspension of work due to inclement weather is not the usual practice in the industry I am in. Business continuity is critical so we are expected to come to work and conduct a ‘business as usual’ mindset even when it’s already rainmageddon outside.

My best role so far

If I would be candid and downright honest about it, I don’t think I’d ever get to procreate. I mean, my OB-Gyne (Don't correct me—that’s how we call it before) never said it’s impossible even with just one ovary (I had a laparotomy in 2018), but I know it’s improbable because I don’t know a guy I’m remotely attracted to at the moment enough to get jiggy with. Unless of course, Chris Evans knocks at my door and we — *clears throat* 

I have made peace with this. I may regret it someday, but as of now, I have accepted my fate. I realized, God has His plans for everybody. It just so happens that His grand plan for me didn’t include me having little ones coming out of my sexy (ulk!) body.

I’m lucky because my parents seem to have also accepted it a long time ago. They never—not even once—pressured me (or any of us, really) to go and “propagate”. There was even a time when we thought our folks would die without having any apo, as both I and my older brother never marry.

Albeit without the badgering of my parents, there will always be the nosy people who can’t stop themselves from sticking their noses in other’s business. They’re the ones that would go: “Bigyan mo na ng apo ang mga magulang mo!” (Give your parents grandchildren!), to which I answer it then with a pasted-on smile that actually looked more like someone’s face when constipated. To tell you the truth I have wrung a lot of these people’s necks in my head.

When I was a lot younger, some people predicted that I’d have kids at a young age just because they always see me then in the company of guy friends.

“Maagang mabubuntis 'yan!” (She'd get pregnant at an early age!)

Do they seriously think I was sleeping with all those guys? Que horror. Good thing I have never given anyone the dirty finger, ever, but yeah—I would want to flip-off every one who ever thought and said that. 

*** 

It’s a good thing my younger brother stepped up to the task and gave my parents two beautiful grandchildren. It was almost into the homestretch since he’s in his mid-thirties when he had his firstborn and my parents were already approaching their seventies. Even so, it definitely made our lives so much better and worthwhile. For one, I became an aunt. And as far as good aunts go, I am the best.

Before having my nephews, I absolutely know nothing about childcare. I never had any training or practice growing up taking care of babies or children as my younger cousins who live in the same house are just about four to six years younger than me. Perhaps I was not trusted by the adults because I was a child myself.

Up until I had my first nephew, I was totally clueless that I don’t even know how to properly carry a baby. Ask my kumares how I refuse to carry my own goddaughter during her baptism out of fear that I might drop her.

But I have always been told that some mammalian females will have maternal responses and instincts whether she bore the child or not. That I shouldn’t worry about mucking things up because if I have it, I will just know. I never believed it then, but I do now.

When I had my first nephew, Gavin, it was love at first sight. That is, even if he was a small baby with jaundice who spent his first days at NICU. It broke my heart the first time I saw him crying with an IV drip chamber taped in his frail arms. At that moment, I was willing to switch places with him so he would be spared from the pain. He may be just a couple of days old, but I know right then and there that I will love that little baby forever.

This goes the same when my younger nephew, Liam, came three years later.

And just like what people have said about maternal instinct (myth or not), mine came out naturally. I was able to take care of my nephews, almost primal and instinctual. I never thought for a second that I’d get to contribute in the child-rearing considering my lack of experience around kids. I didn’t even know I possess any capability.

Even with a full-time job, I always make it a point to look after my nephews as much as I could. I make sure I spend a lot of time with them. While I didn’t trump on my sister-in-law’s divine role as their mother, I can definitely say that I am as caring, nurturing and loving as a parent.

More than anything, I just wanted to be the aunt I wish I had when I was a little.

*** 

I always say this, those two little boys got me wrapped around their teeny fingers.

Gone are the days when coming from the mall would mean I have shopping bags full of stuff for myself because right now, I spend more time in the kids and toy section than in the women’s section. It isn’t even hard to spend for them and set aside my own needs. Like how I can wear old clothes as long as my nephews will have new ones.

I had it tough as a child so I try as much not to let them experience the same. I not only spoil them with the material things that are reasonable and that I can afford, but I also let them experience a lot of things and have fun. We go to playgrounds, arcades, museums, parks, etc. I let them join activities I never even had when I was a kid like Halloween Trick or Treatin’ or Easter Egg hunts.

I haven’t been on a real date in a while now, because my weekends are spent with the two of them on tow. And it’s funny when a friend pointed out that at least these little guys will never break my heart and will always adore me. Good point.

I take their pictures as I wanted to have as many memories of them. Someday, I know they will thank me for it.

I had changed from a woman wearing stilettos and fashionable clothes holding a tiny handbag, to someone with hair up in a messy bun, in running shoes, carrying a big bag with diapers, feeding bottles and baby wipes inside.

I flood my Facebook and Instagram with my nephews’ pictures because seeing them makes me happy. I tell people anecdotes and funny stories about them.

I always tell the boys, in the simplest way I could, that the blood running through their veins is also my blood because their papa is my brother. I wanted them to realize as they get older that even if they didn’t come from me, that I love them more than “blood-running-through-veins” monologue can ever explain.

For most people, I am the best tita because I am known to spoil the kids. They always say the boys are lucky to have me as their aunt, not only because I have no children of my own (therefore I can shower all my love to them), but also because they know of my capacity to love.

What they didn’t know is that I can also be, to a small degree, fearsome when it comes to disciplining them. Both my nephews are scared of me when I get angry because they know they’ll gonna get it.  Some misbehaviors are just too much for me to tolerate and it surprised me that I turned out to be like my mom after all. I do scold them and hit them sometimes, only because I want them to grow up to be good people.

The good thing is that even if I can be the formidable “sungit” tita, they remain close and sweet to me. Always Tita Vayie this, Tita Vayie that. The younger one is particularly clingy.

So, sure, I may never be a mother. And some people might mock me contemptuously and say that I am incomplete as a woman, but because of these two boys, my life had been given meaning and purpose. God may not have planned it that I bring life to this world, but He made sure that I will be part of sustaining life and love to two boys.

If my nephews grow up to be good men who acknowledge what I did for them that in return, love me back until such time I’m old and gray, then I will die contented and complete.

Pathetic Rush

A simple motorcycle ride last week made me realize how I sorely lack thrill in my life these days.

Last Friday, I agreed to meet up with an online seller at a mall near where she works to pick up my order. I usually pay extra for shipping, but since it’s a high-value item, I thought I might as well do a meet-up just to be on the safe side.

I will be coming from work and I expected that going to SM Manila will be hard because of the Friday rush-hour traffic. The rate for a Grab Car booking that afternoon was a hold-up (more than 400 pesos! WTF, Grab?) and I’m too lazy to take a jeepney ride, that would probably get stuck in traffic anyway, just to get to the nearest LRT station.

With all things considered, I decided the last minute to take the ride-hailing motorcycle service, Angkas, as suggested by an officemate.

I’ve always been scared of riding motorcycles because of the kamote accidents I see on the news almost every day. But I had no choice that afternoon but to download the app and book a ride to get to SM Manila the easiest way possible.

While I have tried riding the habal-habal (private motorcycle owners picking up passengers for a charge) a number of times, especially during transport strike or special holidays when most roads are closed, this will be my first time with Angkas. I heard it’s reliable that it has become the default mode of transportation for someone who needs to get to his or her destination fast.

The rider arrived at our pick-up point within 10 minutes, ready with a helmet (that doesn’t smell funky like the ones at habal-habal) and a face mask for me. While I know Angkas is relatively safer than their motorcycle-hailing counterpart, I reminded him to be extra careful as I am one nervous wreck. The rider might already be so used to such requests that he assured me that there’s nothing to worry about as he drives safely.

I was particularly edgy during the first few minutes especially when the rider, however slow, would squeeze between two occupied lanes. I’m aware that lane-splitting is illegal, but I think with the terrible state of traffic congestion in Metro Manila, it was necessary. Good thing my rider is quite skilled at it.

Even so, it is not without giving me a series of little heart attacks when we’d pass through vehicles or be dangerously close to bigger SUVs, buses or trucks. Weaving through traffic especially in our roads can be a terrifying adventure in itself, with all the potholes, puddles and other motorists with zero discipline.

Being the morbid overthinker, I have already pictured about six motorcycle accident scenarios in my head halfway through the ride that it must’ve pumped just the right amount of adrenaline. After a while, I felt a rush of thrill. It got kinda exciting whenever we’d accelerate a bit and switch lanes and crawl in small spaces and pass by sidewalks. The late afternoon sun was still warm to the skin but even that felt so good.

Then, something dawned on me: I realized how I haven’t felt a similar rush in a long time.

I know you might ask, what rush? It was just a motorcycle ride—not even from someone I personally know—but that’s just it! I’ve gotten so hilariously boring and safe to be pumped up by something so little as a not-even-so-daring motorcycle ride. I—who back in the day would dare race against speeding cars and jeepneys along major roads and highways in just my BMX bike now finds thrill in an Angkas ride with a 60 kph speed limit.

Pathetic, I know. What has become of me?