On Leadership

“Leaders are born,  not made.”

 

It all happened when one of the senior forward crew, stirred a conversation with me. It was one of those jiffy talks in the coach but this time, it unusually had depth. I did not hang-out with this girl or anything, we barely even talked in the flight but fate made its way for us to have a meaningful discussion and I hope that I made an imprint on her, somehow.

She mentioned that one of her friends was going to be a CS (Cabin Senior) and I redirected the ball to her by asking if she received the promotion, since she was senior herself. Like any other crew, she was aghast of even an inkling of it. She told me how incompetent she would be for the position. Being a CS myself, I pacified her and rectified the maligned perceptions about it. She was indeed disbelieving of leadership itself and that’s when she stated the well known saying “leaders are born, not made.” I then, begged to disagree.

I believe that all of the human race are competent leaders. It just takes full-hearted willingness and spunk. Yes, some people may have more of this and that; but if you have the right attributes for the job; then you are in a good start. BELIEVING is the first step.

If we let fear block our path, we would never move forward. It takes LIVING for us to know the real score in the end.

She looked at me with dreamy eyes as I said my last piece of advice and thanked me in the end. I smiled in return and bid her farewell as we have reached the technical building.

I do not know how our small talk impacted her, neither am I sure if she would remember; but one thing is for sure, a leader was brewing within.

Just Sayin…

Some people are indeed knowledgeable but they lack what I think is more important, WISDOM… No matter how intelligent you are but if you lack the maturity in terms of life’s teachings; your high IQ, is useless. You might as well consider yourself DUMB.

Short Hair

I don’t know what the fuzz is all about… 8 out of 10 peeps are not so happy of my new do. Worst, 1 out of 2 of the favorable percentage includes me in it!!!

For the most part of it, the guys are not happy. My dad, as I went out of the salon was defiant. He almost fainted as he saw me, reiterating again and again, “too short, too short” while prodding his forehead in despondence as if he lost a loved one in the form of my mane.

To tell you quite frankly, if I weren’t flying in QA where we have tons of restrictions in haircuts and what not, I would even consider going extreme. I might sport a mohawk or a pixie, though yes, I know it won’t be suitable for my squarish face. At this point, I don’t really care. So what? Just because some famous hullabaloo said so, I would torment myself in seclusion?

Growing-up, I’ve been taunted by my insecurities, mired by what others might think about me. But now as I have gained more and more wisdom, I realize that over thinking things would just stunt you. Instead of pathetically wishing and hoping that you were someone else, why not just let yourself be?

I believe that beauty, or any order for that matter, is normative. Beauty has become so restricted that society evolved into a sickening level of closed-mindedness. Just because she’s fat, she can’t wear a bikini? Just because she has flabby arms, she can’t wear a sleeveless? If you’re one of those people who care too much about these things, then just close your eyes and mind your own biz. BEAUTY is in the eye of the beholder. Girls, please, do not stagnate just because somebody conceived that you are better the topsy-turvy way. As long as nobody gets hurt, move ahead and liberate yourself.

We are all beautiful in our own way. We just need to grip onto conviction and  bring it!

Ashley’s New Bicycle:)

We were supposed to wait for a week or so for the new bike as our chosen model was out of stock. We explained the whole situation to Ashi and she consented with a sweet little nod. At her tender age, she seemed to understand but the disappointment was so palpable that I could almost touch it. She suddenly munched on her crunchy snaps, one on both hands as if to vent out the frustration. Along with that scene, she suddenly had the urge to ride one of those rental motor bikes. We allowed her to, and she went round and round where she would occassionally glance at me carrying a face strewn with dispair (or maybe I imagined it all). I felt sad and decided to just buy the display. What the heck, if it would make my niece happy; why not!

We ran our fastest for the shops were soon to close and we made it just in time. The gloom on Ashi’s face disappeared for all we could see was a happy little child excited to try out her new bike:D

I know I may not have been practical in the sense that I should have waited for the new stocks to come but as Malcom Gladwell said in Blink, sometimes you got to go with snap judgements as such, or in layman’s terms, your gut-feel:)

It may not seem the right decision at that time but moments like this are indeed priceless:)

Remembering Ate’s

I relive the day when I was alone in the Singapore, walking here and there at Orchard Road. It was my first time to go around all by myself and I was clueless. I went by a shopping mall, which they call Lucky Plaza. The name of the place made so much sense for I was indeed, in imminent fortune.

There I was preambling within the gush of people with me, when I heard a languange spoken that seemed so musical in my ears at that time. I hastily gazed towards their direction and asked haphazardly, “ay, madame nagulat ako, Filipino po pala kayo (madame, I am surprised that you’re Filipino).” They replied with smiling faces and from then, Filipino fellowship took place.

They showed me around the Lucky Plaza, and I was surprised to see the amount of Filipinos inside it, comingling with each other as if we were in the Philippines itself. It was the exclusive lair of Filipinos all-around Singapore, and it definitely felt like home.

The group of ladies that I met went on with their separate regimens while ate Jen was left behind to accompany me. I was so touched that they even considered my well-being, a random person they just met along the street.

We went to a Filipino eatery located on the top floor. We ate our well-known pancit canton and halo-halo. It was a delightful experience to be in a different country and yet an invisible line still linked us to where we longed to be. Just seeing the strong companionship around us, made us closer and closer.

Ate Jen and I started talking as we ate our meal. She shared that she has been working there for 3 years as a domestic helper. Her siblings were still studying and she knew that they needed her support. I was even more astounded when she mentioned that she had a dregree in Education but due to the circumstances in the Philippines, she opted to leave the country; even if it meant that she would sacrifice her diploma for some time. Getting to know this lady with twinkling eyes as she spoke, made me admire her in the highest scale. Her devotion for her family, is a true testament of such greater purpose– true love. A love so strong that she would painstakingly accept anything and everything just for the sake of love itself.

All of a sudden, ate Jen was put on a pedestal. She inspired me in a huge way but at the same time, I was enraged. I got mad towards our corrupt system. For sure, there are more ate Jen’s in the world out there, suffering the insufferable just to feed their families. It was truly unfair and I hated it. How could they stomach taking what’s supposed to be a good life for our countrymen?

From then on, we had a connection and it was just amazing. One thing that I love about OFW’s all over the world, once they see another fellow Filipino, at a larger scope, the automatic response is a natural bond, a natural brotherhood.

We went around the malls closeby. We did a relatively successful amount of window-shopping and later on, she had to go and bid me farewell.  I thanked her for the nth time and she humbly replied a meek “wala yun (it’s nothing)”.

As I watched her walk further and further, I could not help but draw a curve on my face for that very moment marked a special beginning. A beginning where I would never look at Domestic Helpers the same way again (yes, I think the uppercase is applicable for they do deserve the respect like any other). A beginning where I would be prouder to be a Filipino OFW.

And a beginning that I would forever treasure that once upon in my life, I have befriended someone like her.

Dandelions and Such…

Poyan in recoil:

Once upon a time, I thought that wishes were sent by stray florets of a dandelion flower. I remember how my playmates and I would run for the chase of the stray “wish” as if our very lives depended on it. If I were lucky enough to catch it, I would close my eyes and intently summon the goddess in-charge to make all my dreams come true.

Being the little-Miss-Smarty-Pants that I was, I knew that I needed more than one floret to accomplish my innermost musings. Confidently, I knew that I have figured it all out– if i took a whole bunch of flowers, that would mean, wishes granted for the whole year. And if things run smoothly, I had a grand plan in mind and that was to farm a sea of dandelions right at our backyard.

And so, I took a plastic bag one day to pick all the dandelions I could get on a vacant lot with innumerable creeping weeds. I took all the clusters in sight for I was sure, kids around the area might have same intent. It was heaven and I felt like I hit the jackpot. At that very moment, I just knew, my future was about to make a huge turn. Thanks to my satchel of gold, I would be able to live my life at ease.

But then later that week, I came rummaging in my room for my supply of dandelions. It became a routine for me to blow a couple of wishes into the air every afternoon, with hopes of its favorable outcome. I’ve searched all over the my room, almost putting all things in topsy-turvy but nothing, not even one floret.

Incidentally, my mom discovered my secret stash of cottony ammunition and threw the bag in the bin. I got my beating that day and was forbidden to leave my bedroom.

I wept all night thinking that my “grand plan” was shattered into pieces. I imagined the goddess impugning me for throwing her precious gems into waste. I cried till my eyes were red and tired, till I finally fell asleep and the next day–

I walked by our porch, lo and behold, a “wish” came passing by. I caught it haphazardly and clasped my hands in reflection. Then and there, I made my last wish.

After that, whenever I would see a floret, I just smile at the memory of my crazy antics as a child and a realization stirs within me… For it is true that life is a wonderful masterpiece of fallacies and such.

Merry Christmas!!!

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I know Christmas in Bangkok would’ve been a riot. But instead, being the couch potato that I am, I opted …

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Old Photographs 2

Once upon a time, my WD external drive bogged down on me. Then and there, a flash-back of my once insistent plans of backing-up all my files came rushing. But sadly, indolence had the best of me and now all I could do is anticipate for the day that some genius would create a cheaper remedy for my ordeal.

Chances of retrieving my precious files were very slim (and expensive) and so, I tried to collect whatever I had available. Good thing I was able to get 80% of my pictures; not bad. Not only that, the loss  served as a trigger for me to organize my pictures. Who would have thought that loosing my files was all it took for me to back-up everything? Irony of ironies.

It was liberating similar to that of clearing all clutter. It was definitely a breath of fresh air to have all my photos in order. At the same time, it made me see how far I have come, a mini trip to memory lane indeed.

When scenarios such as this occur; all one could do is take the positive out of it. And say as a matter-in-factly, “I live through the memories in here (pointing on head and chest).” Yes, it may sound cheesy but really; what matters most are the experiences that you would forever cherish. One day, pictures would be lost and forgotten; but the memories would always remain.

Nevertheless, pictures are great remembrances. I would continue to lament for a day or two. But somehow, someway, I would pick-up the pieces after and take the oppurtunity to frame new treasures of tomorrow.

Old Photographs

I’ve been looking at my old photographs and it has made me realize how much I have grown these past few years.

One picture in particular caught my eye. My very first lay-over at Rome. I was garbed in a black shirt (150 php), striped peddle pants (ukay-ukay; 50 php), sandals (300 php) and a body bag (300). All in all, I was worth 800 php that day and I didn’t care. I was so simple.

Memories start to surge as I recap on how different my way of thinking was back then. I was not trendy though I could. A life of asceticism was my outcry where I was so convinced that genuine people would love me for who I was as a person and not for what I wore.

True enough, it was a great cause and I still believe in it but at the same time, I now see the importance of splurging every now and then (not ALWAYS).

It hugely depends on your choices in life. Whatever exuberances peace is a good sign. If you decide on living a total ascetic life and have no qualms about it, good for you. If you decide on living a total lavish life and have no qualms about it, good for you. As long as you are happy and have solitude from within, go for it.

On the other hand, too much of anything is bad for you. This has been proven a multitude of times by people who come and go though they seem to have it all. In my opinion, moderation is key. You have to draw a limit wherein you create an inner balance within.

I still consider myself simple yet I do like experiencing good things. For me, its part of living life in its fullest. Yes, for the most part of it, money is secondary but I am no hypocrite to say that I don’t enjoy its company. I enjoy earning money and the perks that follow with it. Because of it, I have bought good things not only for myself but for my family as well.

Now I do have a number of clothing and I do own a Louis Vuitton but that doesn’t make me a bad person.

The experience of material things is not BAD at all. But once, it becomes your totality, then you have to stop for a moment and breathe. Always retract on the basics, the simple things. And always acknowledge the reality that the best things in life are free.

A Stranger Who Cares

I have been coughing like a bazooka these past few weeks whereas, my condition has frustrated me in a way that whenever I am in flight I restrain myself to cough. With the aid of strepsils, I am deemed successful in camouflaging my malady. But once I reach home, I cough in boisterous gusto, oblivious of whoever might hear me.

One day, a haggard Poyan came back from a flight. I began my coughing spree from the elevator to the flat. I knew that my cacophonous blasting might have frightened any bystander, but I was on a roll.

I reached my flat pacified, when I heard the doorbell ring in the middle of 2 am. Very unlikely, really. I saw an anonymous face through the peephole and as I opened the door, I presented myself in a very irritated manner. The stranger then asked me “everything ok?” At first I was appalled, thinking “who are you to ask? I don’t even know you.” But when she mentioned “I heard you coughing. I was just wondering if everything is all right.” I started to laugh and my mood suddenly changed.

Very few good Samaritans exist nowadays that I have maligned her into an annoying neighbor. “Do you want me to make a cup of tea with honey for you?” I was so astounded. I did not know her and she did not know me, but she willingly offered her assistance. She amazed me really, and from that simple gesture, I will never forget her face nor her name. Thus, a stranger no more:)