I turned 25 last Friday. Yey! I barely noticed it because my entire being was occupied by my thesis defense, which happened to be on the same day. More on this in another entry.
25. Nice number. Not as scary as I imagined it to be, actually. Mark says it's a good thing I had my quarterlife crisis when I was 23. This "pre-quarterlife" crisis culminated in an anxiety attack on the roofdeck of a building on Ayala Ave. It was lunchtime and I was crying and shaking and laughing, not knowing the reason why. Other people probably thought Mark and I were breaking up, or that I was a lunatic. Hee. Intermittently I would succumb to "episodes", which meant shopping for outrageous stuff that have (thankfully) stayed in the shadows of my closet ever since. I've been to the the doctor because of severe headaches which I thought were migraines, only to be prescribed anti-anxiety pills.
I must confess, I was scared. In one of my grad school classes, we were asked to come up with a "life plan." I took it way seriously, of course. It was the hardest assignment I had to do. I had to put down on paper what had only been swimming in my head, provide targets and timelines, present an appropriate approach and process. Plan my life? I could hardly make my bed in the morning. How do you plan for the uncertainty of everyday, for the inconsistencies of human behavior, for the unpredictable nature of human life? Is it really unpredictable or is that just an excuse? What is our purpose anyway? Why do even endeavor to do what we do? What the hell is the point when we can die the very next minute?? Ah, such is the paradox of planning. Which makes you realize that the question of planning - urban, regional, development, all kinds - lies at the heart of those philosophical questions you dare not ask. It's a great big can of worms. I opened the can and I was horrified - and equally excited.
Anyway, by the time 2007 rolled by, I managed to put those questions behind me, and I was finally fine. :)
Speaking of 2007, it has been a pretty darn good year so far. Traveled to three continents, passed (nay, aced! Hahaha.) the Board, finished my MA (although it's not over until the dean affixes his precious signature on my book. yikes.), and began realizing my (and my friends') vision for the future of environmental planning in the Philippines (naks). I've been faced with and still face big and small problems that I shall happily solve. I continue to have the wonderful, supportive loved ones who all mean the world to me.
They say it's not wise to make lists of things you have or still have to accomplish, so I'll stop here. I'm happy. I guess that sums it up. There is so much more to do, but there really is nothing I could ask for from the Universe, except to continue giving me strength to push on. I know my faith will move me.
Happy birthday to me!
Saturday, October 20, 2007
Thursday, October 04, 2007
ebb and flow
24 September
I’ve never felt as professionally inadequate as I do now. And it’s not even my fault. I think.
Today we had the first of several de-briefings. I won't go into details so let's just say we totally fucked up. The CEO of the power company was there, the head of the environment and social division, and all the other bigwigs. By the middle of the presentation, you could actually taste the awkwardness. I sat there, tapping the laptop keyboard stoically, going back and forth the slides in a daze. Our team's presentor had apparenty switched the slides in his copy (which he was reading from his laptop) and did not inform us of the changes he made. And that was the least of our problems.
Our team is composed of people whose combined experience exceeds my grandmother's age. How could things go so wrong?
I don't know. Frankly, it doesn't even matter. The bottomline is that it was completely my fault. Because I am responsible for everything. Everything. Even the things that have nothing to do with me, but concern other people's personal flaws, personalities and idiosyncracies. Little whims like having their hair done in the middle of a busy day of report-writing (correct me if I'm wrong, but this is a totally alien concept for me; I'm a crammer, sure, but I don't prioritize pagtitina over a critical deadline.) Are they held accountable for their actions? Nooooooo. Of course not. Because I am.
Ay naku. Like my teammate said, tatanda ako rito.
25 September
Nakai Plateau, the soon-to-be reservoir of the dam, rests on the northeast side of Laos, near the border of Vietnam. It served as a convenient hideaway for Vietnamese soldiers in their war with the US in the 70s. Because of this, Laos, which had nothing to do with the war, is the most bombed country in history, host to more bombs that all the bombs used in World War II. This little known fact played in my mind as I walked around the resettlement area. Prior to construction of the new houses, the power company did an extensive ground survey for unexploded ordnance. Outside makeshift village offices hangs a poster showing a variety of bombs. The system goes: if a villager sees a suspicious-looking object on the ground, he/she checks the poster, fills out a form, deposits the form in a letterbox. A roving team checks the letterbox, and proceeds to retrieve the object.
I shuddered at the thought.
I had been touching the soil since I got here. It was powdery white – sand. Scattered around were stones that looked like those you find on beaches. Strange at first to find such soil so high above the ground – on a plateau, that is, until you realize that this spot has a past life: it was once part of the sea. The ebb and flow of tide over millions of years created this landscape, and now that the water has receded indefinitely, its remnants sit silently with rice fields and vegetable gardens. How wonderful this Earth is, that I get to stand on something that is the child of both land and water.
Then I remembered the bombs, and I quickly stood up.
Humans always seem to destroy the wonder of life.
28 September
Things are a bit better now. Crazy, but better. I feel like my purpose has been reinforced.
There are good things being done in this world. There are noble pursuits of goodness.
Yes, even those involving the World Bank.
I’ve never felt as professionally inadequate as I do now. And it’s not even my fault. I think.
Today we had the first of several de-briefings. I won't go into details so let's just say we totally fucked up. The CEO of the power company was there, the head of the environment and social division, and all the other bigwigs. By the middle of the presentation, you could actually taste the awkwardness. I sat there, tapping the laptop keyboard stoically, going back and forth the slides in a daze. Our team's presentor had apparenty switched the slides in his copy (which he was reading from his laptop) and did not inform us of the changes he made. And that was the least of our problems.
Our team is composed of people whose combined experience exceeds my grandmother's age. How could things go so wrong?
I don't know. Frankly, it doesn't even matter. The bottomline is that it was completely my fault. Because I am responsible for everything. Everything. Even the things that have nothing to do with me, but concern other people's personal flaws, personalities and idiosyncracies. Little whims like having their hair done in the middle of a busy day of report-writing (correct me if I'm wrong, but this is a totally alien concept for me; I'm a crammer, sure, but I don't prioritize pagtitina over a critical deadline.) Are they held accountable for their actions? Nooooooo. Of course not. Because I am.
Ay naku. Like my teammate said, tatanda ako rito.
25 September
Nakai Plateau, the soon-to-be reservoir of the dam, rests on the northeast side of Laos, near the border of Vietnam. It served as a convenient hideaway for Vietnamese soldiers in their war with the US in the 70s. Because of this, Laos, which had nothing to do with the war, is the most bombed country in history, host to more bombs that all the bombs used in World War II. This little known fact played in my mind as I walked around the resettlement area. Prior to construction of the new houses, the power company did an extensive ground survey for unexploded ordnance. Outside makeshift village offices hangs a poster showing a variety of bombs. The system goes: if a villager sees a suspicious-looking object on the ground, he/she checks the poster, fills out a form, deposits the form in a letterbox. A roving team checks the letterbox, and proceeds to retrieve the object.
I shuddered at the thought.
I had been touching the soil since I got here. It was powdery white – sand. Scattered around were stones that looked like those you find on beaches. Strange at first to find such soil so high above the ground – on a plateau, that is, until you realize that this spot has a past life: it was once part of the sea. The ebb and flow of tide over millions of years created this landscape, and now that the water has receded indefinitely, its remnants sit silently with rice fields and vegetable gardens. How wonderful this Earth is, that I get to stand on something that is the child of both land and water.
Then I remembered the bombs, and I quickly stood up.
Humans always seem to destroy the wonder of life.
28 September
Things are a bit better now. Crazy, but better. I feel like my purpose has been reinforced.
There are good things being done in this world. There are noble pursuits of goodness.
Yes, even those involving the World Bank.
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